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helpless indignation, and Miss Hawkesby morning, and her self-reliance was giving with Joanna, highly pleased with her, though looked at her with an expression of haughty way under repeated small trials, not the I had not expected to be. Miss Basil has defiance; but neither said a word.
least of which was the irresistible conviction evidently spared no pains with the child, and “Just excuse me, ma'am, one minute," that old Miss Hawkesby, whom she had she deserves great credit for that." said Miss Crane to Mrs. Ruffner; “Sarah thought to manage and patronize, far sur- “My husband's granddaughter,” said never is any good behind the counter.-0 passed her in worldly wisdom. But it is no Mrs. Basil, tremulously — and there she ladies, good-morning!” to Mrs. Basil and rare inconsistency of human nature to turn stopped. Her thoughts were in painful con. Miss Hawkesby, turning a shade more yellow for refuge in an emergency to some unwel. fusion, and she knew not what she would at sight of Mrs. Basil. “ If Sarah had but come conviction like this. Poverty of re- say. give me a hint it was you, I'd not have kept source has made many a desperate woman Oh, we'll sist this gossip to the bottom,” you waiting; but it's Mrs. Ruffner in the next resign her pride; and with the hope that said Miss Hawkesby, with decision.
" I beroom, selecting of a belt-buckle, and so very Miss Ilawkesby might relieve her perplexity, lieve nothing against Miss Basil until I hear choice she is! What can I do for you, la- Mrs. Basil uttered her protest, with a latent her story; and I know that she has too much dies?
consciousness that it was, in reality, an ap- good sense to persist in a mystery, in the “Those moss-rose-buds I laid aside here!” peal to Miss Hawkesby's superior tact and face of all this talk." said Miss Hawkesby, aggressively.
judgment. “It is not to be borne !” said “ Pamela is very secret," sighed Mrs. Ba“Sarah, you stupid !” excluimed Miss she, vehemently.
sil. “I've never yet dared to approach her Crane, sharply,“ did I not show you where I “I waited for you to speak, madam," said on the subject, much as it has harassed me." put them—in this very drawer?-So sorry, Miss Hawkesby, with a formal bow, expres
“Oh, indeed ? But I shall dare," said ma'am, that you've been kept waiting. Here sive of her relief at being freed from the re
old Miss Hawkesby. they are, ma'am; a dollar and a quarter a straint of silence. “ It concerns you 30 spray, and remarkably cheap. For a young much more nearly than it does myself. But lady's evening-dress, I think you said, ma'am ? I quite agree with you - it is not to be If I might suggest, it would require for the cor- borue.”
CIIAPTER XXVIII. sage, tunic, sleeves, and coiffure, just four of “I allude to this gossip,” said Mrs. Basil, these elegant sprays, for five dollars-uncom- whose usual cold composure was rapidly monly reasonable.” Miss Crane was in a forsaking her. “Could any thing be more The first gusty drops of the impending fever of impatience to return to Mrs. Ruffner. mortifying to a woman in my position ? storm were beginning to fall when the two
Miss Hawkesby, however, had no mercy Miss Basil's connection with me; and Mrs. ladies alighted at Basilwood, bent upon an upou ber. She examined the roses critically, Ruffner, the widow of Charles Samuel Ruff- instant interview with Miss Basil. But only leaf by leaf; she asked for wbite muslin to ner, stooping—"
Joanna was at home, watching the clouds display them on; she surveyed them deliber- 'Why, my good madam," said Miss with despair in her heart. Anita had not ately at arm's length, scrutinized thein closely | Hawkesbs, “we must take the world as we yet returned from the rehearsal, and Miss again, and finally turned her back on them, find it; and gossip is Mrs. Ruffner's propen- Basil had gone to the Griswolds with medisaying, cruelly, to Mrs. Basil:
sity; what else can you expect of her ? " cines. Mrs. Basil and Miss Hawkeshy, there“I think Joanna would prefer those scar- “I own," said Mrs. Basil, with a sort of fore, retired, each to her own room, to ponlet geraniums at Miss Green's.”'
peevish triumph that contradicted her words, der in private the best method of approacbNow Miss Green was a rival milliner, “I did expect that a decent respect for our ing the reticent Miss Basil on the subject lately come to Middleborough, and already cousin, Mrs. Stargold, would have kept her of those mysterious hints they had that threatening Lebrun with total eclipse. at home in the present alarming condition of morning overheard ; and poor little Joanna “Oh dear, ma'am!” cried Miss Crane, Mrs. Stargold's health."
was again alone, speculating despondingly eagerly," so far to go in this coming storm. “Now, I don't believe a word of that," upon the prospect of a disappointment, and I can show you some fuschias, the perfection said old Miss Hawkesby, quickly.
