The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1886-09-25 00:00:00

CHAPTER XXXW.

CHANGED.

What mighty ills have not been done by woman?
Who was't betrayed the Capitol? A woman!
Who lost Mark Antony the world? A woman !
Who was the cause of a long ten years' war,
And laid at last old Troy in ashes? Woman !
Destructive, damnable, deceitful woman !
—OTWAY, A.D. 1651.
A NOTE for Beryl lay on the hall table when
Beryl and her cousin got home to the Grange.
She recognised Mr. Carson's handwriting, and tore
it open.
"The dear old man !" she said to her cousin. "He
is back, Noel. He has got home from Southampton",
and is going to bring his son here to see me, this
evening !"
"It is a pity he will see you looking so pale.
my darling," the young man replied. "He will
think England is net agreeing with our Atherstone
rose."
" Pale ! He shall not see me looking pale !" she sam
with a bright sparkle in her eyes. "I mean to receive
him right royally. Ride home. Noel, dear; and
bid them all to dine with me. He shall have a welcome
fit for for a prince. Make Lilly come too; I will take
care that they shall have their meeting, where no
curious eyes can watch them. Hasten. if you love me.
Noel. I promise you, your friend shall see that he is
welcome at Atherstone Grange."

She was wildly excited; and, indeed, Noel himselt
was not much less so. Graham Carson had been his
dearest friend, and it was with a feeling of unmixed
joy that he contemplated his coming home.
"I'm sure they will all come," he said; "but would
you not rather be quieter this evening, dear Beryl?
Mr. Carson and his son may have much to say to you;
"I don't see what. Mr. Carson and I have gone
over all the business we can possibly have to talk
about long ago. Mr. Graham Carson I hardly know.
I only saw him a very few times during the saddest
days I ever knew. My remembrance of him is
curiously indistinct. I was trying to recall his face
only the other day, but beyond an impression that he
resembles his father very much, I cannot realise it in
the least."
"He is very like the old man, there is rio doubt of
that," said Noel. '6 I hope he is not much changed by
this terrible illness that we have heard about. Well,
my darling, I'm off. Look for an irruption of
Rectory guests' in something under an hour. You'll
have to put the dinner back a little."
"Half an hour, sir—no more; not a minute's grace,
remember."

She went upstairs trillinc, a lively song—one which
had often been re-demanded when Beryl Atherstene
was the star of the Melbourne theatre. She had kept
her sweet, fresh voice, and sent it out ringing like a
silver bell, till the ball-door clanged to behind her
cousin. Not an instant longer—the song stopped
then, and she clenched her hand over the crumpled
note.
"What will to-night bring forth?" she muttered.
"Shall I be as lovely and triumphant as ever, when
three hours have passed over my head? or will the
secret of Beryl Atherstone's life be revealed, and all the
old Australian artifices shown up to the broad light
of day? Bah! I am turning coward! lam no
mistress of stage art if I let this man's advent over-
power me. I must not forget that I have been an
actress all my life, and be once more for 'this night
only. as our bills used to set forth so unblushingly."
With the note crushed in her hand, she sought Mrs.
Dalton's room.
"Well," said that lady, as she entered, "what is the
matter now ?"

"Nothing."
"Yes, there is. I can read your face as though it
were a book. Something has happened."
For answer Beryl put the note into her hands; nay,
tossed it at her almost. She was not nearly so
deferential in her conduct to Mrs. Dalton when they
were alone, nor did she exhibit any tenderness what-
ever towards her. She seemed actuated by a sense of
duty only.
"What are you going to do ?" gasped the old
woman, with a face whiter than the paper.
"Do ! Make a little fete Ito receive him. I have
Eent for my cousins from the'Rectopy. He is engaged
to Lillian, you know."
"You must be mad !"
"No, I am not; but I think you are."
What do you want me to do?

