Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 September 1898 — WOMANS ERROR [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WOMANS ERROR

By Marion V. Hollis.

CHAPTER Vll—(Continued.) Among the other guests who were that Christmas so happy at Selwyn Castle was Lord Balecarres. Many people wondered he should be there at all, for his lordship had not the best of reputation where pretty women were concerned. He was nothing wosse than a flirt, but be was a flirt of the yery first water. Christmas found my lord at Selwyn Castle, and the charm that kept him there was the sweet, simple, naive beauty of Lady Violante. He gloried in paying her homage. No sight on earth was so pleasant to him as to watch the rich crimson flushing her face, to wateh the beautiful blushes mantling to the very edge of the golden hair, to watch the eyes that would fain haTe flashed indignation, but took in the end a beseeching, piteous expression. One evening, dinner was over, and the visitors had all assembled in the drawing room. Lady Talmis was singing, and had drawn together a charmed, audience. tJoine of the elders were at whist, Others at chess. Lady Violante, only too happy to see every one engaged, and to find herself at leisure, had taken up her atation by the aide of a small table. , She was joined there in a few minutes by Beatrice Leigh, who wished to arrange about some dancing. Before they had been talking two minntes Lord Balecarres joined them. “I hope I am not intruding,” he said, “but I remained at the other end of the room until I dould bear it nO longer. May"

I sit here, Lady Selwyn?" A woman of the world would have had her answer ready; a few bright, quick, witty words, a slight exchange of repartee, and all would have ended. Violante'a face flushed. She was at a loss what to any. Then tny lord drew from his pocketbook a small folded envelope. • “See, Lady Violante,” he said; “I have copied these verses for you.” She would have liked best,not to notice It, but he held up the paper, and she was compelled to take it. “They are love verses,” he said, sentimentally; but Lady Violante put an end to his sentiment by tearing the envelope In two, and throwing it away. It was not perhaps very well bred, it was certainly not polite, but it was the action of an honest-hearted girl tired of silly compliments. Lard Bnleoarres looked up suddenly, with a gleam of animation on his handsome, inane face. “That is too cruel,” he .said. “What have my poor little verses done. Lady Violante? Ahl I see, lam intruding. You will be kinder to me to-morrow, perhaps.” He turned away, and Beatrice, with haughty, cold face nud curling lips, looked down on the flushed features of the young girl. 9 “For Vivian’s sake, Lady Violante,” Beatrice said, “it would be as well to refrain from such exhibitions of temper. You expose your husband as well as yourself to ridicule.” “What is it?’.’ asked Vivian, who bad Joined them, unseen, and was looking in amazement from one to the other. Up rose Violante and told her story. Lord Baleearres was always either talking nonsense or writing it, and she was tired of it. Although Vivian sympathized with his wife, he was rather scandalized at the outbreak, as Beatrice described it. With a look that rankied in his mind, one of deep pity for him. Miss Leigh went away, leaving them together. “My dearest Violante,” he said, “if you would but try a little more—if you would but abandon some of your old-fashioned, old-world notions—and do as others do, you would make me so happy.” “I shall never allow any man to forget that I am a married lady, or to make love to me!” she cried. His face grew dark,. “How can you mistake me so, Violante?” he said angrily. “If any man dared to do as you say, I would thrash him like a lashed hound. You mistake. Lord Baleearres is, in plain English, a ‘fool.’ Pray pardon the word. Women of the world know how to keep such men In their place, without any such exhibition ns this.” He was vexed with her that she did not understand the difference between this merely fashionable nonsensical trifling and reality. , She was angry with him, think'ing that he was indifferent on a subject on which she felt strongly. She turned awgr, the dark tender eyes full of tears, and so the first cloud fell between them.

CHAPTER VIII. The bells of Thornleigh Church pealed out merrily—their sweet chime seemed to cheer and gladden the air; they rang out quaint old melodies, they clashed as though in triumph, they made merry, they dropped down sweet music, they repeated over and over again the self-sar>e glorious harmony, and all because the heir of Selwyn was born. It was a bright May morning, the sun shining on land and sea, the birds all singing of their love for each other, the flowers all blooming, the chestnuts budding, the hawthorn in full perfume; all nature smiling and bright; and to Lady Violante, holding her little son in her arms, it seemed as though the world had never been so bright before. The May sunbeams peeped into the room where she lay with the little boy in her arms, and Lord Vivian Selwyn, as he looked, thought he had never seen so fair a picture as she, with her pale, sweet face and white lace draperies, presented. All the love he felt for the faiwhaired young girl was as nothing: to! the warm, deep devotion that filled hU heart for Tjis wife —me mother of his child. '■ , She bid waked to sde him, because she .hftdaoipething so especial to say, and Lord Vlvfah had gdhd tip Into her room, the clash of* the gay "bells waging la his ea ioice, "i “What is the favor, Violante?” he ask-