wondering uneasily why Anita staid away of art. Moss-roses is common, I agree-" ging your pardon, madam, Elizabeth Star- so long. The sight of the scarlet geraniums
But Miss Hawkesby was deaf, dumb, and gold is no more going to die than I am. served but to aggravate her despair, for alblind. She stalked to Mrs. Basil's carriage, There is but a year between us, and she has ready the rain was dropping, slowly and fitlooking as much like a fierce hussar as it was a constitution of iron. I know, for I went fully, indeed, but with the unmistakable prompossible for a woman in a lace shawl to look ; to school with her. She's had a shock, and ise of ultimately “pourivg in torrents." while Mrs. Basil followed behind, marking the Ruffners are doing all they can to foster Late in the afternoon, Anita returned; every step with her ivory-leaded staff. They that shock into something serious. She's very pale and tired she looked, as Joanna drove to Miss Green's, where Miss Hawkesby, had a shock, and she's taken it morbidly; without leaving the carriage, bought the but she'll get over it. That doesn't trouble “O Anita !” she cried, “ you have worn scarlet geraniums, and then proclaimed her. I'm much more deeply concerned about yourself out! I thonght you were never self ready to return to Basilwood.
this talk in regard to our excellent Miss Ba- coming back. Is it going to rain vers, very “It is not to be borne!” at last Mrs. sil. It is not altogether new to me; and I'm
hard?" Basil exclaimed, when they had proceeded afraid there is some foundation for all this “My poor little Joanna,” said Anita, taksome distance on their way. Was it not in gossip.”
ing her sister's face between her hands, tolerable that this wretched gossip about “Pamela shall deceive me no longer !” “would it be so great a disappointment to Miss Basil should come to Miss Hawkesby's cried Mrs. Basil, shrilly, beginning to lose
miss this tiresome charade.party?” ears just as the old lady seemed disposed to control of herself as the suspicion dawned “It is tiresome to you, Anita, because you take an interest in Joanna ? This thought upon her that old Miss Hawkesby was about
bave worked so over it.
How hot your kept Mrs. Basil long silent. Then it sud- to espouse Pamela's cause. “I have been hands are! Lie down and rest, or you will not denly occurred to her that perhaps the hints harassed too much already by hints of this be able to go. And I have scarlet geraniums, they had just heard might inspire Miss nature. I shall see her when I arrive at Anita ; isn't Aunt Hawkesby kind to me? Hawkesby with a laudable desire to rescue home, and DEMAND an explanation !”
And Joanna held up the box containing the her forlorn little grandniece from the influence “I think you are right, midam,” said flowers, for Anita's inspection. of a woman wrapped about in mystery. Apart Miss Hawkesby, with judicial calm. " I've Anita looked at them, smiling absently; from all anxiety in regard to Arthur, which, no doubt Miss Basil can explain satisfacto- then, turning away abruptly, she began to indeed, had given place now to a half-hope, rily. I came here with a prejudice against move restlessly about the room. ball-fear that Anita would be his choice, she that excellent woman. I'm rather apt to “Are you displeased, Anita ?
Is any did really desire the good of her husband's take up prejudices, but I can lay them down thing the matter? Has any one vexed you?” granddaugliter. Perplexed and distressed, again, thank Heaven! And Miss Basil has asked Joanna, anxiously. she felt an unwonted craving for sympathy disarmed me completely. I've acquired a “I'm rehearsing my pirt, child," said and counsel. She had been sorely tried that great respect for her; and I am much pleased Anita, with a mock-tragedy air,
saw at once.
up tu her.
“But you will be worn out; you never “ Anita," said Joanna, coloring deeply, The man, seizing his companion by the will be able to go, if you do not rest? And and avoiding her sister's eyes, “if you love arm, shouted the single word "Run!” I can't go without you,” said Joanna, plead. | each other, time will make it all right; you And Joanna obeyed, as though upheld by ingly.
are neither of you old, and Aunt Han kesby superhuman strength, half giddy with the “I am very sorry for you, Joanna," said is. And people ought not to be married this peril of the situation, and almost overpow. Anita, gently, “ but the charades cannot take way; they ought to be married properly at ered by the tremendous rush of recollections place to-night. You see there is going to be home."
that crowded to her mind. She gave herself a storm. Never mind, Joanna, you shall “ Time and youth against Aunt Hawkes. up for lost, and strove to frame a prayer. have plenty of opportunities in the future." by!” said Anita, bitterly. “It is too late!” But Heaven willed it otherwise, and Joanua's
"I knew it would be so," said Joanna, “ Anita, you say that if you go away I feet touched the land in safety. Then, with resignedly, after a short silence of blank shall see you no more-how can I bear that? a thankful beart, she looked back, and saw, disappointment. " And my dress was Write and tell him not to come at least not on the opposite bank, the man and the wom. pretty, and the scarlet geraniums and all, Write, and I will carry the note." Jo. an whom she had met in crossing standing and you would have made me look so nice." anna had risen. “Write, write, Anita, and safe. She knew not who they were, but a Anita turned ber face away. “Bui, never you will never be sorry for it. It is best to common peril had made them seem inexpresmind,” continued Joanna, cheerfully ; "you do right.”
