Democratic Sentinel, Volume 22, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 February 1898 — WOOED AND MARRIED [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WOOED AND MARRIED

BY CHARLOTTE M BRAEME

CHAPTER XIV. Lord Caraven stood in the billiard room rat Uavensmere; he had been playing with one of his friends, who, having received a telegram, had gone to answer it. He stood alone, leaning carelessly against the open veranda, something more than his usual indifference darkening his face; he never liked interruption during a game. “A most unpropitions moment,” thought the young countess, :fs she caught .sight of him; hut, having given her word to Sir Raoul, she would have marched up to the mouth of a loaded cannon rather than have broken it. Rooking up, the earl could not but confess that he had seldom seen a lovelier picture than his young wife at that moment presented, with a Hush on her face, and her hands filled with sprays of fragrant mignonette. She would not reveal her hesitation, but went straight to him, smiling so that he little guessed how her heart beat. He raised his eyebrows as she drew nearer to him. What was going to happen? Before he had time to speak his face was buried in a soft, dewy mass of fragrant mignonette. ‘There!” said a laughing voice. "You said this morning that this was your favorite flower. I have been looking for the most fragrant sprays of it that I could find.”

He could not believe the evidence of his senses; it was incredible that the laughftig voice belonged to his cold, proud wife —the girl who had swept imperiously from the room when he saw her last. He looked at her in amazement. She would not •see the surprise on his face or make the least difference because of it. "You bare tbe very pick of the garden here.” she said; "every spray has its own special beauty.” He roused himself, and tried to recover from the wondering stupor that had overcome him. “You really remembered, Hildred. what - said?” he began. with a pleased look. “Yes, and I think you showed good taste." she replied. "I know no flower lovelier than fragrant mignonette.” "And you really think that I have good taste?” he said. "Yes. Why should that surprise you?” she asked, with a smile. His face flushed, and his e-yes drooped. "I landed,” he said, hurriedly, "that you considered me altogether graceless, and without one re-deeming quality. 1 believe this is the- first thing that you have ever given me of your own fre-e will, is it not?” “So,” she replied, quietly, “it is not.” "Ah, pardon me,” he said, with a quick change of face and voice—“you gave me your fortune!” There was hot rebellion for one moment —hot, hitter rebellion. Then she remembered Sir Raoul's words. It was for her husband’s good. She trampled down the hot impulse of angry pride—she stilled the bitter anger and contempt. Her victory over herself was so great that she was even surprised at it. She laid her band on his arm. “Nay, Lord Carnven,” she said, gently, “you are quite wrong. I was not thinking of money. Gold is dross —I despise it —I could almost hate it for the mischief that it makes. I was thinking of something very different from money—something that money could not buv.” He was looking at her with keen curiosity.

“Hildred, what have you given me that money could not buy?” The dark eyes gleamed -softly. “I will not tell you, Lord Curnven,” she answered. “But I must know. You have excited my curiosity—you must gratify it. You have enumerated three things that money cannot buy—happiness, virtue, love. It was none of these. Then what could It be?” “I must go, Lord Caraven,” she said, her face growing hot and her heart beating quickly. “If you weigh every word that I say, I shall have to be very careful.” “Hildred, tell me what you mean?” he requested. “What have you given me?” “I will tell you,” she replied, laughingly, “ when you have counted all those tiny leaves on the mignonette.” She turned to go, but, he put out his hand to detain her. She eluded him, and, with a light laugh, disappeared, leaving him by the veranda alone. “You look astonished at something,” said Lord Caraveu’s friend to him when he returned to resume their gume at billiards. “Yes,” replied the earl. “I have seen a ghost.” “A ghost! The ghost of what?” “I am not quite sure,” replied the earl; “but I think it was the ghost of what might have been.”

CHAPTER XV. Lady Caraven was pleased as she dressed for dinner. She had seen something in her husband's face that day which had surprised her, something that drove away the indolent, easy expression. Was the Bleeping lion roused at last? Had her passionate words, her keen indignation, moved him? Had he grown ashamed of his indolence? Had he tired of his pleasures? When the gentlemen came into the drawing room she made herself most fascinating and charming. She sang, she talked; the whole party thought her exceedingly entertaining. It was w hen her husband was looking most pleased, and listening to her with real interest, that she went up to him. “I have a little favor to ask of you,” she said. “Will you give me five minules of your time this evening?” His look was one of pleased, bright expectation. “Assuredly, Hildred—as long ns you like. lam beginning to think that my interviews with you are welcome ones.” So. when most of the visitors hail gone to their respective rooms, the earl lingered. It was something novel to him, this appointment with his own wifesomething piquant. He waited for her in the drawing room, where the blinds were still undrawn, and through the windows of which a lovely moon was shedding floods of silvery light. “You are very kind to wait, Lord Carafes,” she said. “I could not get away before. Lady Darners insisted on my going to her room to see a new-fashioned head-dress Worth has sent her. I could not get away. lam afraid you are tired.” “No,” he replied; “1 have been watching the moon and thinking.” "I hare come to ask of you,” said the ywnc countess —“a favor on whiob the

