The record-union., 1892-03-12

Lisla, that you have sought my advice.
but, really, this is a subject entirely be-
yond me. Marriage with slight smile)
is an affair Of the heart, is it not? Have
you no lady friend who would counsel
you in this matter?''
She bowed her head, and the big tears
slowly dropped on to her ungloved hands.
1t was so disappointing to expect friend
and to find a stone.
II thought she gasped neryously,
that Catholic priests always helped
about such things.''
Catholic priests help Catholics" he
corrected gently, ''but outsiders-that is
very different thing"
The slight emphasis on the word out
slders was meant to draw. He felt he won
or lost her to bis faith that night.
/ But Lady Lisla had only developed in
parts; she had grown nationally, but not
| spiritually; she felt in no need of a creed;
she wanted q human friend. She stood
silent; there was disappointment in her
nears; there was disappointment also III
i his.
Il should Think he said at length in
even, measured tones, ''all you have TO
90 Is to question your own heart. II you
love him, take him; if you don't, leave
| him alonen
| And that was the end of all her fine
theories about ranscendentalism, the
improvement of the human species, the
survival of the fittest, the widening of
women's sphere-all to end in the mere
| vulgar solution of love.
! Her editice crumbled about her ears,
and mental stupor was the immediate re-
| suit. She felt poWerleSS to speak. All
| the pointed sentences she had so carefully
rehearsed, the neat refutations TO what
she imagined would be in his line of argu-
ment tfor she had a vague idea that men
OF whatever sect advocated matrimony
! generally, all completely vanished from
her mind. She had nothing to say, and
she did not know what to do. She was
weary, body and mind, and was only
conscious of a wild desire for some one to
take hel future in their own hands and
do with it what they would.
! Her disconsolate attitude perhaps
! touched him, for his voice had kinder
! tone in it as he said:
Il am afraid L have been of no help,
Lady Lisla. Tell me, what do you want
to do?''
! Her tears flowed faster from sheer dis
appointment. She felt like silly school
| girl.
"I want you to decide for me-" she said
| IN low voice.
Almost look of contempt passed over
! the strong, masterful face as he quietly
| asked:
SIS the gentleman suitable in age, posi-
ton and birth ?''
! "Yesn
HE is rich"
'tYes."
"a good reputation?u
! The full red lips curled.
| 'As good as his fellows"
Tie questioner hesitated a moment.
! YOu care for him ?"
all.
! He hesitated again.
"G on care for no one else? ?"
Two soft shy eyes We're raised to his,
then the eyelids hid their beauty. There
was silence deep as the grave, broken by
! Father st. Aubyn at length.
'As you have asked me-" he began, alb
! stractedly, Il should say marry, by all
means You will probably be happier.
and feel life more full. After all, employ
| ment Is what we each require, whether
rich or poor: the thing is to find employ
! ment OF congenial kind. les, marry
his manner getting more authoritative:
1T IS the best thing for you."
81 will, - came from her lips almost as
a vow, and then she took her leave.
''She is lost to u.s." was Father st.
| Aubyn's comment as he courteously put
] her into hansom, but at least | did nv
duty. What weak fools most women are:
it is not creed they want, it is gush.''
and with a satirical smile he went in
doors.
| So there was grand wedding, and the
! society papers were full OF the beauty Of
! the bride and the wealth of the bride
! groom. Father st. Aubyn was invited to
| the breakfast, but was unexpectedly
! called out of town,
a prolonged honeymoon was succeeded
! by round of visits, and then the newly
married pair settled down in Eaton
! Square.
! Dinner succeeded dinner, fete followed
tete, people shook their heads, and said
''Such extravaganza could not last. Had
Lady Lisla lost her head ?''
She spoke no more at public meetings,
she headed no longer public charities,
/ she read no more rational books; her
character seemed changed wholly and
entirely. She lived only for present en-
! joyment, and cared not what she did, so
long as she drowned thought. Father st.
Aubyn she sometimes saw. but her set
was not his set now. Her husband she
openly scorned and treated with undis-
| guised contempt.
| At last the crisis came covert sneer,
1