Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 September 1898 — I ERROR'S [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

I ERROR'S

By Marion V. Hollis

CHAPTER VI. Mrs. Selwyn and Beatrice Leigh sat in the grand drawing room of Selwyn Castle, awaiting the bride., Lord Vivian had written to say that he should bo at home on the evening of the ninth of November. He requested, too, that there should be no public welcome, “no gathering of the clans”; that only a few of the upper servants should be told of his return, for his wife, he said, was timid, and unused to all demonstration. ”A new kind of Lady Selwyn!” said Beatrice Leigh, with "curling lips. “You have had all kinds of heroines—brave women, warlike women, who have held the Castle against a siege; diplomatic wortten who have played the role of einbassadress, women with a mission, who have been the life of the Tories. A timid Lady Sehvyu will be a novelty In the family annals." “We must make the best of it,” said Mrs. Selwyn, plaintively. “To tell the truth, Beatrice, I do really begin to feel nervous as the time draws near, 1 hope she will not be very much amiss. Vivian seems its infatuated as ever.” “Let us hope his infatuation may last,” •aid Beatrice. "It will be sorry days for Vivian when it wears away, and he understands the reality.” Beatrice Leigh had made her resolve; •he had whispered no vow of vengeance to herself; she had not ranted like a tragedy queen; she had not. even to her own •elf, whispered the Word “revenge.” None the less skillfully had she made her plans. Nothing kills love like ridicule, and she said to herself that under the guise of friendly liking she would be merciless to Vivian's wife; she would never spare her; she would lay traps to draw out and expose her ignorance, her want of •avoir vivie; she had resolved to make Vivian writhe again under the infliction, while all the time she preserved the friendliest face and the kindliest smiles. “Then we shall see what comes,” she •aid to herself; “he will soon tire of his gauche village love, a girl who had nothing but a pretty face. Then the law is kind, and there will be ways and means of getting i-id of her, were she twenty times Lady Selwyn.” So deeply was Miss Leigh engrossed in her thoughts that she did not hear the arrival of the carriage, or anything else, until the door opened, and Mrs. Selwyn uttered a faint cry of astonishment. Then Beatrice Leigh raised her-eyes, and they rested on a vision so radiant in youth, •nd beauty, and grace, that her face grew pale with jealous envy as she gazed. Lord Vivian entered first, and he led by the hand, as one leads a shrinking, frightened child, a beautiful girl, a girl whose movements Were soft and harmonious, whose figure was all grace and symmetry—even the traveling costume of velvet and fur could not conceal it —whose face, in its bright, shy. dimpled beauty, was wondrous to behold. Lord Vivian led her proudly to his mother. “Mother,” he said, in his grave, chivalrous fashion, “the happiest hour of my life is this, in which I bring to you my wife.” Mrs. Selwyn’s face flushed; then a voice, clear and soft as the sweetest music, said: “My own mother has been in heaven so long. 1 hardly remember her; will you let me give you the love I should have given her?” And before she could answer, two tender arms were clasped round her neck, sweet. warm lips touched her face, leaving her at a loss what to say or do. She had intended to be very stately; to •how Lady Selwyn that dignity was before ease, but the loving touch of those •weet lips disarmed her. Nature will •peak occasionally; when she does so, no be deaf to her voice. So all Mrs. Selwyn’s grand resolves ended in her saying. “Y ou are welcome home, my daughter.” • Then her voice faltered, and she kissed the sweet face with tears in her eyes. “Beatrice,” said Vivian, "let me introduce you to my wife.” Miss Leigh executed a stately courtesy that would have done honor to Marie Antoinette for its imperial grace. Again it was'wasted dignity. Violante went up to her softly and Very shyly. “I am so glad to see you,” she said earnestly. "I hope-yoit will like me. Vivian has talked so much of you.” “Violante is a "true child of nature,” said Lord Selwyn laughingly; “she hopes you will like her, Beatrice, and she is not •shamed to say so.” Do as she would, Miss Leigh could not repress the sarcastic smile that curled her beautiful lips. “Lady Selwyn does me infinite honor,” •be said. Then Vivian laughed again. “What a society Speech, Beatrice,” he ■aid; “you will frighten my little wife.” Violante looked from one to the other with some trepidation. “I—l hope I have not said anythin; wrong,” she stammered, her face blushing crimson. “Truly it seems so natural when one comes to live with fresh people, to ask for liking." “Natural! Yes,” said Miss Leigh; “that la what amused me. This is such an arti-fk-inl world.” And for the first time Lord Vivian looked at his wife, and wondered whether the ■atural, simple manner that he had always thought so charming,- was, after all, ■ defect. “Now,” said Mrs. Selwyn, “I am sure yea must require both rest and refreah■seut, Lady Selwyn.” The girl looked up at her with a sudden, half-wistful glance. “Do not call me Lady Selden,” she said <»“ ’dy; “my name is Violante;” I, M must try to remember U,” said Mrs. •jplwyn, coldly. “It is ndt an English ■Mine, I think; I do not remember to have beard it before.” 1 “It is the moat musical name in the world,” interrupted Vivian. “Now, my darling, you will not have much time for dtressiug. Mind. Violante," he whispered, “a recherche toilet. You must not let Miss Leigh eclipse you.”

