The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-01-30
dUILDEROY
4tOUIDE4% 4t X
Author of "Under Two Flags" 1.-TWO Lit
tie Wooden Shoes" "Chandos,"
'Don Gesualdo," Etc.
Nov ar.t published. All rights rs.srrod.l
CHAPTER XLIH.

Gladys. enwrapped in her black sables,
stayed on deck insensible to the cold. She
was conscious of the febrile excitement
within her, and of that mOmentary solaee
which Is always found in any physical
movement which relieves or distracts
great anxiety.
She went straight to Paris, and de-
scended at a hotel instead OF at the
house which Guilderoy rented in the
avenue de Bois de BOulogne, and
which was then shut up and left in
charge of the suisse. She did not wish
her movements to be known to anyone.
She inquired at the English embassy where
Lord Guilderoy was. With some surprise
and, she thought, some embarrassment,
his friends there told her that they be-
lieved he was in Venice still; they had
heard no change OF address from him.
She left them to think or conclude what
they chose. and went to Venice as Aubrey
had done before her. At his palace, where
they received her with obseQuious defer
ence. she heard that he had left there
three weeks before, but where he was
they could not say; he had left no addro-s.
She perceived that it was an excuse,
iaisehood, but they were at least loyal to
the instructions they had received; she
did not try TO bribe them into disobedi-
ence. which could easily have been done.
She paused for few DAYS at the house,
which was always kept in perfect readi
ness foT his arrival She thought it prob
able that he might return.
II was cold in Venice, but il did not
seem 80 to her after the north winds
which had been sweeping over the woods
and moors OF LadvsroOd when she had
ieit it. The sun was radient; the green
ranals still basked in light, the silvery
lagoons bore the little islands on their
breasts, the Istrian brigs were unloading
their loads Of wood in the Giudecca, the
Greek traders were landing their various
CaTgoes at the custom-house, the many
colored feet Of little fishing vessels
anchored of the Canareggio and the
Botanic gardens; the scene was always
charming, various, gay-a panorama OF
moving, noiseless, deiicately-tinted life.
She acknowledged its charm but it
made her heart almost heavier than it
had been under the wintry shadows and
dusky mists of Ladysrood. As she let
the gondOliers take her over the water
and thread their way with unerrir J accu-
racy through the crowded craft of the
Canale d'Oriano, she lived again every
moment of the first weeks she had spent
IN Venice. All that passion spent on
them seemed to her like a dream-some
remembered poem that could have noth-
ing in common with her own lie. Wo-
man can never habituate herself to the
early and abrupt cessation of all loves
instincts and caresses. which to the man
seems so natural and so inevitable With
her that fairy story should be told with
the same ardOr every recUrrent year; 10
him it is as dead as last years leaves.
At times, as she drifted through the sill
very wintery air, she blamed herself, re-
calling every word of counsel which her
father and Aubrey had addressed to her.
She had been unwise, she knew, 10
speak as she had last spoken 10 her hus-
band. She had been unwise 10 reject his
proposal u travel with her into distant
lands; she had done wrong to repulse so
coidlv that share in her sorrow which he
had offered her with sincere and delicate
sympathy. All this she knew, But the
~ision Of his other passions had stood be-
tween him and herself, and there was now
forever sounding in her ear the avowal OF
his love for Beatrice Soria.
That one bitter and restless remem-
brance haunted her, and would not let
her stay in peace amongst the gliding
waters and stiffness of Venice. She did
not know where he might be. She could
not write to inquire of mere strangers.
She had the whole of Italian journals
which were sold at the news-stalls bought
and brought TO her. He was so well
known in Italy that she thought his move
ments would be observed and chronicled,
however much he might try to guard
against Il.
For several days she saw nothing; on
the ninth day she read in one of the
sheets a little line announcing that he
was still in Naples. She knew from the
Venetians that he had left them some
twenty days before. II seemed to her
clear as the golden moon rising above the
Euganean mountains that he was with
her rival.
The voice of her father seemed to say
10 her from his grave, DO not 90 thither;
do not try 10 compel fate"
~lt mao Qtlt All LildJ sue COulu uO 10
keep of the inquisitiveness OF society she
had done more than many would have
done 10 offer a serene and harmonious
surface-existence 10 the stare of curiosity
and maignitv. But, beneath all that, the
aching heart Of her youth was angered
ard seething like a sea in storm under all
her apparent and enforced composure the
blindest and maddest of all the passions
jealousy, was tearing her soul asunder.
II have a right at least TO know" she
told herself thousand times, lying awake
in what had been her nuptial chamber,
listening TO the tapping OF the water, on
the marble stairs below, all the long
night through, until the sound of the can
non fired at sunrise in the Giudecca told
her that another dreary, empty, anxious,
5esolate day had come.
Il have q right 70 know" she thought,
and. allowing Aubrey's letter to be unan-
s.rered. she left the Venetian sea-Inists
and waterways, and went, also, south
yard through the amber sunrays and the
-o-eate lights of a luminous winters day
Spreading with noontide golden and glori-
ous over the la0oons and the meadows of
The Brenta.
CHAPTER Xiv.
II was now the close OF November. Bea-
trice Soria was at the great palace of the
Soria, fronting the sea, where she still ruled