"Just what what I am going to do myself—put
on your best and bravest, and come down and dine
with us. It is the least I can do to receive him well,
after all he has endured, through his travels in search
of me.
" But—"

"There's no but in the matter. You will have
to see him as I shall, and surely your nerves are net so
shattered that you shrink from meeting strangers.
Put on your black satin, and the white lace, and look
the lady you are. I am going to wear white lace
looped up with black leaves. I would put on all the
Atherstone diamonds, only lam in mourning. Graham
Carson shall see a different Beryl Atherstone from the
pale, grief-stricken girl he found in her house last
year!'
"Different, indeed," said the old lady, with a sigh.
"I should hardly have known you, Miss Atherstone,
you are so changed. I sometimes think you are for-
getting your poor mother."
"?o; lam not. I shall never forget her; but
these people—my cousins, I mean—never knew her,
you see, so I can't talk tender memories with them.
Perhaps it is as well."
"Perhaps it is," grimly replied Mrs. Dalton, "If
Mrs. Atherstone had lived things would have been
very different. Ido not think I will come down to
dinner, if you will excuse me; but I will not fail to
appear later. My toilette shall not disgrace Miss
A.therstone's house. _ _

Beryl had never been more affable to her maid,
or more anxious to look well than she ap-
peared on this particular evening. Her delicate
dress, with its light knots of black ribbon and leaves,
became her admirably, and a few black and white
flowers rested among her glossy curls. Some whim
or other made her dress her rippling hair as she had
worn it in Melbourne, lifted a little from her face,
and tightly drawn back and confined in a loose bunch
of curls behind. It became the contour of her face
admirably, but she did not often wear it so, because
it showed the seam which she had received in her
childish day's. It was partly visible to-night, and
was very red and livid. I'atty suggested the hair
being brought a little lower, to hide the blemish, but
her mistress would not have it so; it seemed rather
as if she wished it to be seen.
Very like her father she looked as she stood in the
drawing-room, waiting for her cousins, and very like
the actmss of the Melbourne stage. Hardly so like
the gentle, loving Beryl, who had been the comfort of
her sick mother's d9clining years. The love and
tenderness had vanished, except when Noel was by.
She poured out upon him all the womanly softness
that wealth had left her.

Graham Carson had told his father the strange tale
he had related to Allan Temple, and the old lawyer
had duly weighed it over in his mind, and pronounced
his belief that he was mistaken. _

"The fancy is part of the delirium, my boy," he
said. "There was no possible motive for such a
thing. The old woman had no interest in you in any
way. Your fancying that I was there speaking to
you goes far to prove the delusion."
"I don't think it was a delusion, father."
"Well, you'll see the old lady by and bye. It there's
any truth in it, she'll show it in her face, depend upon
it."
"I don't think she will see me." _ _

_
"If she refuses, I shall fancy there is something in
it. True or not, my boy, you are safe at home again.
Safe and well, thank heaven!"
Beryl need not have arranged anything about the
young lovers' meeting. Graham Carson went straight
to the Rectory, and had bounded in through the window
of the morning-room, and clasped pretty Lilly to his
breast before anyone knew he was there. She was alone
in the room, and he caught sight of her, and went in
sans ceremonie. What they said, or how they greeted
one another, they never knew. Does anyone ever
know what words are uttered when dear ones come
back, from the grave as it were, to gladden our eyes
and hearts.
Lilly's head was still hidden az her lover's shoulder
when the rector peeped in.
" Heydey !" he exclaimed, as the pair started apart,
the tears falling fast from Lilly's eyes. "When you
have done hugging that young lady, my boy, perhaps
you will let me have a hand."
But there were tears in his eyes, too; and his voice
broke into a sob, as he bade Graham welcome home
again; and then Mrs. Atherstone and Noel followed,
and the younger ones after them; and there was such
a greeting and welcoming that Graham thought it
was worth all he had suffered to have such a home-
welcoming; and then they set off for the Grange.
Beryl came out into the hall to meet them, and
greeted her former acquaintance with empresseme;rt.
"I was telling my cousin that I hardly remembered
you, Mr. Carson," she said. "I did myself an in-
justice. I should have known you anywhere, though
you are much altered. lam very glad to see you safe
back again."
"I am very glad to be safe back, Miss Atherstone, I
can assure you," he replied, staring at her perhaps
more fixedly than was consistent with good breeding.
He felt as though he could not take his eyes off her;
she was so strangely altered, so curiously changed into
a mysterious glittering likeness of her former self.
He-puzzled himself knot a little to detect where the
alteration,lay,Nand came to the conclusion that her
good fortune had spoiled her, as it spoils so many.
"Poor Allan ! poor Allan I" he thought to himself.
"He had better not come."
During dinner Beryl chatted to him about. her
Australian friends, and he purposely mentioned Allan's
name, a-nd spoke of the kindness he had received from
him and his father.
"Allan Temple always was a good-hearted fellbw,"
Beryl said, carelessly.
"You knew him. then, my dear ?" said Mrs. Ather-
stone, from her side of the table.
"Knew him !" and Beryl's laugh rang out in a silvery
peal. "I should think I did, auntie. Why, I have
acted with him hundreds of times. He was my stage
lover—the hero of a hundred dramatic romances—the
sharer of all my triumphs. A gentlemanly young
man he was, too.'
She cast a defiant look at Graham Carson as she
spoke, as if to let him see that she thought of the actor
only as a mere acquaintance, and he said no more.
After the ladies had left the dining room, Noel told
him how his cousin had promised to be his wife. and
how happy he was.
" Slic,‘ is an angel!" he said, impulsively; "and
I am the happiest man on earth but for one
thing."
"And that is---?"

