Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1899-09-14
CHAPTER XIII.
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The six months Of waiting passed as
time does for all, and then they were
married. and it seemed that the marriage
was universally approved; no one had a
word to say against it except Elsa Grey.
They were married, and the first week In
the glorious month Of August, Sir Cyrll
took his wife home to Eastwood.
Nothing could have equaled his kind
ness to Glade. By his own orders
beautiful little suite Of rooms was set
aside for her in the western wing, and
they were beautifully fitted up; and some
weeks afterward Sir Cyril sent for ner
to meet the family lawyer, and they pro-
ceeded to draw up and sign different doc
uments, by which the sum of hive thou
sand pounds was settled on her. she
was speeches., her pale face and shad-
owed eyes puzzled the lawyer.
For time it softened and soothed the
deadly hate, the burning rancor, the
deadly sense of wrong, the jealousy that
stroye like fend in her heart. 50 they
| lived for a time, and the beautiful Lady
| Vernon was the admired OF all. Every
one liked and loved her; she was queen
| Of the county; she had all the gayetles
and festivities; she was one of the most
/ charming uOSleSSCS ever SC0h al
void.
/ Miss Beaton shared all Lady Vernon's
gayeties and pleasures-they were exact
| ly like sisters-there was just this one
difference between them-Lady Vernon
| gave to Glade true, loyal, kindly, sin
cere love- while Glade gave to her the
keenest, most bitter, most jealous hate
that one person could give another. 1t
was well concealed, carefully hidden. but
still it was there-it famed out at times,
and they mistook it for overzeal; bur
there was hate enough in Gladie's heart
| for murder.
| But the time when Glade hated her
most was when her little son was born;
that was one fine, warm, bright day IN
June, when the smile of heaven, as shown
| in the summer sun, rested on the land,
and the air was filed with music. Then
it seemed to Lenore that her cup of hap
piness brimmed over, when they brought
lovely babe, with Sir Cyrips dark curls
and her blue eyes, and, placing it in her
arms, told her it was her son. She won
dered afterward that she had not gone
mad with the very excess of her joy. A
son! it was the one thing to complete her
bliss.
/ The child grew in strength and beauty,
4 Gladie's hatred seemed to grow with it.
! The time came when he could begin to
/ talk, when a sweet, shrill little voice
echoed through the hall, voice Sir Cyril
thought sweeter than the birds music
or the whisper of the wind; and once
this was when little Audley was one
4 year old, and could run from room to
room-he saw white dress in the dis
lance, and thought it was Lady Vernon.
Mamma he cried, running to it, but
it was Glade, who stood waiting. Nam
ma" he cried again, in his shrill, sweet
voice; then Glade caught him in her
arms; there was pain amounting to de-
| spair in her face.
Il am not your mamma" she said;
then she clasped him to her breast. u
ought to have been your mamma, but l
| am not; if love forms any claim, then, oh,
surely, above all other women, I had
| that claimr"
! The child cried, and the passion of love
in her face changed to the passion of
/ hate.
Il should like to open that window and
drop you on to the ground below, she
| said; and, though the child was too little
to understand the words, he understood
the tone, and cried aloud. Just at that
moment his nurse came hurrying to him.
What is the matter? Miss Beaton,
/ what are you doing?" she cried, and
Glade turned to her with a naughty look.
| you must not speak to me in that
tone" she said II am doing nothing to
the child; he is bad-tempered and naugh-
ty!''
The nurse took the little one, sobbing
in her arms.
| s.He is not bad-tempered, Miss Bea-
| TOM she said; mo one could call him
| So"
| She hurried away with her little
charge, and Glade stood still while the
wild, mad passion raging in her died
| away.
| There came another day, when little
Audley had reached his third year, and
she took him out while his nurse was
otherwise engaged she took him to the
| top Of steep hill which formed a preci
pice and was called the Gray Rock"
there in her moody fashion, she sat down
on the grass, leaving the child to play
with the flowers.
Suddenly she thought to herself how
easy it would be to let him go too near
| the edge, to send him to gather one little
flower, to give him one touch, gentle
touch, and he would go over. What a
grand revenge!
She rose suddenly from the grass, and
stood painting, trembling with the influx
of murderous rage.
"How she would scream and cry-how
she would toss those white arms of hers
in the air. and moan for him! What
grand revenge! But, mol" she checked
herself Something better has occurred
to me. All! to strike her through him!
Why did | not think of it before? My
sure revenge is in my hands at last!''
Go be continued.)
An Appropriate Remark.