I whole of my life depends. In granting it I you will make me happy; if you refuse it : I shall be miserable.” "What is it. Hildred?” he asked. "I j do not in the (east understand.” "It is this. I want you to let me be | your steward —I mean, let me have charge nf your estate. I could do the duties far ! better than Mr. Blantyne.” "I give him a targe salary,” said Lord Caraven. naif laughing—"he ought to do I them well.” “But you have sceu for yourself that he does not,” she returned, “lie is not a • just steward.” “So,” was the grave admission, “he is not just. It is that which grieves me. He j has abused my trust. 1 shall never believe in him again.” "Then let me take his place,” she cried, eagerly. "I do not mean in the mere keeping of accounts —you will always want some one for that —nor even in the I looking after little details; but let me be your head steward, Lord Oaraven, and the welfare of your tenants and dependents, the well-being of your estate, the care of your property shall lie my one interest in life. I will be content to work early and late, to live without pleasure, if you win only grant my prayer.” "Bnt you are a lady. Hildred. How could you find time for it?” In her eagerness she forgot her reserve —she laid her hand upon his arm, and looked into his face. “I am not a fine lady; I am a lawyer’s daughter. It may even be that 1 inherit my father's liking for business. I shall find time, believe me, if you will give your consent.” “What would you do. Hildred, supposing I gave my consent?” he asked. “Say rather what would I not do. I would reform all abuses. I would make Raveusmere a model estate—people should point to it as a pattern. I would make your laborers men; they are now only soulless drudges. 1 would pull down those wretched cottages where squalor and disease run riot, and build in their places ; houses such as even the poor could love. I would educate the children. What a I question it is you ask me! What would i 1 not do?” The earl rose from his chair; he bent his head with chivalrous grace before 1 her. "My wife,” lie said, “you shame me.” “No,” she cried, “you must not say that ; to me.”

"I repeat it—you shame me,” he went on. "Yes, I give ipy consent—my free, full, hearty consent. You will make a better mistress of Ravensuiere than I do a master. You shall be the queen regent; I will be your prime minister. I place and leave all authority in your hands, and I promise you most faithfully that I will never interfere; you shall pull down and build up, you shall do just ns you will, I will never interfere.” She was so overjoyed with his promises, with the change in his manner, with the earnestness on his face, that she forgot all about her restraint and indifference, and she kissed the hand that held her own. She saw her husband’s face Hush crimson, and she drew back suddenly.

“I beg your pardon,” she said; “I am very sorry. I did not think of what I was doing, I was so overjoyed.” He took no notice of the involuntary caress, nor of the apology, though both had struck him. “I am glad that you are pleased, Hildred,” he said. "In placing my interests in your hands I feel that I have done to-day the wisest action of my life. Tomorrow we will send for Blantyre, and you shall confront him.” She left him then, pleased, happy, confused, with an overwhelming sense of the responsibilities she has assumed, and with something, she could hardly tell what, stirring in her heart, while Lord Caraven looked in nmnzemeut at the hand she had kissed. He wondered if he should ever understand her; and he began dimly to perceive that in the money lender's daughter he had found a noble, high-souled, glorious woman. Before many days had elapsed it became apparent that a new' reign had begun at Ravensmere. Sir Raoul was charmed and delighted; he never wearied of praising Lady Caraven, and telling her what a noble work she was doing; he did his best to help her. A wonderful change was coming over the earl. Not that he was beginning even in the least to love his wife —that idea had not yet occurred to him; but he was beginning to treat her with great respect, to recognize the fact that she was a high-souled woman. But, although the idea of love had not occurred to him, their relations toward each other were fast changing. The beautiful, gifted wife was fast taking her place in every respect nnd in every way, except in her husband's heart. Lady Caraven lost no time when her husband had once given her permission to act. He affected to laugh and feel amused at her zeal and her enthusiasm —in reality it shamed him. He asked her what her first reform was to be; and she told him all the laborers’ cottages were to be pulled down, nnd fresh houses built for them—houses whore the first laws of health could be regarded. She Wanted good fresh air, dry walls, pure water, plenty of room. She did not rest until the workmen were busy in removing what she called the “fever-acres.” She was to have her own way, yet she showed the sweetest submission to her husband. When the architect and builder waited upon her with plans for the model cottages, she took them at once to him. He looked up laughingly. “You pay me a compliment, Hildred,” he said, “but it is your affair entirely, not mine.”

“I shall find no pleasure in it unless I have your npprovul,” she replied. “I am your head steward, not your guide. Lookover these with me.” They discussed them in full detail, and that conversation had something so interesting, so piquant in it, that the earl was deeply interested. “Thank you,” said Hildred, looking up with a charming smile—“l am grateful to you for relieving me of my perplexity.” “The pleasure has been all on my side,” he answered; and that was the most gallant speech that the earl had yet made to his wife. So time passed an, and the beautiful summer days were filled with schemes and plans for the benefit of others. It seemed to the earl that he was really waking up from a long sleep. The world was wearing a different aspect for him. He had never even given a thought to politics. With the arbitrary insolence of youth he had pronounced them nonsense —and that was one of the things that Sir Raoul most deplored. Hildred, too, was sorry for it. She had been so successful in other matters that she ventured at last upon this. It was by a series of welldirected questions that she first aroused

his attentkn-. In trying to answer theta he grew interested himself. "If I eould vote,” Hildred had a fashion of saying, “I should try to urge that measure.” At last Lord Caraven awoke to the consciousness that in the government of Britain’s mighty empire he, too, ought to have voice. They had seen nothing of John Blantyre since his abrupt dismissal. The earl had been told that be had left Mere Cottage, but that he was living at Court Raven. That piece of intelligence did not trouble him; the nnjust stewnrd was part and parcel of the past—a past he was beginning to think of with regret. Nevertheless, John Blantyre lived only for his revenge. (To be continued.)