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WOGCING KI??¥ CLYDE. ee

 

BY HATTIE.

The moon bung low in eastern sky
When I set forth my fate to try.
“Til go to pretty Kitty Clyde,

And ask if she will be my bride.”

The sweet girl stood beside the door,
Where honeysuckles clambered o’er;
She, in the moonlight, looked so sweet,
T knelt at ence at her dear feet.

“O, Kitty Clyde, sweet Kitty Clyde!
Say, wilt thou be my own dear bride?
Wilt share my lot through all your lite?
Wilt love me, Kitty—be my wife?”

oe

The sweet girl looked more sweetly stil},
The moon was climbing up the hitl;

I knew my suit wotld prosper now,
Por smiles were spreading to her brow.

She spoke! O, voice like summer wind!
It conld not apsiwer me less kind,

Her very accenis I repeat:

“Stand up, dear John, upon your fcet.

”

Yet still I knelt, I would not stand

Until she'd promised me her hand.

Her voice it now my soul enchants:

“Get up—you'N spoil your new white pants.”

Angrily I sprang upon my feet,
And thought to make a quick retreat;
The moon was shining o’er the hill,
And gaily sang the whippowil.
“Parewell! farewell, Kitty !’? I said,
Crushing my hat upon my head; +
Angry as Mars, I turned to go,
When Kitty’s yoice ia liquid flow,
But brought me fo her feef again,
Bound fast in love’s sweet, mystic chain,
“Why do you hasten, John, to go?
I did not to your suit say “Wo.

Joyful, I clasped her willing hand,

- But loosed it quick at her command:
“T did not scorn your suit, you know,
But then, I've got another beay !”
“Pil hate your faithless sex-through time,
TPiiseorn you all in prose and rhyme !”
“Tush, hush, dear John, you needn't go,
TElisack the other chap, you know.”
O, Kitty Clyde! sweet Kilty Clyde!
She jaid*her cheek my own beside,
I kissed her lips—she kissed again ;
Love swept our full hearts o’er like rain.
I asked her then to name the day,
She gently pushed me quite away.
“T think, dear John,” she quaintly said,
“That [ shall live and die a m aid.”
She could not anger me egain,
Her pretty ruse was all too plain;
And last night, when the world was still,
snd summer moon hung over the hill,
We stood before the pastor gray,
And Kitty gave her name away.
She’s mine to-night, my loving wife
Sweet Kitty Clyde is mifie for life!

—>-O—~<

WHO DID |
LADY VIOLET
MARRY?

OR, THE

Mystery of the Black Diamond.

By HELEN CORWIN FISHER,
AUTHOR OF “THE UNLOVED WIFE,” THE CURSE OF KY-
ERLEIGH,” “WOLF OF VIGNOBLE,” ETC.

- —_—_—_—_-— ; -
(“Lady Violet? was commenced in No. 27. Back numbers
ean be obtained from any News Agent in the United States}.

CHAPTER IV.

THE BLACK DIAMOND.

At last, Eleanor saw the strangely pallid face of the
young creature whose deceit she had compassed so ¢nn-
ningly. it was deathly pale and still, and a certain wild-
ness of expression made the great black eyes seem big-

ger and blacker taan ever. AAD
Unsmilingly Lady Violet held up her little white hand

\ from which, at Hleanor’s suggestion, she had removed,

before her departure for London, the diamonds that
usually glittered there. They had been strangely suc-
ceeded. f

Upon the marriage finger was a single, curious\y
wrought jet circlet, set with that rare stone—a black
diamond. Tt was that which the duped bridegroom had
placed there when he repeated after the priest, **Witn this
ring 1 do thee wed.” Oniinous seal of that solegin com-
pact about whicen the clouds of mystery were already
thickening to blackness. ‘

Eleanor Lyle barely repressed a shudder, as she said:

“It was a mistake, of course; and a very silly one.”’

“It seems to. me like an omen,” said Lagy Violet, in an
awed voice; ‘it reminds me of those lines we were trans-
lating out of the Monk’s Book. Don’t you remember bow
we laughed at them, Eleanor? They began, ‘Whose face
her bridegroom hath not seen, and we thought such a
strange tiling could never be, but ir 7s now.”

“What nonsense,’ exclaimed Miss Lyle; “if you mean
yourself, Conway has seen your face.”

But a strange thrill crossed her, as she remembered that
the man Lady Vivlet had really married had Indeed never
looked upon her face.

“Not as ny bridegroom,’ responded my lady; “it fills
the prophesy. ‘Whose face her bridegroom hath not
seen,’ it says, and the rest is worse. Do you remem-
ber it???

Miss Lyle shrugged her shoulders.

“] dian’t know you were superstitious, Violet.
remember the lines.
ties, though.??

“So I thought at the time; but listen,” and Lady Violet
repeated: ‘* ‘Whose face her bridegroom hati not seen.
Who hath not golden wedding ring.’ She held up her
finger with its black circlet.

