, 1898-12-09
By Marion v HolAis'IE@

Viii tIitillbi L 1 hebiiE ~ ~ VI
the young brother, who had died like a
hero: of the kind, generous father who
had never uttered an angry word: of the
''old home" as il stood uncovered with
trees. Her heart went back to those child
ish. happy days. so different from the
dreary present. Then the waltz ended,
and the dancers sought, the cool, lighted
grounds. She was only disturbed from
her reyerie by the rustic of a womans
dress, and the sound of a mans voice,
speaking in a subdued tone. Raising her
head, she saw that on the other side OF
the orange tree there was a garden char
on 1t sat her husband and Beatrice
Leigh,
"You will still be one of us" Lord Wv
Ian was saying, although you are going
from us. l shall miss you sorely, Bea-
trice."
mot as ] shall miss you," she cried,
p~assionately; II am nothing to you, while
ou-yo are"
"What?" he asked, for the words had
died upon her false lips.
"You are everything TO me- she said,
'When I LEAVE your roof, l leave my
world behind me.V
Do him justice. He never dreamed OF
the guilty love that had mastered her
He a Selwyn, of Selwyn Castle-the de-
scendant of stainless women and brave
men"-could not even imagine a woman
capable of seeking to undermine MS
faith, He believed that she was speak
ing of the calm brotherly and sisterly af-
fectipn that he thought had always exist
ed between them.
sPoor Beatrice" he said, taking the
white hand In his. 81 am sorry you must
co."
He did not see the suppressed passion
in her face-the eager light of her eyes
as, bent upon mischief, she continued:
81 wish-forgiye me II l speak too free
ly-I wish that | left you happier, WV
ian. The world begins to talk of you as
a disappointed man."
He sighed deeply, and that sigh fell like
q death-knell on the young wife's heart.
whether my life is made or married"
he said ~gravely, II am responsible for
my own fate"
at might all have been SO different"
continued Beatrice. "Ah, Vivian, your
marriage ought to have crowned your
life"
"As l have sown, ] must reap" he said
after a silence of some minutes. ID not
talk to me of this, Beatrice. If there has
been a mistake, 1t has been mine, and
mine alone"
Then came some half-murmured words
from Miss Leigh. Lady Volante could
not hear them, but her husbands reply
.was perfectly audfpie.
II do thank you, Beatrice, for your
kindness to her; poor child, she suffers
for my mistake"
Lower still dropped the golden head
lower, until it rested on the smooth stem
of the orange tree. She clasped her hands
before her face, lest, in the madness OF
her despair, she should be tempted to cry
put. She bit her lips, she clinched her
slender hands until her rings made great
indentations In them-anything rather
than cry aloud
This is my real good-by," said Bea-
trice Leigh. Il do not suppose | shall
see you again alone, Vivian"
The bright moonshine showed him the
tears in her dark eyes, as she raised her
beautiful face to his; and the love in 1t
was so great, the sorrow so real, that he
bent his head and kissed her forehead, as
her own brother might have done. Re-
member, they had been brought up as
children of one mother for many years.
"Good-by, Beatrice" he said. Heaven
bless you for your love to me, and your
kindness to my wife"
But those words, which must have open
ed her eyes to her folly, were unheard by
Lady Violante. Through the silver leaves
she had seen that kiss. She judged her
husband not by her reason, but by her
jealousy, and the sight drove her mad.
They rose from the garden seat and
walked away. She crouched lower amid
the orange trees and prayed her old pray
er:
"Oh, that l were dead and he were
free!"
Then she rose, and trampling the sweet
almond blossoms under her feet, walked
quietly back to the house. The music
came in sweet, soft gushes of sound from
the ballroom, where Beatrice Leigh, in
her imperial beauty and Circean grace,
was queen. Quietly and slowly the mis-
tress of the house walked through the
silent rooms, where no guests fingered, up
TO her own room. Who would have rec
ognized in the pale, wearied. heart-broken
woman, the fresh, dimpled beauty of Vic
lante Temple?