sibly near to her; and they, probably, had will yet dress me up in my pretty dress—will “My dear, good Joanna," said Anita, the same feeling toward her, for the man was you not, Anita ? ” But, to her consterna- slowly, “ give me the paper ; I will write. I waving his hat to ber. And the crazy old tion, her sister answered by a sob. “O) Ani. said I would never sacrifice myself for you, bridge still kept its place! Doubtless it ta! what bas happened, włat is going to did I not? Yet see what I am doing! Well would stand forever, Joanna thought; and in happen ? " cried Joanna, in terror, running may Basil Redmond say that you are his a little while she would have seen Miss Ca. rival."
ruthers, delivered her note, and be on her “ Child,” said Anita, falteringly, “if I “ You are doing right,” said Joanna, way back again to Anita; and so, hastening were to go away and never see you more,” “and all will be well. You shall be happy, on, she presently arrived at her destina.
“You must not go, you shall not go!” too, Anita; Aunt Hawkesby has a heart, and tion. cried Joanna, clinging to her sister in terror. I will prove it to you."
The house in which Mrs. Paul Carutbers “Anita ! Anita ! what are you going to do? “ But it rains," said Anita, anxiously, see. then lived was built in the carly days of Is it Mr. Redmond ? I will tell Pamela-I ing that Joanna began to array herself in Middleborough. Everybody knows the di. will tell my aunt!”
water-proof and over-shoes. “Why not send minutive, two-story frame building, standing “No, Joanna; for you will not betray old Thurston ?"
on a corner fronting the west ; its walls are me," said Anita, quietly. “ It is easy enough “No, no; I myself will take it; did I not a dingy wbite, its Venetian blinds a dingy to go to Aunt Hawkesby's room and tell her say that I would risk my life for you? Old green. Two uncommonly tall crape-myrtles that I am going away forever this night. She Thurston would sell his soul for gold, but he guard the gate, like a pair of plumed grena will tie her head up in her silk handkerchief couldn't be hired to risk his ‘jints' in this diers ; two huge Cape jasmine-bushes, the and upbraid me, but she can't prevent my weather.”
rotund growth of many years, obscure the going; and, when I am gone, you will win “But it is over the bridge and into the narrow windows on either side of the congreat favor in her sight by having betrayed town that you must go,” said Anita,
to An- tracted porchi, to which a bricked walk leads the unworthy trust of your undutiful sister; | relia Caruthers. She will be the surest to see the way. A brown and yellow door, blistered but, whether you betray me, or whether you him—she was to have come over with him." by the sunsets of many a summer, invites you, do not betray me, you will see me no more Very well, I can take it,” said Joanna, by a deeply-indented brass knocker, to make after this night, my little sister. Our aunt, eagerly, as she pinned the note inside the your coming known. Miss Hawkesby, will immediately exact a pocket of her water-proof. If only she could Joanna's impatient summons was answered promise of you, and duty, honor, gratitude, get away safely with it! Pamela had laid by Mrs. Paul Caruthers in person. all will bind you to keep it religiously- -nev. an injunction upon her not to go out-but “Why, bless me!” cried the old lady, er, never to see me again."
that was in consideration of the charade staring, “I surely thought it was the doctor. Poor Joanna, trembling violently, and party-and, while so much was at stake, a I've been threatened again with that Fertigo, with tears streaming down her face, threw trifling disobedience could not matter. “Now, and I sent for Dr. Garnet, above three bours herself on her knees at her sister's feet. Anita, won't you lie down and go to sleep? I ago. I surely thought, when you knocked, “I cannot betray you! No, no! No mat- will not be gone very long."
that it was he. Well, come in, child; I know ter wbat it might cost me, I cannot betray So Anita promised, and Joanna set forth you, but I can't recall your name.” you. But I can plead with you. Anita, I upon her errand.
Joanna, in high excitement with her walk, would risk my life for you! I would give It was not raining very hard when she left ber temporary fright, and her eagerness to my life for you! Mr. Redmond is wrong—” Basilwood, but by the time she had arrived perform her errand and return, shouted her "Hush, Joanna; he loves me," said Anita, at the bridge the storm had burst in all its na
pame in the old lady's ear. in a low voice.
fury. The narrow river, subject to sudden * There !” cried Mrs. Caruthers, crossly, “He cannot love you as I love you!” and violent freshets, was seething and whirl- | and recoiling a step. “I'm not so deaf as cried Joanna, passionately.
ing madly in its course; but Joanna did not all that. Come in. What on earth brought “You know nothing about it, child," said dream of danger, though the bridge rocked you out in this storm ? I'll engage Miss Ba. Anita ; but she smiled.
