The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1886-12-18 00:00:00

RENDING THE VEIL.

To each his suffering; all are men,
Condemned alike to groan—
The tender for another's pain,
The unfeeling for his own—GRAY.
COLD and gray at first, but growing brighter, warmes ,
se the morning mists rolled away before the beams of
the advancing sun, the day broke over Atherstone
Grange on its young mistress's wedding morn.
Out in tie brown woods, beginning to get bare of
leaves now, the birds sang and twittered at what re-
mained of summer, and there was nothing in all the
broad landscape to tell aught of sin or sorrow, but yet
how heavily laden a cloud of both was even then, in
the bright sunshine, hanging over the ancestral home
f the squires of Atherstone!
; Within doors all was bustle and merry excitement.
Beryl's attendant bridesmaids were as:embled in her
!room soon after daylight, for a wedding costume takes
'some time to don, and the ceremony was to be an early
tone. But all was completed at last, and Beryl stood
(in the midst of the admiring bevy of fair girls that
clustered round her, as bright and radiant a vision of
loveliness as ever graced the eyes of an expectant
bridegroom.
All the gloom of the past night was gone, and to see
her then no one would hive thought it possible that
any trace of care had ever rested on her brow. Her
cheeks were flushed with excitement, her blue eyes
danced with a glad light to which they had been
strangers for the past few days. Her soft white satin
dress clung round her in shining, graceful folds, and
the exquis'tely fitting corsage showed her slight figure
to its fullest advantage. Diamonds—the Atherstone
heirlooms—glittered at her throat and round her arms,
and the costly veil fell about her like a filmy, gossamer
Cloud.
At length the toilette was complete, and her com-
panions, Lillian the first among the number, crowded
round her with loving words and caresses, which she
submitted to with the grace of a young queen.
"There, that will do," she exclaimed, gaily, at last.
"I shall not be fit to be seen, presently. Leave me
alone, please, for a little while,"—and then, as they
were bustling out of the room in obedienoe to her re-
quest, she whispered Lillian to remain for a while.
Then when they were alone, she took both the
hands Of her companion in her own, and looked wist-
fully at her.
" Jt seems almost too much happiness for my de.
servings, Lily," she said. "In another hour, or little
snore, we shall be sisters."
"I would not wish for a dearer or a better one,"
murmured Lilly, laying her face caressingly against
Beryl's.
" Even though your husband that is to be, some
time, doesn't approve of me ?"
"Us, Beryl, don't!" pleaded poor Lilly, vexed tears
filling her soft eyes. "Graham doesn't know you as I
"You are right," was Beryl's answer. "He does
not. But shall you always care for me as you do
now
"Of course I shall! What is there to change
me ? "
"Heaven knows! But suppose, Lily—only suppose,
you know—that everybody turned against me—that I
should be scorned and despised—if ever—oh, heaven!
if Noel himself should reject me, would you be my
friend, still ?"
"I wish you wouldn't suppose such very impossible
things," said Lilly, wondering much what possessed
her friend, but charitably imagining that it was only
nervousness which prompted such questionings.
"But I do suppose them," persisted Beryl, who
seemed strangely earnest. "I want an answer,
Lily."
"Really?"
" Rally!"
"I can hardly imagine such a case," Lily returned,
slowly. "But "
" Well ?"
'lf it were so, I don't think anything could alter
my feelings for you, Beryl. But don't talk about
such things any more, dear. You are just worn out
and over excited."
"No ! lam perfectly sensible. And you will be
my friend. Lily, my sister, whatever betides ?"
"Till death, Beryl. I shall never cease to care for
you."
"Kiss me on that, Lily, darling."
The girl stooped forward to do so, but suddenly
stopped.
" What is that ?" she cried, in a startled voice.
Beryl started suddenly.
"So !" she said, in a hoarse whisper. "It has
come !"
