Vermont farmer. [volume] (Newport, Orleans County, Vt.) 1870-1877, 1875-01-01

Sandon looked, or Is the world, perhaps. not
grown little old for us to expect any reflec-
ton OF the age Of gold in the nineteenth CEN
turyP Alasl we have most of us cur Meme
sis somewhere not afar of, ready TO over
take us Tor our great or our little sins, and
Miss Sandon's Nemesis was at this very mo-
ment coming nearer and nearer.
CHAPTER n.--MIss sANDoN's NEMESIS.
1t was nightfall, and the dancing had be-
gun. Fortunately the ovoningiwas calm and
dry, and on the warm air arose the delicious
fragrance which wood of beecl.treos piyes
forth at nighttime. Sir Philip Sandon had
found medieval precedent for stretching
broad canvas roof, by means of cords and
pulleys, high over tho dancers heads to
keep OIL the evening dews; but this seryice
was already accomplished by the hlgh-poised
strata of gray clouds, through the openings
OF which the full moon only showed from
time to time. A hundred saucer.shaped
iron sconces, filled with some flaming resin
Gus compound and held aloft on tail poles.
surrounded the sylvan ballroom, and cast n
strong red light, which made the leafy recess
ses OF the wood all around seem doubly OBJ
scure.
Sir Philip Sandon had quite failed in in.
ducing the band to learn the old Provencal
music, and Lady Sandon herself had opposed
his suggestion that her guests should make
themselves acquainted with the dances of
the time and country of the Troubadors-
with the JdrdndolC where wide circle was
formed by the dancers with joined hands. or
The torch dance, wild cortilion where
each dancer held in his hand lighted brand.
So the ball was after all but II conan onplace
one, only that as the ballroom never got too
dusty, seeing that IFS walls were the fresh,
odorous branches of trees, the ball was an
exceptionally delightful one. Between the
dances the guests walked to and fro on the
messy turf beyond the flooring, just within
the circle of light given by the torches; and
beyond this outer precinct, half hidden by
the trees, some dozens of Sir Philip Sandon's
servants and tenants had gathered to watch
the dancing.
Lord Vereker had hardly left the side of
Miss Sandon during the evening, and they
were now pacing slowly backward and for
ward on tho grass, talking eagerly to each
other in low tones. 1t was easy to guess
from his looks and from her answering ones
how prosperous were their loves.
AS they passed by one group of country
spectators Miss Sandon heard her name
spoken. She stopped
"Please, Miss Sandon, may | speak to
youP" 1t was Il child's voice that spoke.
"What is q" She knew the voice TO he |
that of the keepers child, and tho boy. en-. |
couraged by the friendly tone, came out of |
The darkness, holding something in his out. |
stretched hand-a letter. Miss Sandon took |
It, opened it, and read it.
"Eugena, am waiting for you Mt the tree
where we used to meet. You must come. |
md como alone. | shall not wait long. |
shall be watching you from the darkness
while you read this. Take care that you do
not provoke desperate man to desperate
,ourse.n
She read the letter, and when she looked
Up into her lovers face the world was
hanged for her. She was like person
awakened from pleasant dream; like one
from the tumult of ~ feast to the
ilence of II torture chamber The sweet
'ision oil the present was dssipated and the
horrors OF the past, which she had thought
lead, were revived.
She was taken with a mortal dread: her
'ody shook, and her gloved right hand that
lad held the letter trembled, lying on her
overs arm. She clasped the other hand on
to help herself to stand, so faint did the
hook make her feel. She looked up into
lis face for comforts
"What is it. FtfeeniaH' he asked.
She could not answer for n time.
arthur" she said presently, do you qUlte
'olieve in me?"
He looked round to see that no one was
lear.
"Quite, he said. smiling, and he laid his
and on her clasped ones.
"Do you remember what once told you
bout--P"
about Stephen Goodlakc?n
81 am glad told you that"
"Why?"
F." lie is here now"
"NVhere?"
" Within few yards of us Mt this moment
perhaps watching u.s. she said in low )
dice, and she held herself closer to him.
Lord Verekor looked grave. "What does
@ wantP" II
"To see me- With fingers that would d
'arcely obey her she opened out the letter
he had crumpled in her hand; she ilattened t
out on his wrist
Read it" she said looking with anxious J
res into his face.
No." he said placing his own hand to !
over the open letter; A." | do not wish to-"
A curious feeling came to her. Lord Yer
icr was everything in the world to her ?
nc would die gladly rather than lose the ?
asst particle of the great love she knew he
I'd for her; and yet in this extremity of o
RS she could not refrain from comparing
C Stephen Goodlake of tho past, the man
no had once sworn he loved her better u
an any woman in the world, and to whom
long MS his image had faded from her st
oughts-she believed she had fora short
omcnt gwen some little share of her girlish O
art; she compared him with Lord Vereker.
ID, looking mt him, she wished he had been W
man that she could better have coniided in. II
10 knew that Stephen Goodlake was treat u
g her badly; she knew that his letter was u
threatening letter; she knew that he trust u
to the strength and vehemence of his
aracter to force her to his will. There was
netting that was terrible to her in his mere n
70 and physical strength, and she wished CO
G could have looked to Lord Vereker as e
ono in whose protection sho could foel
lite secure, whose superior moral strength II
1uld encompass and support and make e
lends for her own feobleness, to whom
@ could have intrustod her fears and freely to
mltted her past weakness, and her present y
ength ia her love and truth TO him. She
mid have snil 10 hnr lnvnr .aThis | u