ed. “1 am like King Ahasuerus; ask for what you will—the half of my kingdom is yours. What more do you want?” “My own way, in this instance,” she said, “over baby. I should like so much to call him Horace, after my father. Horace Selwyn would be a beautiful name, I think. If anything could make me love my baby better it would be calling him by my father’s name. Are you willing, Vivian?” But the fond, eager look had died from Lord Vivian’s face, and-a great look of perplexity came there. The clear eyes looking into bis noted it. “It would please papa so much,” she said; “he would think it both a compliment arid an honor that the heir of the Selwyns should be named after him." She spoke this time in a pleading v«re, hard to resist. “My darling,” said Vivian gently, “you know' that we have certain names that belong to our family—Huldibrand, 1 iviSn, Rupert, Hugh; we never care to ingraft n«Pw names on the family tree.” ‘‘But my father’s name —there could sorely be no objection to that? Horace! —it sounds well,' and there been some grand men of that name in the world. Can you not promise me, Vivian?” "The fact is, darling,” he said gentiy, “that Beatrice and my mother have already talked about this matter. Beatrice declares that-this wonderful boy of yours resembles one of our ancestors. Sir Rupert Selwyn, a cavalier in King Charles’ time,' who was famous for his loyalty and his chivalry. Oar boy could resemble no better man.” She was but a. simple, loving child, pure and tender of heart, slow to think evil, inclined by the goodness of her nature to all that was noble; but at thos& words something like a pang of jealousy came to her. "My baby is my own,” she said. “It is not Miss Leigh’s Promise me. What have Mrs. Selwyn or Miss Leigh to do with my baby?—what hnve they to do with it? Surely, Vivian, we can please ourselves. You could not lightly put aside my wish to gratify Miss Leigh.” But, as ninny another mnii has done before him, Lord Vivian parried a'question he could not decide.. He was .bravo by nature, kindly of heart, this handsome young master of Selwyn Castle; but he was weak and impressionable, easily, led, and somewhat apt to be ruled by women of strong will, as brave men often are. So he kissed Lady Violante’s flushed face aud sweet, questioning eyes., 11c would not see that they were half filled with tears. He kissed the soft cheek nestled like a tender little bird. “Do not trouble, Violante,” he said; "I will see about it.” So he went away, and in some vague manner all the sunshine of the May morning went with him. The gay bells no longer seemed full of music, the harmony had gone from them. Lady Violante turned to the little one lying in her arms, and, bending her face over him, wept bitter tears. Lord Vivian found his mother and Miss Leigh in the picture gallery, Beatrice looking imperially beautiful in a long, sweeping dress of black velvet made after a picturesque fashion all her own. “I have just been to see Violante,” he said, “and she wishes very much to give our young heir her father’s name. What do you think, mother? Horace Selwyn would'not sound badly.” Beatrice Leigh turned to him . with flaming eyes. “If I were you, my child should be called after the heroes of his race," she said. “I quite agree with Beatrice,” said Mrs. Selwyn slowly. “Mr. Temple is a most respectable man, I am sure, but I do not think your eldest sou should bear his name, Vivian.” “I should like to have pleased Violante,” he said, somewhat wistfully.

CHAPTER IX. In the drawing room of Thornieigh House, in BelgravliF, London, a group of three ladies stood, holding anxious consultation over a magnificent diamond tiara. Mrs. Selwyn held it in her hands, Lady Violante shrank as though half alarmed at it, and Beatrice Leigh stood by with a smile on her face—a cold, hard smile, in which there was nothing of friendly interest. “I think it very beautiful, Violante,” said Mrs. Selwyn; “I cannot imagine why you object to it.” “Lady Selwyn would probably prefer a wreath of daisies or wild flowers,” said ,Mlsb Leigh. “That I should!” cried Lady Violante, “Such magnificent ornnmeints as that tiara frighten me!” “But,” remonstrated Mrs. Selwyn, “you must dress according to your rank, and you must wear such jewels as your husband’s position entitles you to wear. Do you not understand?’ “Yes,” she replied wearily. “I quits understand,” but the golden head drooped and the fair face grew sad. “Then,” said Mrs. Selwyn, “you had better decide upon this. I like it better than anything we have seen. Here is Vivian; let us have the. benefit of his taste.” He joined the little group with a smile on his dark, handsome face. Mrs. Selwyn continued: “Stoir & Mortimer have sent the tiara you ordered, and I think it simply magnificent.” “Is Violante pleased?” he asked eagerly, turning to his wife. She made no reply. Mrs. Selwyn spoks for her. “Violante thinks it too—too graod, 1 suppose!” Lord Vivian laughed, ;jj , “My simple darling,” he said, “whan will jqu ieara to loye grandeur? ft dot ope whit tpo Vegutlfdl for you. the j swell on earth were strung upon ons string, 1 should stMl think them rinworthTNdrt beins« offered |to grotx” and he touched the white brow with his lips. AD this discussion arose from the fact