with every blast; her only anxiety was to sil doesn't know it." “I know my own heart,” cried Joanna, perform her errand. The bridge being cov. Joanna, ignoring this last remark, en"and I would give my life for you, Anita. ered, she did not feel the full severity of the deavored to make Mrs. Caruthers understand Don't go away this night. Aunt Hawkesby, storm while under its shelter, where all was that she wished to see Miss Aurelia. she is old-she has had you from a little dark, save when a fiash of lightning illumined “You must take off this cloak," said the child, Anita-I couldn't leave Pamela this the obscurity. About midway she ran against old lady, for answer ; "I can't have it dripway. And we have just found each other; two persons, a man and a woman), crossing in ping on my carpet, you see." must we lose each other so soon-so soon ? the opposite direction. They, like herself, Joanna, in a fever of impatience, slipped Anita, be pitiful; there are but us two." were enveloped in water.proof, and evidently off her cloak, repeating her demand to see
“It is too late, Joanna, it is too late," said in as great baste as she. The collision caused Miss Aurelia. Anita, turning her face away.
an appreciable delay of an instant, and in “Sit down," said Mrs. Paul Caruthers, “No, it is not too late, even at the last that instant a fearful creaking and swaying pushing her into the little parlor, and then moment,” said Joanna.
of the timbers warned the three to hasten into a little chair. “ What on earth do you “I cannot let him come for me and then for their lives.
want with Aurelia ?" refuse to go with him," said Anita. “I can- “ Merciful Heaven!” shrieked the woman,
" I've a message for her!” shouted Jo not do that. Have you no thought for him ?” we are lost!”
“ And I'm in baste!"
not a moment to
“Bless me! I'm not so very deaf, sure. “ Poor thing! I'm ifraid ly. I wonder you do not remember,” said young," said old Mrs. Paul Caruthers, shak.
AN ARTIST'S ADVENTURE. the old lady, with indignant reproach. “A | ing her head compassionately. “Do, doctor, note or a message from Miss Anita, I sup- give her a little valerian."
THERE are in Europe, in all the most “Valerian!” crid Joanna, with an hyster. charming spots, such as the neighbor“Oh, please, can I see her?” entreated ical laugh. “Valerian! All the old women hood of Baden-Baden, on the Lake of Como, Joanna.
in the world believe in valerian. Will it take near Florence, and in Rome, certain unoc“What? See Aurelia ? Why, didn't I me back to Basilwood ?"
cupied houses, belonging generally to roy. tell you that she is gone? She went half an Mercy upon us !” cried Mrs. Caruthers, alty, or to the uureigning scious of royal hour ago, across the bridge to Upper Middle. lifting a pair of trembling hands; “the girl's families. These houses, fitted up with works borough. I shouldn't wonder if you met her. intellects are scattering, surely. And it is of art, beautifully furnished, and with an She was with Mr. Redmond.”
enough to unsettle one, I say. Middleborough equipage of servants, stand always ready for Joanna started up with a cry of dismay. bridge is gone? Well, I wonder! It has their host and hostess, and are in their abSurely, she had met them on the bridge; why stood for twenty years or more. I always sence freely shown to guests, who pay a trihad she not thought of it? If she could only said it would last my time, and I suppose fling gratuity to the steward for the privilege. get back to Anita in time! shall go next.”
Such a house, rich in Canova's master“You are not going back to-night, sure- “Not a bit of it, madam !” said Dr. Gar- pieces, stands, always empty, always open, on ly?” said Mrs. Caruthers.
net, with loud assurance. “We'll build up the Lake of Como. It is the Villa Carlotta, “Oh, I must! I must!” she cried, rush. the bridge, and you too."
known to all travelers. Not so well known, ing out into the little entry, where, to her in- “ And get me back to Basilwood this and on a different part of the lake, stands expressible indignation, Dr. Garnet caught night?” cried Joanna, eagerly, encouraged another villa, which we will call Villa Lucca. her in his arms, just as he was coming by his confident tone.
I had gone there to see a disputed Corin.
“ Excuse me there, if you please,” said reggio of which I had beard at Parma. I “Hey-dey!” he cried, in his bluff way. Dr. Garnet. “I don't undertake to perform found the house the perfection of solitude, “ How the mischief did you get here? By impossibilities; and you can't get back.” luxury, refinement, and beauty, and full of boat?"
“Not by boat ? "
statues, pictures, storied tapestry, goblets of “You know very well that I did not come Certainly not.”
Benvenuto, old china, and bric-d-brac enough that way," said matter-of-fact Miss Joanna, “Am I to stay here forever ?” cried she to break the heart of a collector. indignantly. “Let me go! I am going then, with shrill emphasis, and wringing her It was full of every thing but human home. I tell you there hands.
beings, and ready for them; a young buslose."