"What has come ?"
"The end. "Do you not her them ?"
There was a confused murmur of many voices in
the hall. A stifled scream, then heavy footsteps and
the next moment, Mrs. Dalton, her face haggard and
drawn with pain, tottered into the room and sank upon
a chair.
"Shut the door !" she exclaimed, in a quick, un-
natural voice. "It has come !"
Beryl's own words! What could it mean?
thought Lilly, as she gazed helplessly from one to the
other.
Beryl made no answer' but walked quickly to the
dressing table, from which she picked up a little chased
gold casket.
Then the door was flumzuncerimoniously open, and
the ro sm was filled with people, foremost among whom
was Mr. Lewis, and behind him two policemen in
uniform. •
All was confusion and dismay—save on one face—
as Lewis came hastily forward towards Beryl, and laid
his hand upon her shoulder. Lilian could not under-
stand it; it seemed to her that she heard her friend—
the girl she had helped to adorn for her bridal—was
being spoken to in a harsh tone, addressed by some
strange, unknown name, "Ursula Rhodes !" Surely,
that was the name of the poor girl who had died, but
they had called her so.
Ali! heaven! Now she understood it all—under-
stood the words so recently spoken to her—and the
room began to reel before her eyes, when she was
roused by the entrance of more people—her father, a
stranger, Dr. Twist, and Graham Carson, to whose
side she sprung with a low cry of terror.
"Oh, Graham !" she cried. "What does this
mean?"
"Come away from here," he said, with white lips.
-"It is no place for you."
But she would not stir.
" Tell me what it means," she exclaimed.
"You will know only too soon," he replied.
But there was no time now for asking or answering
questions. The luxuriously fitted dressing-room pre-
sented a curious scene. Terrified girls, whispering
servants, blue-coated officers of police, and, in their
midst, her white dress gleaming in the soft morning
light that shone so merrily on all, the young mistress
of Atherstone Grange, paler indeed than anyone there,
but still more calm and self-collected.
"This is no place for you," again whispered Graham
Carson to Lily, as her father turned and ordered the
servants out of the room. Mrs. Atherstone remained,
and so did Lillian, who refused to stir.
"Not even for your sake, Graham," she said, de-
ci ledly, as the young man strove to persuade her into
leaving the apartment. " Not ten minutes back I
promised her that, through good report and evil report,
I would be her friend, her sister, though all the world
beside should turn away fron aer. Unless lam put
out by main force, I will keep my word."
Graham looked at her in astonishment as she spoke.
Could this be his meek, gentle Lillian? But she gave
him no opportunity of remonstrating, for she walked
away from him and up to the passive figure standing
there by the dressing table so calm and still, and en-
circled it with her arms as with a shield.
"She was my friend," she said with quivering lips.
"Was to have been my sister this very morning, and
I love her. Whatever wrong she has done, I have
loved her, and will not quit her side now. Papa, I
may stay, may I not ?"
"You had better not, my dear," he answered.
though he offered no further opposition.
At the other end of the room another scene was
going on at the same time. Mr. Lewis, who was in
reality the second detective sent down from London,
had approached Mrs. Dalton with a copy of his
warrant for her apprehension, which he read.
It charged her with attempted murder in two in-
stances. Firstly, that she did, with malice aforethought,
administer to one Graham Carson, a powerful drug
that produced insensibility, and that while in that
state ne naa men thrown down a trap in her house
that was over the river Garoopna ; and in the second
place that she wilfully set fire to a certain tenement
or dwelling house in Davidsces-cksse, Edinburgh,
being there and then ir..Labited, with the purnose of
lestroyins, life.
All of which, sot forth in technical phraseology, Airs.
Dalton listened to with a set, unmoved face till it was