“°Pwixt wifehood and her bridal day
Death lurketn all the treach’rous way.”

Eleanor shivered in spite of herself, while Lady Violet
Slowly remvved. the ominous ring from her finger, and
hung it upon that slender gold chain sne Wore at her
threat, the same which hud held ker sister’s miniature.

“[ wonder if Daisy’s picture went to make room for
this??? she said.

Hieanor Lyie rose and kissed her, hurriedly.

“Don’t be fanciful, my dear,’’ sue said; “lie down and
resi, try to sleep a little, your nerves are jaded, and so
are mine,’ and she quitted the room.

Eaglescliffe haa once been a monastery, and its first
lord had been brother of tue monk who was abbet.

When the beantiful abbey, with its rich lands, was taken
from the Church and given to the one brother, the other
refused to quif its walls with bis cosupanions, and it was

that the first brother connived at his remaining.
The Monk’s Book had been handed down from this abbot.
aud was said to chronicle withia its pages the future of
that family to whom the monastery had passed forever.
Some remarkably tulfiiled prophesies, it was said, haa
emanated from its sacred leaves, and tne book itself, writ-
ten On vellum, Cased in the richest velvet, and clasped
with gold, was one of tne most treasured of the Eagles-
cliifte nereditaments.

its oracular utterances were in Latin, for the most
part, and the fact that, one day laughingly testing its Sy-
pilline leaves, Lady Violet, with no knowledge of the
language in which it was written, should have selected
this particular passage to be translated for her, and that
it should now bear this superstitious seeming of applying
to her, waS enough to give two girls, with their nerves
already overtaxed, queer sensations.

They had come home in the gray of the morning, and
Eleanor Lyle having bidden Lady Violet take some rest,
sought her OWN apartments for fhe same purpose, but
slumber was far frem her eyelids.

Sne had succeeded. Alone and unaided, her single
wits had battled, cheated, outwitted the three of them;
but, in the hour of her assured triamph, she did not feel
triumphant.
seemed to haunt her still, her foreboding voice to ring
in her ears,

“Conway shall tell me who his masked companion was,
the first time we meet,’ she thought,

And then she smiled a little scornfally to herself, to
think how cleverly the trickster had let himself be
tricked.

“He will guess nothing,” she mused, “till he sees Grace
Elroy or Violet. ‘The first he’ll be likely to avoid as long
as he can conveniently. The second I will try my clever-
hess to keep him from meeting.’

The Earl of Eagtescliffe returned home the third day of
his absence, at evening. Eleanor and Lady Violet were
at dinner, and the earl, instead of joining them, sent a
servant to say that he would await them in the library as
800N as dinner was over.

Sudden terror almost deprived Lady Violet of her
senses.

“Can he have discovered all?” she thought, with a
half shudder,

Eleanor also showed aslight discomposure and agita-
tion, but neither spoke, the servants being in the room.

As they entered the library, each repressed an excla-
Mation atthe change those few days had made in Lord
Kaglescliffe. His hair and flowing beard had turned
white, and the gray pallor of his face, the broken expres-
sion of his countenance, was indescribable.

He gravely gave them both seats.

“I received the morning { went to London,” he said, “a
letter from my eldest daughter, (thus he called her,

I don't
They were a tungie of impossibili-

Lady Violet's great, somber, awed eyes.

pe—<
coe

>

 

 

 

44 etre

 

 

 

though sue was only his step-daughter, Lady Vioiet’s half-

sister,) Marguerite Dupont.’ {

He paused. j

Lady Violet, forgetting everything but that beloved sis- |
ter—Daisy she had always called her—rose from her |
chair, and approached him with outstretched hands, The;
earl glauced at her, straightening himself a little.

“Marguerite Dupont is dead,’ he said, with a ghastly
convulsion of his anguished face. '

“Dead ?? cried Lady Violet, in an utterly stricken voice, |
her hands falling heavily to her side. ‘And you never}
told me? You never let me see her once more? I who
loved her so? Oh! I loved her better than anybody |
did.*?

The earl drew her into his arms and bent his head.

Late that evening, Lady Violet came suddenly into}
EBleanor’s room, the horror which had come into ber eyes
af the announcement of her sister’s death, still darkening |
in them. ;

“The Monk's Prophecy has begun to fulfil itself,’ she}
said, in ah hysterical whisper, ‘‘whose death ao you}
think wiil ¢ x{—yours or mine, or Conuways—or :
papa’s? Whio knows ??

Belore Eleanor co
ment, she t
to follow her
“Pm nots
riper, ms

ewhi

    

    
 

speak, in the shock of the
itted the room. Eleaner started
e back With a pale
s,?? she Said’ to herse
Poow.9?