“The Lord forbid !” said old Mrs. Caru. band could have brought the most exigeant “Home to Basilwood!” said Dr. Garnet, thers, devoutly.
bride there any moment, and a banquet would loudly, and little knowing the misery he was “Now see here,” said Dr. Garnet, “ you have risen from the ground for them. Several about to inflict. “Why, you can't get there. just make yourself easy. You are safe here, servants in livery, with nothing to do, stood The bridge is gone ; utterly and irremediably and all in good time you'll get back to Basil. around or moved away with the rapidity and gone; I saw it with my own eyes." wood."
silence of lizards. I thought of calling it Joanna stared at him wildly, and then, “All in good time! Oh, you know noth- the “ Palace of the Sleeping Beauty,” in my realizing that she was cut off from home, ing about it!” cried Joanna, with a passion. note-book, but on writing that down it looked staggered back against the wall, white as a ate burst of tears. “I shall never see my as if the thing had been said before, and I sheet. sister again.”
rubbed it out as unworthy. “Good Heavens!” exclaimed Dr. Garnet. “I think you would better look at her The grounds, reaching to the lake, were “ You are not going to faint ? Why, there tongue, doctor-and feel her pulse," said
enchanting, filled with every fragrant flowwas nobody hurt, you sensitive-plant! See Mrs. Caruthers. “I'm not so sure but that er, every resplendent, blossoming tree; long what it is, now, to be a woman, and have a good dose of valerian—this breaking down “pleached alleys” like that down which nerves." of Middleborough bridge is a terrible shock
“Beatrice, like a lapwing, ran," “I'm not a woman, and I've got no —the instability of mundane affairs, to be
offered their shade and beauty to my already nerves !” cried Joanna, with rampant an- sure !"
intoxicated senses. Some person of the most tagonism. “But I'm a miserable, unfortu. My head does ache," said poor Joanna, nate girl !_0 Pamela ! Pamela! why did I helplessly, to the doctor. “ Am I going to be
refined, subtilely refined, taste had planned disobey you? Had I staid at home, as you ill? Pamela said so this morning."
this paradise, had built and finished it. bade me, all might yet be well.-It will break “IINot a bit of it!" said the doc. "A poet on a throne had realized his dreams," my heart, Anita !"
tor, encouragingly. Only a little nervous as Disraeli beautifully said of Louis of Bava“I can't make out one word she says !” excitement. I'll give you a dose of chloral ; ria. What a pity that he was so unworthy the cried old Mrs. Paul Caruthers, indignantly. that will quiet you. Then do you lie down saying! Then what blight had come across “ What is it all about."
and take it easy -not my physic, but this it, what ennui, what disappointment, bad driv. " I'm blessed if I know," said the doctor, mouse-trap business, ha! ha! We'll get you en the owner away? It seemed to me to be helplessly.
back to Basilwood all in good time--all in the only privilege I would ask of Fate, to be “You do know !” cried Joanna, passion good time.”
allowed to stay there, to live always with such ately. The bridge is gone, and all my hopes “It is too late," sighed Joanna, as she a surrounding ; to look on that lake by morn. Blasted !"
swallowed the doctor's dose. “When I get ing light, by starlight, and by moonlight; to Dr. Garnet laughed.
back to Basilwood all will be over.-0 Ani. breathe even the air loaded with the sweet Mrs. Caruthers uttered a little scream. ta! Anita! Anita! Every thing will be scent of the Olia fragrans, most delicate of “ The bridge gone? I trust Aurelia was changed."
perfumes. not on it,” said she, with a voice and look “You may lie down in here," said Mrs. I had permission from a great personage of terror. Caruthers, opening a door into the adjoining
connected with the owner of the villa to copy No, no; she is safe enough, on the other room, with an air of heaping coals of fire the Correggio, and the old steward told me side," said Joanna, bitterly.
upon her enemy's head. “ It is Aurelia's that there were certain apartments in a pa“ The Lord be praised !” ejaculated Mrs. own room, and not a bad place to be caught vilion in the gardens which he had the right Caruthers. “And Middleborough bridge is in, I'm sure," she added, with resentful ref. to let. I could take them for a month. The
erence to Joanna's unfortunate speech about princess who owned the villa had not been “It is gone!” wailed Joanna.
" And I
the mouse-trap, which the old lady misunder- near it for several years; he did not know if am caught here, just like a mouse in a trap. stood. Ever afterward she asserted that Jo. she would ever come again, but his orders And nobody feels for me," she added, bitter- avna had spoken it in contempt of the dings were imperative—he was to keep the house ly, as Dr. Garnet laughed again. little bousc.
always ready for her.