" The dread that people will think me mercenary.
You will acquit me of money-hunting, I know, old
fellow. Were Beryl a beggar to-morrow, I should
love her just the same; more—if more could be."
"Miss Atherstone is very beautiful and winning,
and I hope from my heart you will be happy," said
the young lawyer, so gravely that Noel turned to him
in surprise.
"Are you disappointed in her? Don't you like
her?" he asked.

"My acquaintance with her is too slight to warrant
like or dislike," he replied. " I can hardly be disap-
pointed in a lady I scarcely know. She is changed,
certainly, but I saw her under peculiar and distressing
circumstances."

"But you knew her again?"
"Oh, instantly; hers is a face not easily forgetten.
Shall we join the ladies? I confess lam anxious to
see Mrs. Dalton."

"The old lady wouldn't feel flattered if she knew
what you think of her," Noel said, laughing.
"Perhaps she does. I see my father has vanished;
and I know he had some idea of going and having a
private talk with her. It cannot be, surely, that my
mind is permanently unhinged, Noel, can it? for I
feel as sure of what passed on that eventful day, as I
do that I am standing here."
"It will all be cleared up sometime depend upon
it," Noel replied. He hardly knew what to say about
so strange an hallucination, for such he felt sure it
was; and they adjourned to the drawing-room.
A tall, stately old lady, in satin and lace, rose from
a chair in a corner, and greeted him with easy grace.
He hardly recognised in her the prim lodging house-
keeper whom he remembered in Melbourne, and took
the hand she offered him, in blank amazement.
"I have been hearing a strange story, Mr. Carson,"
she said. "Your father has been telling me that you
are under the impression that / wanted to murder
you. Allow me to congratulate you most heartily on
your escape from my machinations, and bid you a
warm welcome home."
"I am sure Graham is convinced now that that