 

 
 
 
  

     

      
    
    
    
   
       
     
 
  
    
 
  
  
 
       
  

and ca
til

 

“but to

 

    

     
 

i tear.

se, Lord Eaglescliffe ask-

time a pre —namely,

attempt, or permit any al-
rview or comiutiuication

 

 

   

way.
prise, Lady Violet at once gave
3rvt she within herself, that noth-
ing could be mor e for her plans that this agree-
ment. ib wonid:s > per nO liftie, anxiety concernipg
these two meeting, and discovering how they had been
tricked.

Lady Violet detected her surprise.
Imarked, with singular gravity:

To Miss f

the premise.

 

 

 

But she merely re-

“T have kept my promise to Vane. Now,I mean to do
what Ican to earn papa’s forgiveness, which Iam not
sure I shail ever deserve, do as I may.”
_ Afterward, she asked Eleanor if sie woulda not write
and tell Mr. Conway lew matters stood, her promise.and
her resolve to keep that promise. Shé was sure he would
see that her first duty was to her father still.

*He would soon show you, how littiehe regarded any
duty but that dae himself, if you’ were Yeally his wife,”
thought Eleanor.

“Very well, I will write as you desire,” she said, to
Lady Violet, and stooping suddenly, kissed her.

Lady Violet drew back angrily: ‘I wish yen wouldn’t,
Eleanor, it looks as if you pitied me; and I don’t want to
be pitied.’

Miss Lyle wrote sometbing to Mr. Conway, but it did
not have the proposed effect of Keeping him away from
the Cliffe, but the contrary. He came down at once, to
see for himself about his standing witn the heiress and
prospective countess. He had indeed stayed away longer
now by some weeks than he had intended, and Eleanor
was beginning to wonder, ;

Naturally, he did not presume to present himself at Ea-
glescliffe openly, but he hung about the grounds, watch-
ing for Lady Violet or Eleanor, but not daring to accost
either when prying eyes were about. ;

Eleanor knew he was near. Several times she might
have gone to him when he showed himself to her ata
distance in the shrubberies, bubthongh herheart thrilled,
she affected obliviousness, and would not be lured to an
interview.

She was argus-eyed,'meanwhile, lest he should succeed
in communicating with Lady Violet, and intercepted sey-
eral notes, of which she said nothing to any one.

 

CHAPTER V.
THE GIPSY FIDDLER,

One fair morning in the late autumn, my lady came
statelily down the grand staircase, the snowy folds of her
dress brushing the statues as she passed, and the painted
light from the long range of stained windows falling
about her.

As she stood a moment on the terrace, her father joined
her. There was anew deference in the bearing of his
lordship toward his queenly little daughter—a change in
the gay, imperious girl.

“Had the sweet vivacity of youth forever departed ?”
the earl wondered. “Is it her sister’s death that has
changed her so, or had she already learned to love that
Villain so mach??? And he mused as he watched the pale,
statuesque face. “Any way, she isa brave, good girl to
promise me to see him no more without my consent.”

Little be knew what he was talking about.

“My dear,’? he said, anxiously, “Captain Evelyn is
coming to call upon us this morning, Shali you mind?’

“T shall be very happy to see him, papa, Iam sure,”
the young voice said, quite firmly, and with an attempt
at cheerfulness,

Tue earl looked relieved.

“ft don’t think he will tire you much; and he is the son
ofsuch an old friend. At present the heir of the nearest
estate to ours, too, you know,” he added, with slight
wistfuiness,

“Lady Violet lifted her clear, straight-forward eyes.

“I dare say I shall like him very well, papa. I hope
you won’t expect anything more.”

Lord Eaglescliffe averted his eyes. He understood her.

Lord Edward Evelyn was the possessor of the nearest
estate adjoining the Cliffe. Lord Evelyn of the Nest, he
was called, and this was his favorite seat, though not so
large as another in Devonshire. He had.recently married
a young wife, which assured somewhat Captain Eve-
lyn’s prospect of becoming lord of the Nest.

Fatner and daughter were lingering still on the terrace
when the expected visitor came sauntering slowly up the
avenue, a-foot, instead of on horseback.

He was tall, dark-bearded, tawny-complexioned, with
bright, restless, brown eyes, :

My lady watched him idly as he mounted the steps, and
properly bent her stately head when ke was duly pre-
sented by the eager earl. But at the first sound of his
voice her wondering eyes flashed like two suns upon his
face. She looked away again instantly. There was noth-
ing familiar in that face, singularly handsome as it was.

A curious smile just crossed tne bearded lips of the
young soldier as his bright eyes fell upon Lady Violet;
and the earl, observant of botn countenances, looked his
surprise. ;

“{ think I have seem Lady Violet before,’ explained
Captain Eveiyn.

Both the earl and his daughter looked up questioningly.

“IT was in the woods when my lady chastised the gipsy
fiddier; and Lshould have asked to shake hands with
ler on it, on the spot, if you had not rode away so
fast. Will you shake hands with me now, Lady Violet;
and accept my thanks and congratulations?”

Lord Haglesciiffe flushed uneasily, and looked disap-
proving. My lady bit her scarlet lip at the brusqueness
of her new acquaintance, but she laid a littie jeweled
hand in the brown soldierly palm frankly enough.