So I took up my comfortable quarters court, a woman of many caprices, and not apt done. She happened to see a water-color of in the pavllion, and began my copy of the to be foiled in any thing she undertakes." yours in London which pleased her very Correggio. The room in which it hung I felt as a sort of male Danaë may have much, and she determined to find you out. looked out on a secluded part of the garden, felt when Jupiter descended in an unexpected She knows everybody-artists, actors, au. far away from the noble front entrance, shower of gold. I had lived many years in thors, wits, celebrities of all kinds, as well as The people who came to see the villa often London ; I knew all these people; I had an the whole world of society. Never was such passed through the grand state apartments, uncle who was an ex-minister ; I had influ- a woman as she is for leading four or five nor noticed the modest wing where I was at ence enough, here and there, to reach my lives, full of talent, full of impulse, and, for. work. This pleased me; it helped the illu- princess, and obtain permission to copy her tunately, also full of good sense, although sion which I was carefully creating in my Correggio; but I was withal a very modest she sometimes gets herself laughed at. Well, own mind that I owned the villa and should
personage, nor had I catalogued my own in her inquiries about you, she, knowing that continue to work and live there, forgotten greatness or merits quite so rapidly as bad you were an American, naturally went to Mr. by the world, unintruded upon by the real Lady Diana Estcourt. Therefore I was con- M-, your uncle, the ex-minister, and was owners, perhaps for the whole summer. siderably abashed; I was a modern Endym- very much relieved to find that you were his
This charm was rudely broken in upon ion in a painter's jacket, and a wondrously nephew, and, better than all, that you were by i most silvery voice, one morning-1 beautiful and unexpected Diana liad descend. in Italy, where she was coming. Watercolor woman's voice. I heard her parleying with ed from her radiant sphere to overwhelm me painting happens to be (excuse me if I speak the old steward. with her light.
irreverently) her passion at present, and she "I want to see the Correggio! My friend I dare say I was very awkward and very will follow that until she gets anotber fancy, the princess says I am to see the Correg- much embarrassed, but I knew enough to say My aunt, Lady Estcourt (for I happen to be a gio!” said the voice.
yes, and to express my willingness to place sort of distant cousin), is the slave of her “Yes, excellenza," said the old Italian, my poor talents at the disposition of Lady daughter and of her own ill-health, and if “but there is a young man painting in that Diana. She told me that she was staying you run round with a shawl, and tell her she
Let me ask him to retire first, and with her mother at Caddennabia, and should, is in a draught, Lady Estcourt will take you then your la dyship sball enter."
the next day, be glad to come and begin the into high favor. The princess, your noble I was about to jump out of the window, water-color lessons. In fact, so chatty, agree- hostess, we met at Milan. She is a friend of when I heard the voice again.
able, even confidential, became Lady Diana Lady Diana, and it was by the merest acci. “No! I want to see the artist. I have a Estcourt, that I felt on good terms at once, dent that in their chat it came out that letter from the princess in my hand. Go in and accompanied her and Mr. Courtnay to Frank Thornton, whoin we had been looking and give this card to him, bis name is—his the shore of the lake, where she and he for at Parma, was here, at her own Villa name is—Thornton," said the voice, hesitat- seated themselves in a little row-boat, where, Lucca, copying the Correggio.” ingly.
with one oarsman between them, they, them- “I am very happy," I replied, " and very Yes," said a masculine voice responding, selves each taking an oar, were soon receding much flattered, Mr. Courtnay, to have be. which I had not heard before, a voice scarce- from my view toward Caddennabia I no. come of so much importance all at once; it ly less sweet than that of the woman. ticed that Lady Diana pulled a very good oar. never happened to me before, I assure you.
I recoguized English voices, English ac. She was a “muscular Christian,” I was des. Now, will you add to your kindness, and tell cent, English speech, and the old steward put tined to find out-of a fine, healthy, powerful me about the princess :—for, although my into my hands the cards of
organization. There were good muscles in uncle got me a letter to her, and permission LADY DIANA ESTCOURT.
those well-shaped arms and hands; there was was graciously granted me to come here, I
health and vigor behind that delicate beauty. never have seen her." MR. ALFRED COURTNAY.
I have often noticed that very bandsome peo- I was looking straight into Mr. Courtoay's I was somewhat embarrassed by this un- ple are apt to be healthy. I suppose they black eyes as I spoke-peculiar eyes, in expected attention from such a lofty-sound- are as well made within as without. When I which every emotion seemed to show itself; ing lady, but I had little time to think of came back to my Correggio it struck me that shifting shadows came and went as he talked, myself before Lady Diana, evidently a person his Madonna was not so fair as I had thought even with me, who looked at him only with not apt to be refused, had followed her card. her, nor his flesh - tints so irreproachable. an artist's curiosity. As I spoke of the
A tall, superb figure in a white dress, and The beauty of Lady Diana was unbecoming princess, his eyes filled with a great light; wearing a sort of Rubens hat with a long to even Correggio, the sweetest and most per- they seemed to become larger and more beaufeather, swept into the room.
fect of the painters of women and children. tiful—they were positively dazzling. I had only time to observe that I stood Lady Estcourt, her daughter, and a troop “You have not seen the princess ?” said before a beauty, an English beauty, a young of maids and serving-men, came down by he. " The most beautiful woman in Euand fresh woman, not more than twenty the steamer next morning, and took up their rope!” years of age-perhaps not so old—and that residence in one of the handsomest suites of " Jupiter Ammon! more beauty. Whr, with her was a tall, dark young man in the the unoccupied villa. They did not pay me this is getting monstrous! I hope I shall irreproachable morning toilet of a London a visit that day, being busy, I suppose, in ar- nol see her," said I. " Lady Diana is quite man, when she addressed me with a sweet ranging themselves ; but Mr. Alfred Courtnay as much as a poor fellow can stand for que English accent:
pulled himself over in his little boat, and summer." “Excuse me, Mr. Thornton,” she said, kindly came in to see me.
