The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1886-06-26 00:00:00

[ALL EIGHTS RESERVED./
THE HEIRESS

ATHERSTONE GRANGE.

BY THE AUTHOR OF

.1.14.i11an Thornton," "Effie Baird," "Almost 4
Criminal," " Le,onora's Legacy," 4.c.
CHAPTER XVI.
SEMPEII FIDELIS.

And to his
' There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on him.—BYRON.
les agitation was very natural. In spite of her
Money, and the wonderful prospects opened to her, it
did seem as though she were very friendless and forlorn;
and Graham Carson pitied her from his heart. He was
Strangely fascinated by her. She was something so
very different from what he had expected to see. He
had gone about, after the fashion of young men, and
had made the acquaintance of actresses now and then,
to find them for the most part free of speech, brusque,
and hasty of manner, and remarkably well able to
take care of themselves.
Beryl was widely different. She was to all intents
and purposes a lady. Gentle and retiring in deport-
Ment, and with a sweet, low voice, which it was im-
possible to connect with double entendre, or freedom
of any sort—such a girl as any man might be proud
to acknowledge as his sister, or the most fastidious of
high-bom ladies to introduce as her daughter. It
made her all the more difficult to get on with. He
could not talk to her as he could have done to a more
Common and self-possessed young woman. He com-
forted her as well as he could, and she dried her eyes,
and promised to do all that he wished.
"I will ask Mrs. Dalton to engage someone for me,''
she said; "and you must forgive me if I am trouble-
Some, and weighed down by my sorrow, Mr. Carson.
Put yourself in my place, and think how you would
feel if you were leaving England and everyone you
loved for ever."
She nearly broke down again at the words, but
-recovered he:self with a great effort, and the young
-lawyer lcoeed at her keenly. He had heard all about
Allan Temple during his stay at Milha,ven, and won-
dered how the love affair would end. He had taken
the occasion to make the young man's acquaintance,
and liked him very much.
"There'll be trouble with him if they want her to
Marry anyone else," he thought, "and she's not the
girl to do it, ether. I foresee storms when we get
home."
But the sequel proved him mistaken, as time will
Show.
Beryl followed his advice, and sought counsel of
Mrs. Dalton, who had proved herself unremittingly
kind, though not obsequious, since her nraher's death.
She found her in her little parlour, and with a queer,
Puzzled expression on her face that she could not
Understand. She had seen that look there more
tr less ever since her mother's death. It seemed as if
the old lady were trying to think out something that
Was occupying her mind, and could not see how to
do it.
"Well, dear," she said, as Beryl entered. "Do you
Want anything of me?"
"I want you to help me," said Beryl with a smile
and a sigh. "Mr. Carson said I must have a maid to
go with me. Will you do it for me ? I should make
111:41a9 terrible blunder, I know, and find myself out at
Sea with some dreadful creature, who would do with
me just what she pleased, and make me wretched. I
would much rather go without one."
"That would hardly do for Miss Atherstone of the
Grange," said Mrs. Dalton, in such a curious voie,
that Beryl looked up in astonishment, and saw thnt
her face wag white and drawn.
"You are ill," she said. "I did not know. Simile
70ther time."
"No, dear; it is nothing. I feel a little out pf
Spirits, and worried that is all. These changes upset
an old woman like me. And all this raking up of the
Atherstone name has roused old memories that I
thought were dead. Of course you must have a maid,
my child; and I will get you one. That is, if you
Will have one of my providing."
"I shall only be too glad, dear Mrs. Dalton."
"Then take Ursula."
"Take who?" Beryl doubted whether she had
heard aright.
"Ursula."
"For my maid?"
"Just so."
Beryl stared in amazement. She thought the proud,
Stern old woman was going out of her wits. She did
did not speak, and Mrs. Dalton went on.
"You know her, my dear; and like her,. I think.
Do you not r
"Indeed I do. Dear Ursula!"
"Then she would be better than a stranger. dile
knows your ways, and you would feel more at hohae
With her than a stranger."
"That I should. But, dear Mrs. Dalton, I cannot
take Ursula as a maid. She is my friend, my corn-
She was pleased at the idea of having her hostess
granddaughter with her, but puzzled at the pro.
Position, and at Mrs. Dalton's manner of making it.
Her face was turned away when she answered
Beryl's last words.
"Call her what you will; she said; "maid or com-
panion, but let her go with you."
"But will she like it?"
"She knows I wish it. I have been waiting an
Opportunity for her to go to Europe for some time.
There are imperative reasons why she should. If she
does not like it, or you should wish to part with her;
she can return. She will not be friendless in England,
Miss Atherstone. You will oblige me very much if
you will let her go."
"I shall never want to part with her," said Beryl,
Impulsively. "It would make me very happy. But
She will not go dB maid. She will be my dear, kind
friend, as she has always been since I came into this
house. But can you spare her, dear Mrs. Dalton?
What will you do without her ?"
"As I can, my child. We old people must learn to
do without the young ones. They all take wings and
fly away some time."
" But you will miss her so."
"I shall do very well. You will have her, then?"
Beryl assented joyfully. But she was perplexed.
There was something underneath the surface that she
Could not make out. But she supposed it had to do
With the friends in England, of whom Mrs. Dalton
had spoken and said nothing.
"Ursula will tell me," she thought. "I shall hear
all about it from her."
But when Ursula came to her room that night it
'Was with a white, terrified face, and the traces of tears
on her cheeks.
"Are you sure you like to go?" Beryl asked
her. _