The episode of the gipsy was one of those outbreaks of
my lady’s wayward temper, which it was not pleasant to
her father to recall.

Riding together the morning before, father and daugh-
ter had come upon a gipsy fiddler, drilling his dancing
dogs, and one little grimy, half-starved boy, who was
turning somersaults and executing various wonderful
flings upon the turf. The fellow was partly drunk, and
belabouring dogs and boy anon, in a style that made
every pulse of Lady Violet’s impetuous heart bound.

Without waiting for her father, who had stopped to ex-

 

 

amine something on the road, the excited girl drew rein,

mo-;

SHE LIFTED HER JEWELED

a

THE NEW YORK WEEKLY.

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neces

 

and ordered the gipsy to leave off beating his troop. The
fellow only laughed in her face; and the boy, a yellow-
haired little lad, with big blue, hungry-looking eyes, stared
at her in solemu allright, stopping the performance mid-
way for that purpose, and getting a rousing kick from his
master in consequence.

That was too much for impulsive my lady. She lifted
het jeweled riding-whip, and struck the man one stinging
blow across the face. He turned, with the ery of an infu-
riated beast, and sprang at her bridle, his eyes glaring, his
lips afoam. ;

Lady Violet did not lose her se!f-possession for a mo-
ment. Neither did she strike the man again. But wheel-
ing her herse dexterously, she brought the boy on the

' other side, and stooped -from the saudle one little gaunt-

letted hand. The boy caught ab it, touched my lady’s
dainty uncevered boot with hisbare feet, and climbed
lithely up to a seat behind her. dirt, rags, and all, where
he perched, grinning at his infuriated master in the ela-
tich of bis novel po nm.

That wa
lescliffe
psy fell back at h

 

    
  
  

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sadly

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ged eyes of
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oy i a dive from his perch.

“Tt want the boy to wait on me,” said
fally, and pulling off a ring fue

Tie msn mced af the ring

 
 

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p did not glance at him a second time, as

out he did not offer to tou

| we swent a with a word totitle lad, who ran a liftle

Vv after her,stopped end lodked back, run on i

j stepped a second tinie, and then with both diz a

} his eyes, tore back to ‘his. gipsy \yrant and his brothers,
the dogs,

That wos the end of it. Nether coaxing nor hiring
could temptthe little blackampor to leave his master,
greatly to his young champion’s disgust, and secretly to
the earl’s immense relief.

“Diamond rings are not just the sort of largess to fling

 

 

  

RIDING WHIP

to
re

 

Mo
all
sho
lecti / : a

yy a . “that I should have
give sson if Lady Violet bad not.”

He net add that the scenp nad haunted him—that
the thought of my lady’s superb young face, transfiguréd
with generous rage, had scatcel¥ been out of his dreams
or his waking theughts ever since,

For obvions reasons, Lerd Eaglescliffe chose that the si-
lence which had so'long shrouded the fate of Marguerite
ron eg should continue impenetrable, now that she was

ead.

All went on outwardly, therefore, as though nothing
had happened.

At an early day, after the arrival of Lord Evelyn and
his bride at The Nest, father and daughter went in an
open barouche to call upon them.

Lady Violet was locking more like herself than she haa
for weeks. A faint coler tinged her delicate cheeks, and
she had taken exceeding care with her toilet. Her elas-
tic temperament had begun already to rally from the de-
pression of the past few weeks,-and something like the
old brilliancy shone in her vivid face and luminous eyes.

Captain. Evelyn escorted them back to the Cliffe on
horseback, and on the way, who should they encounter
but Vane Conway, who burst uponthem suddenly from
a clump of trees by the wayside.

The effect of this apparition upon all three was start-
ling in the last degree.

The dark, fascinating face, with ifs shining black beard,
was strange to none ofthem. Lady Violet grew whiteas
death; Captain Evelyn’s cheek flushed and his eye flashed;
the stern old earl looked straight before him with glitter-
ing eyes and leonine head erect.

Conway, himself most self-possessed of apy one, bent
to his saddle-bow, as the carriuge with its mounted es-
cort swept by.

Only Lady Violet faintly inclined her head to him, and
Captain Evelyn, catching the brief salutation, hastened
to say, with the slightest possible inflection of sarcasm:

“I beg your ladyship’s pardon, and yours, my lord. I
was not aware that Mr. Conway was honored with your
acquaintance.’?

“He is not,” responded the earl, with extreme hau-
teur.

“T presume you know he isa relative, and has the next
chance after myself of becoming Lord of tlie Nest,’ re-
marked the captain, carelessly.

“I was aware of it,” responded Lord Eaglescliffe, in a
manner that did not invite continnance of the theme.

Meanwhile, Lady Violet managed covertiy to remove
one of her delicate gloves, pass i, unobserved through an
aperture ina blind, and waving it slightiy, dropped it
upon the road. Vane Conway, watching the receding equi-
page with eyes of glittering wickedness, saw and gal-
loped presently to the spot.