Yes,” said Courtnay, the light shifting “for intruding on your working hours, but He, too, was singularly handsome. I felt again in his eyes, and a sort of cloud coming I have a pocket full of letters to you. In as if I were to be swamped with beauty. He over their brillianey-"yes, Lady Di is certhe first place, here is one from Holman Hunt, was an English-looking man with an Italian tainly very handsome. You know the story another from Ruskin, another from Millais. complexion, pale, dark, clear, and with a of the princess ? She married, very young, They all tell me you have the secrets of the pair of black eyes which fascinated and held the brother of the now reigning king, and water-color brush, and that you will perhaps the person into whose face he was looking had a son. Her husband died very soon after give me a few lessons. Then here is one with a sort of magnetic power.
her marriage. She bas remained a widow, from your uncle, the ex-minister to Lon- “I have come, Mr. Thornton," said he, This boy of hers may become of great imdon, one of my intimate friends, I assure you. with that voice which I had noticed before as portance from his nearness to the reigning Then here is another to you from your un- singularly musical—“I have come at Lady family, and her royal brother-in-law holds a known hostess, the princess, who gives me Diana's request to explain ber rather sudden pretty powerful hand over her. leave to take up my residence here, and to descent upon you yesterday. She is, as you continues to enjoy some liberty, and is happaint as many views of the lake as I please. i know, the daughter of an earl, and left by pier everywhere than here, where I suspect Now let me introduce my friend Mr. Alfred his death, with her widowed mother and a she passed some very unhappy years." Courtnay, who will in his turn introduce very large fortune, entirely free to do as she • How old is her son ?" said I, me, and assure you that I am Diana Est- pleases--in fact, that is what she has always | lessly.
“Oh, about six years, I suppose. Old marriage—who knows? And I gave a new as she looked at him with an artist's compre. enough to ride a pony, run risks of being dash to the eyelids of my beautiful Madonna, hension and a woman's adoration, was the drowned, and giving all his suite continued after Coreggio-yes, a long way “after." most worthy picture I have ever seen. I sat uneasiness, including bis mother, who adores Lady Estcourt bad been asleep, I think, up nights to paint her from memory, and I him, the cub!”
in the sheltered alcove where I had placed have the sketch by me still. I thought Mr. Courtnay's voice was a her. Lady Diana and Courtnay had gone, We made two pictures of the same man trifle less musical as he described the future and the maid was picking up the brushes totally unlike each other. Mine was the best princeling, the young gentleman whose for- when she awoke or came-to, and began talk. picture and the most like him, I still think ; tunes might become kingly, but who was now ing to me. A high-bred English lady knows but, do what I would, it would look like Cæa cub!
bow to be agreeable, even if she is profound- sar Borgia, I got in Courtnay's eyes, but But he took on again his fascinating man- ly selfish and afraid of draughts, and Lady | they had a baleful lustre. ner, and talked of the Correggio.
Estcourt condescended to be agreeable for “ You have made me a very handsome Then he left me, and I fell dreaming of five minutes.
fellow, with a very cunning, bad look," said the princess. I pictured to myself the royal She talked of my work and of her daugh. he, as he regarded my work. lady who had lived in this beautiful villa, and ter; asked what I thought of her talents, and Lady Diana had given him the expression who had been unhappy. "The mother of a if she was achieving much in water-color; of an angel. Those black eyes swam in a. son, six years old, she probably looks,” and then volunteered the interesting informa- sort of liquid beatitude. I could not say that thought I, “like Mary Queen of Scots. She tion that she would probably not care for it it was not like him. I had once seen that wears a black-velvet dress and a white coif long, as there was every probability of her look in his eyes, but it was when he spoke of on her head, as do royal widows. She is marrying her cousin, Alfred Courtnay, who the princess. pale, sad, noble-looking—the most beauti- was devoted to her ; " and then, you know, You have made me look as I shall look ful woman in Europe !'"
