The New Orleans crescent., 1868-09-06

resiive on the score Of proprety, and insisted on
Dragging poor, meek Lady Pole with her to the
evening Illumination Of St. Peters.
Mr.. Fernham bad been out all day. no one
knew where. he came in before they started,
one side. : = 80 - = . :.
Settle It with my lord to night Lucy"
be spoke in such strange tone that she looked
up at him, and started at the dead wilderness of his
You are ii " she said. al viii not go out"
Il never was nj in my life. Don't you take fan
cles, Lucy, but go, and come back to me-that Is,
elect.n ~
But Lucy was both tired and excited. and 10 no
pooo 10 take any notice OF my lords efforts to
draw ner into confidential dialogue. There was,
or sne thought there was, something Oppressive
N tne ar and she will never again think Of that
oroao temple OF hre against the staress sky with
out the shndder of a nameess terror creeping
over ner. she was haunted all the time by the
strange white face that had looked down at her
ana laughed. and she was glad when Lady Pole
wards.
Lucy did not know what she was afraid of, but
me was AFRAID: When she had said goodnight 20
Lazy Pole. and seen her walk away with my lord,
she stopped moment to still the unusual beating
OF her heart, and to tell herself that il was the
heat, and the fatigue and excitement Of the day.
ihen sne went INTO her own room to take of her
bonnet; and from thence to the drawing room
No one was there. A small pan of Goals smould.
cred on tripod on one table for Mr.. Fernham
was chilly In spite of the warm weather. A taper
still burnt upon smaller table; and there was
smell OF sealing in the room. Going up TO this
latter table. she saw neat pile of papers tied
together and labelled; and near them note ad.
dressed TO herself, in her uncle's hand.
my Dear Lucy-Ibave been a consistent man
all my life. When took you from your aunt
nj q N laova oil ha1 - A..
is-noihing.
There ia only enough to pay my debts. have
had money. and have used ito purchase every
good thing which the world could sell. | saw you
when MY popularity was . -iittls failing; and
adopted you, as the phrase is, for three reasons.
/ should thereby regain importance, experience a
novel sensation, and make good match for my
niece. II | have not done this last, it has been
your fault, not mine. And my money is gone. |
thought it would have lasted longer but 1t il gone
have always determined that when life could no
more give me the full measure 10 which am &C.
customed, would know no meaner portion. |
would cease 10 be. II you have neglected your
chances with Lord Charles, aud will uly thrown
him over, cannot help it. | have still done you
no harm. And in that case go back TO your
mothers sister; you are no worse of than the girl
whom took away, and TO whom have gwen at
least one brilliant year in her life. Goodbye. |
am about TO lock myself into my room. You need
take no steps. ! have borne about with me for
years the means of a death, painless luxu.
riOus-aDd certain.
Your uncle now-when Won read this no
one!"
In the morning, all Rome was talking about the
Piazza di Spagns, and the English miOrd who was
rich and yet not rich; who had destroyed himself
And in fortnight's time. before Lucy hal recov-
cred from the shock of the most terrible thiog
thst bad ever happened to her, there lay on her
table three of the thinnest possible bits Of paste
board, with "P. P. C.r scrawled at the bottom
of each. Out of the four faithful and devoted
Iuhf N FRI oil had aoEa al
sion 10 see her, and. offer her his clumsy
sympathy and bis goodbye in person. And day
after day in sore bitterness and desoatOn there
came up in Lucy's heart the thought that surely
archer Denison would write or come to her before
she left Rome.
But Archer was at the Cafe Greco, absorbed in
bis studies; and if fragments of the nine days
wonder reached him be caught no names, and
took no notice. When he did hear what had hap
pened ii was too late.
CHATTER uI.-wHERE THE WAVE BREAKS Widest.
On Gwyneth's Head, cold. desolate and beauti-
full; dark mass with granite face on its sum-
NIT; The lines sharp cut; the stone lips CON.
pressed with sort of strain upon them; the
whole face bent forward in an attitude of watch.
ing. And the autumn wind was freshing; the
waves lashing themselves up before il, dull yellow
on The coast, green and olive green farther out
Many boat bad been stove in many fisherman
had gone TO his long home here, under the calm
It's watching. The old people who had lived in
the little town before it grew into the quiet ars-
tocrahc watering place, told the story Of the
granite face with unquestionng faith. IL was
Gwyneth, fisherman's wife, who had gone out
to watch through the stormy night for her hus-
bands boat, and had never come back again. but
watched there forever, turned TO stone by the
sight of the broken boat on the rocks below.
In these later days little lsntern-shaped tur-
ret stood on Gwyneth's Head; and when the
warning lights shOne out at night, the lowest Of
them just touched the stone face here and there
Ike the white lights of painter.
They were lighted now though II was daylight
and they could do but little good. And below The
rock, close 10 the pier, crowd had gathered-s
silent crowd, almost immovable, except for the
glasses that we're passed from hand to hand and
IN; occasional half smothered exclamation. This
crowd was watching the steamer from L -; aud
apart from 1t, on a seat sheltered a little by
the Cliff, there were two ladies watching also. The
vessel had been at first only dark spot upon the
waves, but she was fighting her way nearer, The
men on the pier said that she was nearer Ger.
taiDly; that there was chance for her. II she
could only make out the lights on Gwyneth's
Head, and keep clear OF the rocks, there was |
chance for her but how she rolled and pitched!
and what madness to start in the teeth Of such
foul.weatber signs
a. am glad there's no one belonging 10 me 10
that vessel, }" said the elder of the two ladies' on
the seat. Have you had enough of it, Lucy?n
Lucy Fernham turned her eyes for one moment
g Do you want to go home, Aunt Rachel?"
Why" said the old lady drily. Its not the |
very gentest breeze in the world my dearu
At this juncture some one offered Lucy a glass |
which she took eagerly.
There seems TO be good many on board" |
said the owner Of this, steadyng it for her. lone
may almost distinguish faces"
So one may. Lucy. giving back the glass, said |
to her companion, quietly
p" There is some one belonging to you there. |
Let us stay, Aunt Rachel"
The old lady looked at her nece, and refraned |
from questioning. Lucy vas odd-the result |
probably of that shock in Italy from which she |
had never recovered. |
As for Lucy, when the glass was once more
offered to her, she did not even see it. She saw |
DO bing outwardly but the waves that leaped up |
on Gwyneth's Head, and fell back in spray into |
the boiling caldron beneath and mixed up with |
this. ike confused dream, there came the MAY. |
day In Kent; the meeting on the sands at Red |
held, when she sent him away the vast kneeling |
crowd in the piazza outside ST. Peters and a |