He laughed gayly as he pressed “the Jittle perfumed
gauntlet to his lips, and then hid it carefully in his bo-
som.

“I’m ahead of you still, Captain Roy,” he muttered; “it
shall go hard, but that I stay so.”

As he mounted his horse and galloped away, he said to
himself, complacently: ;

“T have only to manage to see Lady Violet once, and
my business is done. it’s the only salvation tora fellow
whose exchequer has run so confoundediy low as mine,
and a royal salvation too. I don’t suppuse there’s an-
other such heiress in the three Kingdoms,”

“She has given no heed to my letter; he mused, “but
her agitation just now, and the’ little glove prove that I
am still monarch of that precious heart. 1 will write ner
once more, an appeal that would move a stone woman;
and I know she is not that.’

Eleanor Lyle was alone in he*own apartment when
Lear burst in upon her with this very redoubtable
epistle.

Miss Lyle guessed what had happened, and rose with a
pale face.

“I didn’t promise not to read his letters; Lonly promised
not to write to him,’’ Lady Violet said.

“He is very genérous; he claims nothing. He does not
even mention that which giveshim the right to claim
everything from me. He only entreats to see me once
more in language that it’ breaks my heart to read.”

Eleanor pressed her hand to hey heart to still its throb-
bing. Lady Violet was so young, so fair, it was only natu-
ral that he shonld love her.

“Well,’’ she said in a faint voice, and without looking
up, ‘‘you will of course immediately obtain your father’s
consent to see him???

“T shalldo nothing of the sort,” said Lady Violet, quick-
ly; ‘“‘you Know well enough, Eleanor, that I should not
dare ask such a thing.”

“You will then go without his consent?"

Lady Violet drew her slight form hanghtily erect. “You
only say that to vex me,’ she answered, passionately;
“you know that I would not break my word, if my heart
broke in keeping it.” Was Lady Violet's training an-
swerable for this sensitive regard for the truth which
contrasted so painfaliy with that act of wilifal disobedi-
ence a few weeks before? Y

Eleanor Lyle’s gray eyes glowed with secret relief at
Lady Violet’s decision.

‘Shall [see Mr. Conway for you, 7, ?? she asked,

    

in a voice of suppressed eagerness.
‘If you only would, Eleanor; and

 

rgive me that I

 

i
yet to the trick she had played bim, or he would have

\
1

 
   
 

; derstands you without my help.

NG

 

spoke so just now; you are too good tome. Everybody is
too good tome. 1 think Vm the worst girl that ever
lived; yes I do,” and the bright, dark eyes filled with pas-
sionate tears, us

“Heaven may look tenderly on the rest of us then,”
murmured Eleanor with averted face. ‘*What shall I say
to him for you?’? .

“IT have no heart to senc him any message, but of my
love; and he could not well doubt that now. You know
all that I would say if I could—l think you know better
than I do.??

CHAPTER VI.
GRACE ELROY.

Vane Conway was waiting at the lower end ofthe park,
where We saw him first. He knew that Lavy Violet had
received his letter: he fels as sure of her coming to meet
him as he did of being at the appointed spot himseif.
And now, here was Eleanor Lyvie instead.

Ss Lyle’s face was pale before. But an angry crim-
son rose in elther cheek, as Conway came scowlingly for-
ward, and said:

*Ti’s you, is it?

“You expected Lady Violet ???

‘**} did,” was the irritated response. ‘“‘What then ??

‘Nothing, only you cannot see her—nvow or at any time,

 

 

AMIS)

; While her father and | are able to guard her from you,”

{ fhetc

 

  

ieanor answered, quietly.
She judged from his manner that he had got no clue

taxed her with it, the first thing.
“Sothat is how the land lies,’ he said, harshly. -‘I
ugnt you understood, my girl, that that line was

iyed out between you and mea good while ago. What
have you been telling Lord Eaglescliffe ?’*
“Lord Eaglescliife needed no telling from me. He un-

He appealed to me to
assist him in separating you and his daughter. I prom-
ised to do allin my power, and I shall keep my word,”
she answered, firmly.

“IT could swear you would—for your own sake, more

  

Wr

BLOW

 
  
 

ACROSS THE PACK,

than tis or hers, thouga. confound it!?? be erowled;

| “nothing ever does go right with me, and the worse it

goes, the better you are suited. There’s a woman’s love

for you)?

poe gray eyes flashed fn the gloom, but she said
nothing. — : ‘
“There was that marrying scrape now—and if ever
nything Was well contrived, that was.”

“Yes, it was well contrived,” she said, watching him
with somber glance. ‘What has gone wrong ?”

Conway passed a slender hand twice over his pale face,
before lie answered.

But deeply as the shadow of the trees and coming night
felt about him, she saw how white his cheek grew.

“Grace Elroy is dead!”