finished.
"What need of reading all that rigmarole r she
cried, passionately. "when so many know the truth?
the game is over now ; there is no occasion to look back
at the cards and see how it might have been better
played. But you have not given me my right name.
I was Angela Delphini once. None of you here know
me except one. Ah ! here he is!" she continued, as
Lawyer Carson stepped forward, and she pointed at
him with her finger. "Good Mr. Carson! He can
tell you—no one better—what I was. His old
master's toy and plaything while the whim lasted, till
I was turned away to die like a dog for all he cared.
I swore to have my revenge, and waited for the
chance. It came at last, though lam baulked of my
full measure. There stands my grand-daughter, Ursula
Rhodes, the daughter of my daughter, whose father
was the master of this house, a truer Atherstone in
all thin the girl whose place she has filled. Ha, ha !
but how we have laughed together at the fools who
recognised her."
All who were in the room shrank back, shuddering
at her evil face and the vehemence with which she
spoke. Th re was a wild, unearthly, savage gleam in
her eyes, too, and the officer who had arrested her
tightened his cram of her arm involuntarily.

once."
"Can't do that, sir," said the speaker, respectfully.
"We musn't lose sight of her now."
"You need not," answered the rector. " But
there is no fear of her eluding you. She has given
was' under the shock, and ought to be attended

to."
"It is more mental than bodily," remarked Dr.
Twist, who had been looking carefully at her as they
raised her from the floor. "I doubt whether she will
ever be fit to plead."
"Madness is heaven's mercy in some cases," the
rector said, as they bore her away, and then turned to
the motionless figure beside the dressing table, whose
face had not betrayed one single emotion at what had
passed.
The detective approached her with his warrant,
but she waved him off in a superbly contemptuous
manner.
"As she told you before, there is no occasion to
read out any accusation against me," she said, icily.
"I am ready to confess everything that is required.
Let me go, Lillian. You will not want to stand by
me when you have heard all."
But Lillian would not stir.
"I said I would stand by you till death, if need be,"
she exclaimed, resolutely, winding her arms still closer
round the slight figure in its tridal array. "And I
ss ill keep my word, come what may."
Ursula, for we may as well give her true name now,
looked at the girl with a sad smile.
"You are truer than I deserve," she said, quietly.
"But let it be so,if the consciousness of what a lost,
unhappy wretch you-have taken into your pure beart
for a friend does not kill your love outright with
horror."
She looked round, cautiously—fearfully at first, as
though dreading to meet one face; but it was not
there. Noel Atherstone had heard all the dread story
the first thing that morning, and was lying now up
at the Rectory, mercifully oblivious to all that was
taking place.
Lillian guessed what the wandering glance was di-
rected in search of.
"He is not here," she whispered.
"Better so," returned the other, in the same low
tone, and then facing the other again. "I am de-
taining you unnecess wily, lam afraid," she continued,
with an affectation of courtesy, as though she was ad-
dressing guests on some ordinary matter. "I will not
do so much longer, believe me; nor shall I give you
much trouble. My name is not Beryl Atherstone—
but Ursula Rhodes. She lies at the bottom of the
ocean, sent there by my hands.
N A thrill of horror passed over her hearers, and
Lillian, uttering a faint shriek, recoiled a pace or
two.
"Ay ! " bitterly exclaimed Ursula. "I told
you you would not stay beside me much longer. To
continue, gentlemen, I murdered Beryl Atherstone—
plain language is the best. Murdered her, and came
here in her place. How my deception was aided by
my likeness to the family, you may guess—it's no use
now going into a long story."
"There is another count against you," broke in the
rector, gravely. "The boy—he has recovered,
and—"
"Told how he knew the trick which had been
p'ayed —followed me to England, and, with one of his
vile companions, held the threat of betrayal over my
head for the sake of obtaining money to purchase his
silence, till I was driven to another crime to hide ray
first? Yes, I acknowledge that, too. It was my hand
that struck him down. If I had known, or dreamt,
a spark of life remained, I would have crushed it out
then and there. Ay! shrink further from me—further
yet,' she said, for Lily was locking at her with wild,
frightened eyes, at the horrible story. "I deserve
it.'
Here the officer, who had been striving in vain to
obtain a hearing, struck in roughly, but not unkindly,
and advised her to say no more.
"I warned you, you know, that it would all be used
against you," he said. "Better be quiet."
But she never turned her head towards him as she
kept monotonously on, and explained all she knew of
Mr. Carson's attempted murder, which had been com-
passed that he might not appear in England to con-
found her.
"As it is—for the sake of one who has been kind
to me—l am glad that you are safe, Mr. Carson," she
said. "And now I think I have told you all there is
to tell."
"Yes. You had better not say anything more—in-
deed, you hadn't,' urged the officer, his professional
instincts rather shocked by what was going on.
"One moment," said Ursula, passing her hand over
her forehead, as though to collect her wandering
thoughts. " I—l hav'nt quite finished. I did not tell
you how Beryl Atherstone's death was brought about,
I think. Ah ! it was easily done. She was a poor,
dull thing, Mr. Atherstone, and would not have done
the honours of the Grange as I should. She would
have married an actor, you know, and all the old blood
would have disappeared then. As it was, I thought
to do the name more honour. Dr. Twist there can tell
you the rest—he helped to bury her, thinking she—
that is—l—" and she laughed a little hollow, ghastly
laugh, had taken an overdose of laudanum. It was
nothing of the sort—but—one of these," and before
anyone could stop her, her little white-gloved hand
had gone to her mouth with a quick gesture.