"Oh, yes! I always like to be with you. Besides,
I am going for grandma's sake. I don't seem very
loving, I daresay, Miss Atherstone, to outsiders, but
I would do anything for her—die for her, if she
'Wished it, and it would do her any good,"
And so the matter was settled, and Mrs. Dalton
busied herself about Ursula's outfit, the girl helping
in a strange, mechanical sort of way that puzzled
Beryl not a little. Both she and her grandmother
Were strangely silent about it, and Ursula's spirits
seemed to sink lower and lower as the time drew
Mar.

It was a great relief to Graham Carson's mind that
Beryl had secured a companion. It took all the
awkwardness off the prospect of the journey.
Beryl busied herself in ordering dressesand all sorts
of things for Ursula, as nearly like her own as possible,
and the young man was glad to see her so constantly
employed.
Be was terribly bored by his embassy. He had
found Beryl in such terrible trouble that he could not
propose any way of entertaining her, and the prospect
of the voyage was not pleasant. He heartily wished
that his father had come out instead of him. But the
clear-headed, outspoken lawyer, who had so fearlessly
pleaded the cause of the disowned son, and his inno-
cent wife and child, was an old man now, with hair
as white as the squire's had been and limbs some-
thing feebler than of yore. His mind was as clear as
ever, but he left all the active and bustling part of
the business to his son.
Be was much too old to think of a sea voyage, and
felt quite comfortable in the knowledge that he had
Sent such a very competent and pleasant substitute.
Graham pressed the young ladies to hurry their
preparations as much as possible; and, in due time,
everything was ready for them to return to Europe in
the Psyche.
Beryl left many acquaintances behind, but only
one dear friend her betrothed husband—Allan
Temple.
A sad foreboding was in the young man's heart, as
he clasped her to his breast, and passionately prayed
her hot to forget him.
"They will wean your heart from me, my darling;
he said. "They will make you forget me."
"Never, dear Allan, till I forget myself," she res-
Ponded lovingly.
"They will tell you that a poor Milhaven actor is
no husband for you; that you ought to mate with
someone in your own rank of life."
s "And, if they do, I shall tell them I won't," she re-
plied, gaily. ." I'm not a baby in leading strings,
Allan. They can't shut me up like a naughty child,
and keep me on bread and water till I do what they
bid me."
"But there are other ways, dear. You don't know
What agencies may be brought to bear on you to make
You forget me."
"Nothing can do that, you foolish Allan. If they
trY any nonsense on with me, I shall baffle them."
"What will you do ?"
Beryl nestled closer to his breast, and looked up
into his eyes.
"I should run away, dear, and come to you. You
wouldn't despise me for it, would you ?"
"Despise you? Oh, Beryl !"
"And you'd take me without any fortune ?'
" Try me."
"Very well. Then if I am not happy in England,
or,these fine friends of mine don't use me well, look
me some day, a travel-stained, weary creature,
IrIVI nothing but her love to give you; for as sure as
ag_name is Beryl Atherstone, come, and then let
• ma get me back again if they can. Money will be
aotilitio to me without you, Allan."
A-Pd Temple pressed her to his heart, and believed
er ai men do believe fair women. and reeked not of

a future, when other and bitterer thoughts could be
called up in his heart by the name he ozice loved so
dearly.
"Only be my wife, and it matters little how you
come," he said, and then he lifted her hand, and put
a little ring on her finger.
"it was my mother's," he said. "She came of a
good family and this was their motto—' Semper
fidelis.' Will you be always faithful, Beryl ?"
"Nothing will end my faith till life ends with it,'
she said. "Think of this little token as always on my
finger, dear. I snail never part from it."
She kissed the ring and him, and tore herself away;
for she had still much to do, and the next day would
see her final farewell.

Allan going home, heavy of heart and weary of
footstep, met Graham Carson in the street.
The young lawyer saw his dejection, and strove to
cheer him.

"You can follow," he said, "as soon as you like.
Perhaps the sooner the better. Though I don't think
Miss Atherstone is likely to be changed or spoiled by
her prosperity."
"I do not fear her."
"But you fEar something?"
"I do."
"What ?"