If he had struck her, Eleanor Lyle could not have
shown more consternation. She stood staring at him
blankly, as though she had seen a ghost.

“How was it?” she asked, at last, a strange fright and
anxiety in ber tone.

“There was a fire,’? he answered, moistening his dry
lips. “She might have been saved, but she was obstinate,
One of the firemen dragged her to a window, where there
was a ladder, she resisting him all thetime. She tore
away from him, at the last moment, and threw herself
into the thickest of the flames. Snecame of a heaa-
strong set,” he added, as if he found consolation in the
assertion.

Eleanor’s eyes dilated with horror. ‘

“Conway,” she asked, with a sudden, half-fierce ener-
gy, “when was this? Six weeks ago? No wonder you
did not show your face here sooner. Six weeks ago, Lord
Haglescliffe was summoned to London bya leiter from
his step daughter—Marguerite Dupont. He came back,
and seid Marguerite Dupont was dead: 9nd that three
days’ absence had aged him more than any ten years in
all his life before. No wonder--no wonder—no wonder,”
she wailed. ;

Conway recoiled involuntarily before the wild accusa-
tion of ber tone.

“What do you mean?”’ he faltered.
rite Dupont to me?”?

Eleanor crossed her hands upon her panting chest as if
to Keep down the tumult within her.

“Marguerite Dupont was your victim,”’ shesaid, ‘Oh!
Vane, Vane, I understand at last, poor Daisy Dupont and
Grace Elroy were one. It was you who beguiled that
wretched girl and broke her mother’s heart."

He hung his head. The frightful fate of his victim was
yet fresh enough in his mind to affect him so much.

“Does Lord Eagiescliffe—does Lady Violet know?” he
asked, in a low voice.

“I presume the earl knows. His daughter sfiazi know,
if you make it necessary for me to tell her.”

“Who was the man that poor girl married that night?”
Fleanor asked, after some moments silence. Sne haa
reason enough to want an answer to the question.

“T shan’t tell you,”? was the sullen answer.

“Why not?”

“Lady Violet got my letter; I saw it go into her own
hands. Why didn’t she come?” he burst forth savagely.

*“Pecause, if you must know, she has promised her
father to see you no more without his consent. You
know, perhaps, whether she is likely to have that, and
whether she is a girl of her word.”

Conway muttered an oath, as he came out of the shadow
in wliich he had been stanq@ing.

“See here, Nelly,”? he sald, something like tenderness
in his tone, “I’ve treated you badly, but you know as well
asI do that, if we had. money enough betwveeu us to put
the thing through, Ud marry you to-morrow.”

“T doubt it,’? she answered, scornfully. “If I were
queen of England and there was any chance for a bigger
inatch, you would strike for it.”

ieee know we can’t marry on nothing,” he said,
sulkily.

“{ know that you lied to me the other night; that you
did not mean to keep faith with me then; I Know that
you do mean to marry Lady Violet, if you can outwit me.
Try it and see if you can.”

He saw the importance of conciliating her, and madea
desperate effort.

“Nelly,’? oh! so fondly, and bending the eloquent light
of his dangerous eyes upon her, ‘‘won’t you kiss me and
make up? You have known I was a bad fellow all along,
but I’ve always loved you.”

Eleanor caught her breath, and clasped hier hands con-
vulsively. In ner heart she believed that in spite of all—
and bad as he might be—that he did love her. Ifshe was
patient, might not all come right yet?

She let him kiss her, and watched him go, afterward,
with eyes in which gloom contended with passionate
tenderness. Then she went slowly away to the house,
thinking enviously:

‘Tf I had Lady Violet’s money, be would marry me to-
morrow. And 1 knvw we should be happy.”

As Conway left her, he was muttering:

“It is only one more to be outwitted, and Conway’s not
at the endof his rope yet. Confound it all, if 1 only had
those papers Lord Eaglescliffe holds over my head! It’s
dused hard to have to work with one’s hands tied.”?

‘“However.”? he added, after a pause, “if Nelly don’t
spliton me, I think [can manage yet. Death! how tnat
woman loves me! You’re a confounded fool for it, too,
my lass. Poor Nell!’

Miss Lyle stood a moment on the terrace, watching
with wrapt interest the tableau in the luxurious dress-
ing-room. It was not yet dark'out of doors, but the ser-
vant was just setting aglow the chandelier, and the win-
dows were still unshaded by their siiken draperies,

Lady Violet was at the piano, dressed as usual in white,
with a bunch of forget-me-nots in her long black curis.
Eleanor could not see her face, but her sweet young voice

‘What is Margue-

 

 

rang out on the night’s stillness, carolling “‘Auld Robin
Gray,’? while her lather upon one side and Gilderoy Eve-
lyn upon the other liscened and watched her like people
entranced. Just as the servant dropped the curtain be-
tween her and the trio, Eleanor saw Lord Eaglescliffe lift
a slow, thoughtful glance to Roy Evelyn’s handsome, ab-
sorbed face.

