Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1899-02-22
CHAPTER ZXVU.

T. uos not until the first bewilderment
.tbis sorrow passed away that Lord Wv
=. csJv-vn thought OF asking how it hap
noJ No one could tell him. The lady's
r,sid te,d him all that Lady Beatrice had
81 arI he could not understand why
.;s yrifa had been so determined upon vis-
;+inc Redruth-what could have induced
her TO brave his annoyance and anger. to
3isobey his commands. TO disregard his
wishesg There must be some reason why.
hr, be never discovered it. The secret Of
that Journey. for which she had been will
inc 10 risk her life. persisted with her. =
Deepest gloom seemed that day to have
fallen on Selwyn Castle. Every one was
stunned and bewildered BY the doctors
advice all knowledge of the accident was
carefully concealed from Rupert What
ever Lord Selwyn thought or felt, he was
obliged. in his sons presence, to carefully
conceal all emotion.
That same day his lordship visited the
eroom's cottage. The man left wife and
three little children to lament his loss.
Lord Vivian did all he could for the
woman. He gave her the cottage, and
settled upon her pension that would for
ever keep grim want from her door.
There was an inquest, but no one had
ANYTHING 10 say, and the verdict was, as
matter of course. accidental DEATH
On Mrs. Rivers the sad, sudden death
n-oduced a strange effect. 1t gave her
time for thought. She had dreaded the
revelation of her secret; she had dreaded
the terrible scene that must have ensued
when II became known; and now it was
once more her own. She depiored Bea-
,rice's sad death more, perhaps, than any
one. for she alone knew the secret OF the
terrible crime the dead woman had plan
ned She mourned not only for the lost
life, but for the sin-laden soul so swiftly.
so suddenly summoned before its Judge.
She was miserably undecided what to
do There were times when it seemed to
her the only atonement she could make
for her error was TO confess her fault TO
her husband. to tell him every motive
which had actuated her and let him pun
ism her as he would. That idea would
take possession of her until she was near
IL throwing herself at his feet and telling
him all.
Then came the reaction. The same mo-
tiyes that had led her to make the sacri-
fee existed still. They were rather deep
ened by the thought of how her son would
listen to such story and how it would
affect him.
She resolved at last upon keeping silent
short time longer.
The day came when Rupert was able to
leave the room in which he had fought
so fierce 1 battle with the grim King
Death and 20 down stairs. Soon as he
was able to travel his father asked him If
he would like to go TO Scotland, and the
boy Was delighted with the idea.
Lord Selwyn and Rupert went to Scot
land. There in the clear. bracing north
ern air. health and strength came back
TO the young heir of Selwyn. He grew
rapidly; his fathers eyes rested upon him
in admiring love. Rupert was noble,
princely boy. and his father gloried in
him. There. in the long walks by noun
tain and glen. they spoke of Niolante, and
the boy day by day loved more dearly the
memory Of his gentle mother.
Mrs. Rivers went to Brighton with little
Lance; his nurse accompanied her. A
pretty house vas taken for them on the
Parade, and the patient, gentle lady, who
had repented so bitterly of her error, sat
herself to work bravely to fill mothers
place to tine motherlcss child. She Law
isi"I care and tenderness upon him; She
taught him all night and all day-she new
er liked him one moment out of her sight,
and it seemed to her that by this devo-
ton to the boy she made some slight
atonement TO the mother for the wrong
she had unwittingly done to her.
What she should do in the future, Vio-
lante did not know. The summer and
autumn wore away, winter and spring
came round, and as yet no news had been
heard from Lord Selwyn.
The month Of June came, with the red
roses all in warm bloom. Then Lord Sci
Wyn wrote 10 say that he was returning
with Rupert TO Selwyn Castle, and would
be glad to have little Lance at home
again.
80, when the chestnuts were all in bloom
and the lines in blossom, Mrs. Rivers re-
turned with the little child to the home
mat had been desolate so long.
1t seemed, that evening when Lord Sell
Wyn returned, as though every memory
OF MS former life came over him. He
thought Of the fair-haired boy who had
died IN his arms-his last word a message
OF love to his sister; he thought Of his
Journey to WoOdeaves, and the sweet face
Of Niolante Temple as it first da awned up
on him; he remembered his marriage, and
the glorious golden time that had followed
t-had ever man been loved as Violante
loved him?
lhen he began to wonder il Beatrice
had really been unkind to Violante, OF
whether It was but jealous fancy. The
memory Of Niolante seemed to possess
oered the graceful, gentle, half-timid man.
ner' the sheen of the golden hair, the
HSht OF the violet eyes, the sweet lips
whose smile warmed and gladdened his
Neart-his gentle, beautiful, lost love.
ne said her name -"Violanter'-
anu II seemed to him that the wind took n
up ana the birds repeated it. All, il he
.ouId out live his life over again, how diff.
teEthtiy he would act: how he would love
anu cherish his first, his only love, Vic
lant. And Lord Vivian Selwyn, master
He!"yn Castle, lord of that splendid
uoH''ih' mead of a gallant race, sat dow1
IPon one of the iron seats, perhaps more
neso.ate and lonely in heart than any maj
in Engl and.
iAeN' clear, sweet and soft on the warn
e''n.ns air he heard his own name. .sViy
and the voice that uttered it wa.
na. OF the fair-hairad girl he had lovet
so tenderly.
"Vivianr'
'er was sigh of the wind so soft o
sweet lie did not stir or move. II,
io'eo her so fondly, he had rnougn'
ner so continually, that he may bt
paiuoned Tor the superstitious fancy thai
''erpoWered him He had loved her d
we, rhat, even should her sweet, pur'
spirit return to comfort him he would fee
no surprise.
SiVian!' cried the sweet voice again