“A recherche toilet," thought the young girt “Ah, then I had better wear satin and diamonds.” She tried to remember what Miss Leigh wore, but she had been too much excited to notice. She retained only a vivid impression that the lady in question looked beautiful and graceful. She teased her maid, and perplexed herself. It turned out after all that the maid’s ideas were better than the mistress’. “Indeed, my lady," said the waiting woman, “of course your ladyship knows best, but I think white satin and diamonds out of place at a small family dinner; it is not as though there was a party. I lived with'Lady Hemyng, and she never was in full dress on such occasions.” Usually Violante, Lady Selwyn, profited by Pauline’s hints, but now she said hurriedly: “Ixird Selwyn wishes it. You do not understand.” So the polished shoulders and the beautiful neck were bared. The slender, girlish figure was robed in white satin that might have done for a court dress; a suite of magnificent diamonds completed a toilet admirably suited for a state ball or a grand fete, but quite out of place at a small family dinner.” , Violante was in blissful ignorance; she looked at herself in the large mirror, and thought with a smile of girlish pride in her own beauty, that she should surely eclipse Miss She was somewhat startled on entering the drawing room at the difference between herself and the two ladies waiting there. She looked at Miss Leigh’s dress. It was of rich, simple black lace, drawn up around the white throat, and relieved by a few “rich red rubies;” the beautiful shoulders gleamed like marble through the lace; it was twice as effective as any low dress could ever be; and it suddenly flashed across Lady Selwyn that in choosing white satin and diamonds she bad made a great mistake. The consciousness that she mad made a mistake caused Violante to lose much of the grace that was natural to her. “Will they notice it?—will even the servants laugh?’ she thought to herself. Mrs. Selwyn looked in calm disapproval of the gorgeous toilet. “I am afraid you will be disappointed, Lady Selwyn,” she said. "You evidently expect visitors, and by Vivian's wish we are quite alone." The fair young face flushed so deeply that Mrs. Selwyn could not pursue the subject. She did not understand why, but she saw that her daughter-in-law was ill at ease. Nor did Violante feel much more comforted when Vivian entered the room, and opened his eyes in wonder at her dazzling splendor, then glanced quickly at the quiet, graceful figure of Miss Leigh. There was a smile on the haughty, beautiful lips of that young lady, that made the young wife, she scarce knew why, uncomfortable. “Dinner is served.” said the butler, and then they went to the dining room, Lady Violante detesting the rustling flow of her rich white satin as she swept along. The dining room was a superb apart-ment-large, lofty, brilliantly lighted; the huge sideboards were one blaze of gold and silver plate; the table was magnificently set out; servants in livery were all in attendance. 'Hie young girl, to whom this was all new and strange, felt her heart sink within her, and longed for the familiar aspect of home.

There was a chair at the head of the table and one at the foot. For a moment, there was some-little embarrassment, then Mrs. Selwyn said: “Lady Violante, will you take your place?’ It was no wonder that, dazzled by the unusual splendor, she shrank back, and said timidly: “Oh, no; pray not now. Indeed, I would rather not.” Again that qniet smile on Miss Leigh’s face, and Vivian looked at his wife with a slight expression of impatience. “Pray be seated, Violante,” he said; “of course my mother would not dream of taking yonr place.” Already nervous with the conviction of the mistake she had made over her dress; confused, and afraid she bad erred still more by her hesitation in accepting her rightful place, the young girl sat down, and the dinner began. It would have been kinder under the circumstances to have allowed her to have her own way, and to have sat quietly by, until the routine became familiar to her. What should she know, poor child, of French dishes, of rare wines, of entrees? She, who had been accustomed to the little dining parlor at home and the attendance of one maid servant. She, who had herself superintended the cooking of the homely little dinners that pleased her father best. She grew awkwsrd and confused. She felt that she was not filling her place with the dignity suited to a Lady Selwyn. Her husband noticed it, and tried by kindly words and kindly smiles to put her more nt her ease. Yet, when be saw Miss Leigh's quiet eyes scrutinizing her, he felt his own face grow warm, and he half wished “Violante had been more formed.” There was another ordeal before her. The ladies withdrew, and she dreaded the prospect of an hoar’s tete-a-tete with the stately mother-in-law and the beautiful, haughty lady, whose dark, bright eyes seemed to read the secrets of all her little fears. She tried in her simple way to talk to them. Mrs. Selwyn was not unkind—she was too ladylike and well-bred to make the young girt feel the difference between them; bat it was not quite in human nature to get up all at once an affection for the one who had thwarted every plan and wish and hope of her life. Violante felt more and more humbled. Who was she, to take her place among •ueb brilliant and accomplished ladies? How was she to hold her own? She felt more like an ignorant, untrained school girl, than a* the mistress of that gorgeous home should feel. It «•» a relief to her whea the evening ■ tu’aA