Nr. Thornton,” said Lady Estcourt, with a in heaven, Diana," said he, and for a moment Ah, Mr. Courtnay is mistaken. He has rather crippled effort at playfulness—" then he deserved the compliment, for he bent his forgotten that Lady Diana Estcourt is in Eu- ladies lose their interest in the accomplish- magnificent eyes upon her with that expres. rope ! ments."
sion which I have never caught in another The next day Lady Diana came in to take “Yes, they do,” thought I, as the days face, and smiled a lover's smile. her painting-lesson, with a maid bearing wa- went on, and I watched my beautiful pupil I had grown to admire Lady Diana more ter-color boxes, and her beautiful person and her agitation when Courtnay entered the and more. She had a very honorable, ingensbrowded in a brown-linen guard, such as I room, or saw them as they walked through unus, courageous nature, full of impulse, but have noticed English ladies are fond of don- the flowering, shaded alleys in that deep con- of impulse under the control of the purest ning when they work away at their paints. verse which lovers love. Lady Diana was principle. Our enforced intimacy, as pupil Her mother followed ber, a stout, elderly, i tall-almost as tall as Courtnay—and had and teacher, took us on many expeditions up aquiline-featured person, smothered in shawls. the chestnut hair, blue eyes, and dazzling and down the beautiful lake which Claude I was duly presented, and, remembering Court-complexion, of her race.
Menotte has described to so many audiences, nay's hint, warned her of the draught, and re- As she walked with Courtnay she had who always listen, I notice, to the allusion ceived a gracious smile.
one beautiful trick, which I always admired, to“ alabaster lamps” with bated breath. The Lady Diana showed me her sketches, and of holding his arm and turning to look at only “alabaster lamps we had at the villa went to work. She had got rather beyond him with her head thrown back like a deer. were the moon, and stars, and Courtnay's the alpha of water-color, but she was still Her heavy, glorious bair had given her a cer- magnetic eyes. For a month I saw Lady Diana farther from the omega. I should be able, I tain carriage of the head which was very no
several hours of every day. We talked perfound, to teach her a great deal.
ble. Its weight absolutely pulled the head petually; it was impossible not to know her She was painting away with conscientious-back. As she walked away from me one day well, and not to revere that clear and ele. ness and fervor, when Mr. Courtnay was an. leaning on his arm I noticed this attitude es- vated intelligence. The fact that she was nounced. She began talking to him with pecially. It seemed to me that she was ador- desperately in love with another man had vivacity, but I noticed that the strong white ing Courtnay far more than he did her. There perhaps its advantages—I could study her hand which had been dabbing away so firmly began to be lover-like intimacies between from a more unselfish stand-point. at the “ Lake of Como" began to tremble, them. I saw them sitting sometimes under I could not make out Courtnay; he was a and that the little ear nearest me became the rose-trellis, her white hand on his shoul. mystery, as changeful as his eyes. I couli very pink indeed.
der; and more than once I approached them not say that he was not all that was gentleSo that was Lady Diana's secret, was it ? with considerable preparatory noise, lest I manlike, lover-like, admirably polite, agree. Well, it was certainly none of my business. should surprise an even more affectionate able, with a thousand attractive qualities;
Courtnay, after a courteous salutation to grouping, perhaps interrupting or ruining a but in my heart of hearts I distrusted him. I me and a “ Good-morning, aunt," seated him. kiss.
knew that he did not love Lady Diana as she self by the young lady.
The lessons went on unremittingly, and loved him. Why, Di, you have improved already," one day, when Courtnay had left us for a It occurred one day to me, as we sat and said he. “What a good teacher Mr. Thorn- journey to Milan, I ventured to speak of his painted together, to ask Lady Diana about ton must be ! But the Lake of Como is extraordinary beauty, and to show her a the unknown princess whose silent and ungetting jealous. I think you have painted it sketch I had made of him from memory. obtrusive hospitality sheltered us both. I long enough. Won't you come out and take Lady Diana was highly delighted, and pro- told her of my imagination of her—a rather a row with old Giuseppe and me?"
posed that we should both ask him to sit, dignified copy of Mary Queen of Scots, a sug. Lady Diana had just got to that part of and that she should sketch him in water- gestion of Lady Macbeth, something rather her picture which needed that she should do color while I attempted him, in a sort of dark and terrible. Mystery is a great painter, still a little more before she left it. She Titianesque dress, in oils.
I have observed one of the oldest of the old asked Courtnay to wait a half-hour for ber, Courtnay was very good-natured under masters. when she would go.
this joint infliction, and posed for us most She laughed her pretty, hearty, sweet, muHe acceded rather ungraciously, I thought, patiently. He was indeed a subject wholly sical laugh. Dear Lady Di! in those days and the shadows in his curious eyes grew worthy of our work, and, in his Italian dress, she had that laugh ; in the enormously long gloomy. He looked at me once or twice. a perfect representation of a Venetian noble. inventory of her charms that must not be Could he possibly pay me the compliment of I have never seen a more superb masculine forgotten. She could laugh well-not too being jealous ? I had been lifted up into beauty.
loud, not too heartily. Terpsichore herself such unexpected notice in two days that I To see the woman who loved him so ten- could have envied Lady Diana her sweet, sil. did not know what might happen. Perhaps derly, and with a sort of attempted conceal. very laugh. the widowed princess might take a fancy to ment of her passion--to see her gracious, no- * Hear, Alfred-hear Mr. Thornton's do. me, and lift me to the height of a morganatic | ble, and most aristocratic head thrown back | scription of the princess,” said she.