particular fancy was only one amongst many
others," said his father, with a smile; and Graham
was fain to mutter that he supposed it must have
been, and to stare at Mrs. Dalton with a strange feel-
jug of unreality and perplexity that he could not ac-
count for or shake off.
"The first intimation I had that you were not gone
with Miss Atherstone and my poor Ursula, was in the
terrible letter which brought me the news of my dear
granddaughter's death," the old lady said. "Till that
time I fully believed you were away on the sea, on
your road to England."
"I was not, madam. I was lying insensible within
a mile of your house."
"It is very strange! Had I the slightest idea of
your presence in Melbourne, or of your suspi,ions, I
should have sought you out, and let you know how
utterly they were without foundation."
" I sought you," the young man said. "But you
had left, and none could tell where you were gone."
"I was not aware that anyone was interested in
my movements," replied Mrs. Dalton, with a touch of
hauteur in her tone," except my tradespecple ; and
there was no necessity to leave any address with them
—they were not likely to run after me. I left some-
what suddenly, at Miss Atherstone's kind invitation.
She knew how lonely my old age was likely to be,
and offered me a share of her home till my future
plans were determined on."
"Miss Atherstone is very kind," was all Graham
Carson could say, and he presently -took his leave,
pleading fatigue and the still visible effects of his. ill-
ness, as an excuse for not remaining late. He thought
very sadly of Allan Temple as he drove home with
his father.
Shall I undeceive them ?" he thought. "Shall I
tell Noel Atherstone what a vain, hear less woman his
'angel' is? Shall I tell him of the lovinc, heart that
is breaking on the other side of the world for the sake
of her fair, false beauty? No ; I will leave things
here as I found them. Let him go his own way and
marry her; she may be true to km. Heaven grant
she will be! As for Allan, poor fellow! I'll write to
him and stop his coming here, if I can. He shan't
come into such an atmosphere of lies, unprepared for
the shock. if I can help it.'

Allan Temple was on the sea, speeding to England
as fast as wind and steam could bring him, but a letter
would meet him at Suez, and to that busy little port
Graham Carson resolved to write.
His father noticed the puzzled look on his face as
he spoke to Beryl Atherstone, and asked him what it
meant.
"I can't tell," was his reply. "I am puzzled, and
don't know why."
"She is altered, I suppose."
" Y es, that's it. She is altered. I knew her at
once. No one could mirtake her face, who had once
seen it. The change is Indefinable, but most wonder-
ful and complete. I could have sworn that the Miss
Atherstone I met in Melbourne was a gentle, pure,
true-hearted girl—one whom a man could love with
the love that comes but once to any of us."

"Graham !"
"Don't be alarmed, father. She did not touch my
heart in that way. My sweet Lilly's love is an armour
of proof. I only say I thought Miss Atherstone all
this, and I find her-"

"What?"
"A heartless woman! A frivolous, vain coquette—
of whom I hope to see 'and hear as little as possible
the young man replied, shortly.
(To be continued.)

THE Flusinat* üBURNAM
A BRITISH COLUMN BESIEGED.

The following has been received from the India
Office from the Viceroy, dated Monday:
"2nd Bat'alion Royal Scots Fusiliers, Major D.
Auchinleck, wounded severely. 2nd Battalion South
Wales Borderers, Major R. A. P. Clements, wounded
slightly • N 0.3030, Private Head, No. 1219, Private
Lewis, killed; No. 2162, Sergeant Newe, No. 2990,
Private Bickley, No. 1650, Private Loaton, wounded
severely, near Taindah, on the 13th."
_ _ _ RANGOON, September 19.
.

News received here from Thayetniyo states that
the western frontier column, under Major Clements,
is practically besieged in Taindah, the reinforcements
sent from Allanmyo not having succeeded in relieving
it.
To-night two hundred men of the sth Madras
Native Infantry and eighty men of the South Wales
Borderers, under Colonel Nephew, were despatched
by special train.
Besides Bosweh there are several noted rebels lend-
ing the Dacoits.

RANGOON, Sept. 18.
A municipal government is to be establised at Man-
dalay. The Commissioner has appointed one hundred
elders and fifteen hundred younger men to manage
the affairs of the city and suburbs, under a Deputy
Commission. They will receive no pay, but will be
exempted from taxation.
Brigadier General Anderson telegraphs from
Meiktila that the Kvemindini Prince and Buda Ram
have come from l'Tingyan to Yemethen, in which
district attacks on small posts are of frequent occur-
rence.

Boh Shoaydah, in the Toungdwingyee district, is
making terms of surrender.

General Macpherson arrived in Mandalay yester-
day morning. The river there continues to rise

SIMLA., Sept. 20.
The report of the death of the Myingaing Prince,
the chief Burmese Pretender, is fully confirmed on
the authority of witnesses who have seen the body.