CHAPTER LVI.
YOUNG, AND SO FAIR!
•
Ab, sweet, and we, too, can we bring
One sigh back, bid one smile revive?
Can God restore one ruined thing,
Or lie, who slays our souls alive,
Make dead things thrive.--wiNnunwr.
LEWIS the detective, sprung forward with a half-
uttered oath, but trio late to arrest the movement, and
she smiled contemptuously at his gesture of impotent

rage.
"You were not quite quick enough, my friend,"
she said calmly. "Here are the remainder," and she
handed him the little golden box which she had held so
long, and seemed to contain nothing m pre harmful
than bon-bons "To anyone who is weary of his life
they would be a rich boon. Ah ! you can let me go
safely now. All the strength of the law in this land
could not touch me where lam going—to meet with
swifter—sharper justice, maybe," and she staggered a
little, and swayed to and fro, with her arms stretched
out before her. "I am beyond their reach now,

Lily."
And Lilian rushed to her side once more.
"You said till death, Lily," faintly continued the
dying girl. "It is very near. Will you keep your
word now ?"
"Yes. lam with you. I will not leave you."
They carried her into the next room and placed her
on a couch, her bright hair all tangled and wet with
the eiva-ip of death; her blue eyes, that had looked se
'rinoepet. dim, and half-closed.
"WI o'd have thought of her carrying sucn thing
abcut ler the very :morning she was going to be mar.
ried ? ' complained Mr. Lewis of his subordinate. "1
was afraid of her ffom the first. These quiet onei
are so determined when they do get driven ihto t
corner."
"Any way," returned the other glumly; " for all th
good we can lo we might as well go. She's slippet
through our fingers this time, sure enough."
Truly had Ursula Rhodes boasted that no earthly lawa
could claim her now. Self destruction—barring tilt
uncivilised rites that can dorm harm to the senselest
clay—is beyond the reach of human punishment, arid
Ursula Rhodes was fast speeding to a higher tribunal,
there to answer for her sins.
Tidings of this new catastr.ophe soon spread through.
out the house, sending the frightened domestics ons-r
more in a flock to the door of the room. But Mr. Ather.
stone would allow no one to enter except his wife and
the housekeeper, who, together with Lily, for they cou,d
not persuade her to leave, ministered to the dying girl
with as much tenderness and loving care as though
she had never sinned against them.
- • •

For Death is all supreme, and that this was Death
there could be no doubt; even the pplice officers con-
fessed as much by leaving the room which it was use-
less for them now to watch. A mightier power than
that of man was on their prison, r —the sun which had
risen with such bright promise on her wedding morn
would set at night upon her lifeless corpse.
Noel was sent for—and came, looking almost as
near to dea h as she who was to have been his bride,
as though the brief hours of that fateful day had each
stamped years of mortal anguish on his brow. Came
to bend over the crushed, sin-laden body of her he ha,'
hoped to spend long years of happiness with, and
whisper soft, grief-stricken words of forgiveness in that
dread hour of darkness and of horror which came upon
her when she found herself face to face with an
irrevocable eternity.
The sorrowful group around her couch made way
for him as he approached—for was not his the greatest
right to be here? and his lace was the first that the
dying girl's eyes rested on when she roused out of her
stupor.
see! she is looking at you—trying to speak, Noel,"
whispered his sister in awe-struck tomes.
And so she was—with a yearning, pleading expres-
sion in those eyes that never looked more lovely, more
lustrous, in the full blaze of their beauty—and groping
with her feeb'e hands, from which they had wit hdrawn
the gloves, to meet his once more aS she had so often
done.
He let her take them. At such a moment there
was no room for anyrfeeling but compassion —he could
not turn from her now, sint ul as she was, though his
heart was wrung with such pitiab'e anguish as kills
the life of the strongest man, and adds whole years to
his age in one short hour.
" You—you will forgive me, Noel ?" she gasped, look-
ing up at him with eager pleading. "Will you not?"
I have been very wicked but I I loved you
dearly."
Ah what would he not have done at that moment
to show bar that the prayer was granted?