She turned about, and stood in thought a moment be-
fore she entered.

“Poor old man!? she murmured, ‘He would like those
two to marry, and he is building hopes upon the pros-
pect. It’s a weary world!” she sighed, as she envered
the house, and hurried away to her own apartments,

Lady Violet joined her late in the evening.

“Did you see him?’ she questioned, anxiously.

“Why didn’t you wait till to-morrow morning to ask
me??? responded Eleanor, tartly.

Lady Violet glanced at her tiny jeweled watch.

‘“f had no idea if was so late,” she said; “don’t be
cross, Eleanor. Captain Evelyn was here; and you know
T could not leave the drawing-room while he was there.’’

“Yes, I heard you singing away as though you had
never seen Conway. You might have made an excuse.
Youll have Captain Evelyn making love to you next.”?

Lady Violet’s dark eyes filled with hauteur, as she an-
swered, angrily:

, ok did not come here to be Tectured,
1im ??

“f saw Mr. Conway—yes, if that is what you mean,”

Lady Violet stocd turning the sparkling stones on her
white fingers, her large eyes downcast.

“What did he say ?? she asked, ina low voice, ‘“Didhe
mind my not coming—much?”

“Enough. He isn’t a stone.’?

“) was afraid of it, and Lady Violet lifted her dark,
wistful glance to the other’s face.

She was in reality so young, and she looked it at this
moment as she did noi in her haughty moeus.

' Eleanor’s ill humor dissolved as she met those great,
melancholy eyes, and remembered upon what unknown
séus this poor little tempestuous giri’s bark was already
launched.

».*He could not blame you. He did not. It was best that
you did not go. There is a lifetime yet to see him in,’
rstie said, soothingly.

CHAPTER VII.

Kt:

hi LADY VIOLET’S ROMANCE.
« Vane Conway still lingered in the vicinity of Eagtes-
clitfe, sill kept his quarters at the hotel in the town, @
ew mileszuway. Believing that the young heiress loved

im, he was firmly resolved not to depart without seeing
her.

Between her father, whom he felt he had good reason
to fear, and Miss LyJe, whom he imagmed he had hot
the least cause to dread, he found this no easy matter.

Lady Vivlet never rove out alone—not even alone wi
her groom. Miss Lyie, Lord Eaglescliffe, or Captain Eve-
lyn always accompznied her.

Hiding in the snadow of the trees, sometimes, as she
passed with Roy Evelyn, Conway fingered his pistols
nervously, and wished he dared send a ball through the
head of the handsome young guardsman, but he Sad
sense enough to know that it would be a very foolish ana
dangerous performance, much as he envied him nis op-
portunities at her side, his welcome in the half-royal
mansion from whose portals he was barred, by his own
folly, too. If hehad been more cautious, Lord Hagiesciiffe
would never have suspected what he was about, and tue
beautiful, high-born, inevitably-wealthy child might huve
been safely snared in his toils by this time.

As he thought of it, and the duns and creditors, from
whom, indeed, he was partly in hiding, down here, and
who were liable to pounce on him atany moment, he act-
ually meditated making a rush for it, and snatching the
small beauty from ber norse as she rode, and waiting ber
away to secure hiding, aud marrying her. It would be
easy enough raising money on his wife’s fortune to live
in luxury till her majority, and comme, into legal pos-
session thereof.

Ifhe had so much as suspected what sort of a trick
Eleanor Lyle had played tim, he would have been very
apt, in those days, to have put the knowledge to some
use, and with his talents at executing villainous projects,
might have made a bad matter much worse.

Lady Violet had never been quite like herself sirce the
utterance of those solemn worus in the dim old Lendon
church, which had made her, in her childishness and fol-
ly, both a wife and a victim.

It was as though the performance of the marriage cer-
emony had dispelled, magically, the illusion which had
vailed her eyes from the perception of right and wrong.
Marriage does destroy illusions, we all know.

But her dream was to havea yet ruder waking. The
romance which enveloped her lover as wth a halo, fei
off him all in a moment, as it were.

She chanced, one day, to overhear a conversation be-
tween Lord Evelyn and the Earl of. Eagiescliffe. Their
talk was of Conway, and atrthe first word the givl’s proud
lips turned white, and she sat still till she had heard
enough to make her young heart grow sick at itseW.

She had wondered some, with slight contempt of the
feeling, too, that her lover displayed such excessive cau-
tion in regard to Lord Eaglescliffe discovering the rela-
tion that existed between them. She Jearned from this
conversation the secret of that caution, and the imme-
diate occasion of his dismissal from the Cliffe.

Lord Evelyn hearing by chance, while absent’on his
brida) journey, an intimation that Conway—who, though
a distant relative he knew to be a& villain—~had designs
on tre future countess, had dispatched, by a trusty hand,
certain papers, and a confidenual communication to Lerd
Eaglesciiife. ‘lhe papers contained abselute preofs of a
capital crime of which Conway had been guilty.