"I can hardly tell you. The feeling is more presen-
timent than fear. It seems to me as though when I
look upon my darling's face to-morrow that I shall
see it for the last time.%You will take care of her
for me, Mr. Carson—my Beryl—she is going to
strangers, and alone."
There were tears in his eyes, and a sob in his voice
as he spoke, and Graham Carson felt for him from his
heart.

"I will take as much care of her as though I were
trusted with the escort of a queen," he said—" as
though she were my own dear sister. Miss Rhodes
also will."

"I wish that girl were not going," broke in Allan,
impetuously.
" Why ? I thought it the most comfortable arrange-
ment that could be made. Miss Atherstone herself is
delighted withit. What is your objection ?"
"I don't know," Allan replied. "I could not put
my objection into words. But I had much rather she
was going to take a total stranget than that young
lady. You'll think I'm a little crazy, perhaps, but I'm
not. I don't like Ursula Rhodes, and I don't like that
old harridan of a grandmother of hers. She is a hag
in spite of her grand duchess airs. And I feel quite
certain that that girl's going bodes no good to my
Beryl. I wish I could put ray thoughts into words
about it, but I can't. The feeling is there, and nothing
can take it away."
"No harm shall come to Miss Atherstone while I am
on board the Psyche, be sure of that," said Graham.
"I'll keep a sharp watch over Miss Rhodes, never
fear.'

"I shall only wait to hear from Beryl to follow
her," said the young actor. "I ought to give her up,
Mr. Carson. I tried to tell her she was freck, but she
would not hear of it. I cannot do it; it would break
my heart."
"And hers too, I am thinking," said the young
lawyer. He liked Allan Temple very much, and
secretly resolved to further his interests in every
possible way.
"You'll come on board with us to-morrow ?" he
said.

" Ah, yes! I must see the last of my darling."
Beryl was a little puzzled at Mrs. Dalton's extreme
anxiety to get them on board the Psyche early. She
declined to go with them herself, but seemed nervously
anxious for their departure.
"But we have three hours," Beryl argued. "Surely
one will be enough to wait board before we
start."

"No, it isn't. I know what a sea voyage is.
You'll want all your time to arrange your cabin and
get accustomed to the ship. You'll be out in blue
water before you know where you are else."
"Grannie wants to get rid of us," said Ursula, who
was very pale and quiet over the coming parting.
"Yes, that's just it," said the old woman, with a
curious spasm passing over her face. "I want to get
it over. It is like tearing out my heart-strings to send
my girl away, and if the prospect of it lasts much
longer I shall break down altogether. Take them
away, gentlemen, since they must go. I shall be
better when they are gone."
The young men obeyed the behest, and took the
weeping girls away; their luggage had been sent on
the day before.
Mrs. Dalton did not break down when they were
gone. She stood at the window, with a strange, set
look upon her face, and watched them till they were
out of sight. Then she turned away, and locked her-
self into her own room. _ _

"Now," she muttered, in a strange unnatural voice,
"now it is my time to work."
Her servants thought their mistress very much
agitated and distressed by the loss of her grandnhild.
They none of them saw her for many hours, and
when, towards evening, one of them begged for ad-
mission into her room, and tried to persuade her to
take a cup of tea, she looked so pale and haggard,
that the girl was quite frightened, and asked if she
should fetch anyone.
Mrs. Dal said, "N All alai ,nted to Iv

.ton. ke with— was )e
Act alone." And the next morning she was moving
about again as usual, very pale, but as self-possessed
as ever, and apparently quite reconciled to Ursula's
absen C 3.
Ursula's eagerness to get away from home puzzled
Beryl not a little. She seemed in quite as great a
hurry as her grandmother to get the parting over, but
there was a wild, haggard look upon her face that
pained her companion to see.
" Dear Ursula," she said, "it is not too late yet to
draw back, if you repent this step. I can go very
well alone."
"Repent !" exclaimed Ursula, in surprise. "Oh, I
don't repent. I don't like leaving grannie, of course.
But it's all right. lam quite content to go."
The proposed voyage had worked a great change in
Ursula Rhodes. She had lost all her gay, girlish
spirits, and become moody and silent. Great circles
had come round her eyes, and she looked so pale and
wan that Beryl began to repent of having allowed her
to accompany her to England.
"Are you afraid of the sea ?" she asked as they
went on board, for Ursula had given a sick shiver as
they stepped across the plank to the ship.
"Oh, no !"
"What made you shudder like that?"
"Did I shudder? I did not know. No, dear, I'm
not nervrus, but I'm ill, Beryl, and you must forgive
me if I seem cold and cross. All this worry has
brought on neuralgia. I was half mad with it last
night. I shall be all right again when we get out to
sea."