The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-03-13
GUILDEROY
II
Author of ''Under Two Flags" 1.-TWO Lit
tie Wooden Shoes" "Chandos,"
"Don Gesualdo," Etc.
JNow arsspubl.hed. All rights reserved
CHAPTER LVu.


4 few nights after Aubrey walked home
from Westminster after tedious debate
a weary waste of breath and speech serv-
ing no purpose but to bewilder brains
already dull enough and deafen a country
already only too obtuse. He was fatigued,
and was glad to breathe even the close air
OF London streets after those many hours
OF suffocating and useless verbiage.
His thoughts went, as they ever did in
his lonely moments, to Gladys. Was she
sleeping and dreaming, forgetful OF her
sorrows? Or was she sleepless and dream
less in that little chamber under the apple
boughs, within the sound of the sea 4?
When he entered the great gates of Bal
irons house il was almost daybreak; he
went TO his writing-rOom as usual TO
glance at any letters or dispatches which
might have come during the evening.
There were several; but prominent to his
eyes amongst them was a large envelope
bearing the post mark of Paris and adj
dressed to him by Guilderoy
''The only woman whom 1 love has dis
missed me" said this strange message.
81 am free. with such poor freedom as
can be enjoyed by one who will forever
drag behind him the weight of an un-
changeable regret. / shall never love the
innocent woman whom 1 have married
but will, if she accepts such reparation,
do my duty by her.
i cannot, | dare not promise more. l
have been false, often involuntarily, to all
my past promises save one hitherto; but
TO this promise, which now offer. will
be faithful, if her indulgence is extended
20 me and her affections can be satisfied
with respect. I send my letter to her
through you, first, because know that
you have more influence over her than
any one; and in the second place, because
owe you amends tor the insult
and the suspicion l passed upon you. I
can give you no better proof of my con-
Viction that both were undeserved by you
than by sending through you this offer OF
my future to her | trust to your loyalty
and your honor in confiding such a mis-
sion to them, and can think of no better
way to prove to you that l am confident
you are her best friend and my most faith
ful adviser. You nsed harsh and bitter
words to me when we last met; but they
" ere such as | esteem you for, and il Sc
we're they were deserved. | have had too
much vanity and too much success in life
Rnd In love; / have, in both, now received
the most humiiating and most indelible
rebuff. | have failed to retain the heart
and to satisfy the imagination of the
woman for whom l have felt a lasting or
an unselfish passion. For my suffering
YOU will care nothing, and YOU viii say
that IN bringing crippled and mortified
heart to my wife | shall but offend
her further. Ii NAV be so, and if
she thinks so I shall not protest against
her decision. But, again, you have said
that she loves me still, and women who
love content themselves with little. The
immensity OF their tenderness is wide
enough to cover all shortcomings, and
they are happy ii they can heal any
wounds, even if those wounds have been
made by other women | do not know
that she has this tenderness to me; she
has always TO me seemed very cold. But
You have said that she has it, and has it
for me. Be this as it may, she is proud
she NAV prefer to silence the tongues OF
the world by a reunion which shall be as
real, or merely as apparent, as she pleases.
There has been no publicity such as
would make such reunion impossible, and
the world, If we resume our former life,
viii soon forget that we have been sep
arated At al events have thought that
duty and honor, however tardily obeyed,
lead me to offer my future to her. She
can do with it what she pleases"
Aubrey flung the letter on the floor in
passionate anger. Its sincerity he did not
doubt but the mission it placed on him
was loathsOme.
Can he not 90 back to her without my
intervention? ?" he thought bitterly. "Must
he needs call on me TO reioin his broken
tles2 Could he find no other messenger?
Gould he not write TO her direct by ordi-
nary means2 What title has he to put
such burden upon me? What right, in
heavens name, to bid me carry his soul
20 her and beseech her 10 wash it white ?"
He knew that Guilderoy had written to
him in all honesty and well-meaning, in
tending to make reparation for his suspi-
ciOns by an act of perfect and even chival-
rOus confidence. He did justice to the mo-
tives which had dictated the letter, but he
cursed the writer for his cruelty and for
the task which it laid upon him. For
awhile be was tempted to reject ito
send It back with its inclosure, and saw:
4 cannot be your ambassador. She is
YOURS; 90 10 her without preface" Thrice
ne wrote those lines, or lines similar 10
them; and then tore them up, dissatisfied
with them as cowardice and selfshness.
If he loved her, as be did, should he lose
any occasion of opening the gates of hap
piness 10 her? He knew that she was
proud and unforgiving; that she deemed
herself bound in self-respect to adhere to
her choice OF a lonely and sef-sufficing
life; he knew that Guilderoy. going TO her
simply because the woman whom he loved
had dismissed him, would almost surely
be dismissed by her with scorn and even
with hatred
Was not he, who knew this, bound to
do his uttermost 10 stand between her
and what would be TO her a lifelong sever
snce from one whom she loved To en-
plOy such means as he possessed of sway
ing her mind and persuading her charac-
ter to bend to that forgiveness without
which she would be eternally wretched?
To do for her in this moment OF her life
what her father would certainly have
done had he been living now?
He vas obliged in no way, indeed, to
serve her or his cousin be could let their
lives drift apart as they might, and would
have no need to blame himself or fear the
blame of others. But that cold neutral