Seeking his daughter at once on this receipt, the start-
led earl found her slowly pacing the conservatory on the
arm of the very Man he came to warn her against. There
was somehow a significance in the bearing of the two,
that thrilled him with vague consternation. Betterif he
had spoken plainly to her then, but he shrank so from
wounding her.

“Spe is still a child, andit is not necessary to frighten
her,” he thought. “I will dispose ef in at once and tor
ail.??

Conway accordingly, within the hour, received his sen-
tence of banishment, coupled with the intimation that
any attempt to prosecute the acquaintance clandestinely,
would be followed by his immediate arrest, and prosecu-
tion for the crime of forgery.

This conversation between the two earls, the hapless
girl forced herself to sit still and listen to.

A feverish longing filled her to know all then, and she
rewd in the stern look and tone of Lord Evelyn, that he
had come to make other, perhaps darker revelations con-
cerning bis disreputable relative, who, he informed Lord
Eaglescliffe, was still lurking in the vicinity, and was
vesperate, bad, and reckless enough, to resort to any ex-
pedient that would not peril his own safety, for the se-
curipg his ends.

Her haughty eyes only darkened with anger, when she
heard the man of whom her girlish fancy had made an
ideal hero, accused of seeking her from purely mereena-
ry motives. Her white lips only curled in angry contempt
and incredulity, when she heard him stigmatized asa
scoundrel, a base and black-hearted villain, who woulda
not scruple at taking life even, if it would shorten his
road to success.

But when Lord Evelyn, in @ low and subdued tone, pro-
ceeded to that black revelation for which all that had gone
before was but the preparation, Lady Violet from the
deep window seat in which she basked, listened witk
bated breath, and never Knew whien listening stopped.
She had fainted away behind the ‘thick silken curtains,
and nobody was the wiser, till she herself told it.

Eleanor Lyle was reading a letter. Her handsome face
was flushed with emotion, her eyes filled with tears; her
lips trembled with loving words as she read. At the ap-
proach of Lady Violet, she thrust the letter guiltily in her
bosom and turned to greet her. She rose toher feet with
@ startled exclamation at the sight of that white face and
those gleaming eyes.

**Her father has told her all, at last,?? she murmured.

The young girl came forward, @ more than usual ab-
ruptnessin her movements, and her voice had a slight
huskiness, a8 she spoke,

“Do you know where Mr. Conway is, Eleanor?” she
asked.

“He has gone,’ said Miss Lyle, desperately; ‘the has
gone upon the continent, for a two years’ absence.”

“Have you seen him again? How do you know?”

“He wrote me to that effect.”

“I can see the letter, I suppose?”

“No,?? r

Tne half-stern, half-stricken gaze of Lady Violet dwelt
upon Eleanor’s defiant face a moment steadily. Vague
doubts and suspicions, which had assailed her before, in
regard to Mleanor, returned now in a new form.

“T don’t know whether you are my enemyor my
friend,” she said, gloomily.

Miss Lyle’s gray eyes emitted a strange gleam.

“Perhaps you will know, some day.”

“Perpaps { shall,’ the other said, watching her still.

“Did you know that”’—she caught her breath a little,
between the words—‘‘Mr. Conway’s mother was an Eve-
lyn—that from boyhood, till ten years ago, he lived at
the Nest, equally beloved and cherished by its lord with
his heir???

“T knew it.’?

“Pid you know that he was driven from the Nest, ten
years ago—he was only twenty then-—for twice attempt-
ing the life of the boy, seven years younger than himself,
who stood between him and the heirship?”?

Miss Lyle’s face was white already. It turned ghastly
now.

“It is not true,’”’ she gasped,

“Thad it from Lord Evelyn’s own lips,’ Lady Violet
answered, bitterly. ‘He was putting papa on his guard
about me. I heard Conway’s name, and lL listened. Yes,
Miss Lyle, my father’s daughter delfberately sat and lis-
tened to conversation not intended for her ears, 1t’s no
degradation, under the circumstances,’? she added,
scornfully. ‘‘Husband and wife are one flesh, you know.”?

Eleanor sat like one stupefied, regarding the excited
girl with dazed eyes,

“Am I not an honored wife ?”? she resumed, a mocking
glitter in her proudeyes. ‘Shall I not give to Nagles-
cliffe such a lord as never yet trod its stately halls. Heis
wise to go,’? she resumed, after a chill silence of some
moments; ‘“‘my Black Prince did well to flee the reckon-
ing with me—to say nothing of that which Lord Hagles-
cliffe holds over his head.”’

“Lord Eaglesclitfe?’’ gasped Eleanor, scarce Knowing
what she said.

“The officers have been in waiting for him any timefor
the last month,” said Lady Violet, with an involuntary
shiver. ‘If he had succeeded in holding an interview
with me, he would have been arrested on the instant for
forgery. Papa holds the proofs. Pleasapt that would
have been for all of us, would it not???

 

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