“You made a little mistake to sight about the satin and diamonds, did you not, my darling?’ asked Vivian, when they were alone. She looked up at him with glistening eyes. “Oh, Vivlnn, I was so ashamed and so distressed,” she cried. “What would they think of me? But you told me a recherche toilet." “Recherche does not always mean decollete, or yet fine,” he replied; “it means what Miss Leigh’s dress was —distinguished, graceful and so contrived as to look beautiful without attracting attention.” “•When shall I learn all these things?” she said despairingly. “Oh, Vivian, it is hard to be a fine lady!” CHAPTER VII. The Christmas of that- year was a very gay one at the Castle. Lord Selwyn declared himself to be greatly in arrears over hospitality —he had given neither party nor fete worth naming since his accession to the title; all that must be altered now that he had a lovely wife to please and consult. So that Selwyn Castle became the very center of gaiety. Large relays of guests came from London, and once there, liked to remain. There were dinner parties, fetes, balls, charades and tableaux; the whole neighborhood seemed to be aroused, and one family vied with another as to who should be gayest. It was a new world for Lady Violante —a world she would have enjoyed excessively had she been a spectator instead of leader. She was very much admired, and much liked by all the guests. They thought her graceful and lovely; yet in some vague way, she never seemed to be the real mistress of the brilliant revels. If one put a question about the charades, the tableaux, the music or dresses, she had a way of raising her shy, sweet eyes and saying: “I do not know; pray ask Mrs. Selwyn or Miss Leigh.” With kindly encouragement Lady Selwyn might in time have taken courage and have learned to fulfill all the onerous duties of her station. As it was, she grew more-timid and more unfit for them every day. Then came another minor trouble—the incident upon which the strange event of her life .turned. Pauline, the maid who was engaged at her wedding to attend upon her, was suddenly obliged to return home, and Lady Selwyn had to advertise for another maid. Theresa Bowden pleased Lady Selwyn at first sight. She had a soft, graceful, pleasant manner, a clear voice, with a perfectly refined accent. She seemed anxious, too, and had brought with her some excellent testimonials. She had lived with Lady Dunrobin, whose sad death every one remembered; afterward the Countess of Strathmere, who l/aif gone abroad. “If you think I should be likely to suit you, my lady,” said the woman, “I will try so hard to do my duty. I would do anything almost for a home. lam one of the very few who are quite alone in the world. I have no relations living, and few friends.” These words afterward bore fruit. Lady Selwyn engaged her, and a week afterward Theresa Bowden was at the Castle.

Then, and for the first time, Beatrice Leigh saw her-. She entered Lady Violante’s room one morning with some message from Mrs. Selwyn, and saw the maid engaged, over her lady’s wardrobe. To send her from the room ou some slight pretext was but the work of a minute, nnd then Miss Leigh turned to Lady Selwyn with a smile that had in it a tinge of malice. “Is that your new maid?” she asked. “Yes,” was the reply. “She came yesterday, and she seems to understand her duties pretty well.” “I should never have engaged her,” said Miss Leigh emphatically. “Do you not perceive anything strange about her?” ‘No,” replied Lady Violante. “I thought her very pleasant and graceful in her manner.” “Do you not see,” cried Beatrice, "how much she is like you? Her hair is of the same shade, she is of the same height, the same complexion. It is a grave mistake to have engaged such a person. Only imagine what remarks people may make!” “I did not notice it—l never thought of it,” said Lady Violante, distressed and dismayed, as she always was when Miss Leigh found fault. “It cannot matter, though.” “That depends upon taste,” was the quiet reply. “For my part, I should not like a maid who might be mistaken for my sister.” Yet Lady Violante liked Theresa Bowden, and she remained at Selwyn Castle. Had she not done so, this story would never have been written. (To be continued.)