that Lord Vivian Selwyn, with the .ladies of his household, had come up to London to spend the season there, and it had been decided that Lady Selwyn and Miss Leigh shdhld be presented at the drawing room to be held on the fourth of June. The morning of the day Lady Violante had dreaded so long dawned at last, bright and beautiful, with sunshine that reminded one of the scent of roses and mignonette—warm and invigorating. The sky was clear and blue as the heaven that smiles on sunny Italy. Lady Violaate awoke with a sigh; the day she had feared had dawned, and must somehow be got through. They were in the library, ready at last, and Vivian, as he looked on the two ladies before him, felt proud as he had never done before. Mrs. Selwyn had declin-. ed going, aud her grace the Duchess of Roxminster was to present Lady Selwyn to the Queen. They were dressed uow, and waiting. Lady Violante looked, in her delicate loveliness, like “the queen of the lilies;” her dress of what Lord Vivian called May sunbeams, and her tiara of diamonds, with the white plumes, suited her to perfection. She tried to reassure herself, but the small jeweled bauds trembled and the sweet lips half quivered as they smiled. Court dress suited the imperial beauty of Beatrice Leigh as no other did. Mrs. Selwyn had presented her with a magnificent suite of diamonds and rubies. Her dress wa6 of maize-colored velvet, and the rich, sweeping train was no trouble to her. One could see at a glance that she was at home and well at ease. The white waving plumes added to her patrician beauty. She was herself well satisfied when she saw Vivian’s eyes rest admiringly on her. They stood at last in one of the anterooms, and there her < 1 race of Roxminster was waiting for-an introduction to them. Mfafi Leigh had known the duchesS for some time. To Lady Selwyn she was a complete stranger. There had been one or two appointments made for an introduction, but her grace's engagements had prevented the keeping pf them. When she, Lady Violante Selwyn, stood face to face with the Duchess of Roxmfnster, it was with difficulty she repressed the cry of astonishment that rose to her lips. An old woman of sixty dressed like a blushing" girl of eighteen —excessively decollete; a diamond necklace round a thin, withered neck; a diamond bracelet round a shrunken arm; false hair, wreathed with, jewels and plumesr false teeth gleaming whife through the thin lips; painted cheeks and penciled Lady \ iolante involuntarily wondered what was false and what was not. Her grace was always envious of new beauties. The younger they were the less she liked them. To Beatrice Leigh's superb beauty she was accustomed, therefore indifferent; the splrduelle, TsnU’entl hnciiueflß qf Lady Selwyn annoyed her. She rdspbuded most graciously to the 'uitroductioji. ‘;*] ' “You artvyounger than I expected,, she said to Lady Violante. "11 hen-I was younger, I took the lend among blonde beauties — a place you will occupy now, 1 suppose. There are few blonde belles nowadays.” “It is a place I should not care to occupy,’’ said Lady Violante. with a smile. “Ah, indeed!” said her grace; “simple habits, and all that kind of thing, 1 suppose; sorry I cannot sympathize with you. I lilce what is called ‘life.’ ” She shrugged the bare, lean shoulders, and looked at Miss Leigh for approval. Then they passed on with the crowd, aud Lady Violante’s heart beat fast. The best remark one could make bn the subject of her presentation was, that it wifs not n success. In after years lier face burned to remember it; and the worst of it was, she knew that her failure was related to Lord Vivian with malicious detail. y “I could not have imagined, Lady Selwyn. that you would have been so awkward,” said the duchess, when they stood together waiting for the carriage. “You seemed to lose your senses altogether. Do you know you hardly replied when her majesty made that kind remark to you. “I was frightened," said the young girl. “I tried to remember ail that I had been told, but it died out of my mind.” “Leaving you afrnid,” interruri'd her grace. "I am not afraid,” said Lady Violante. “They would see I was frightened.” ‘.“Ah, yes, ma chere,” interrupted the duchess again; “but women of the world know no such fear.” An almost passionate cry rose to her lips—a wish that she had never undertaken to be that which she dreaded most of all—a woman of the world. She saw by her husband’s face that he knew she had failed. It was darker and more stern than she had ever seen it before. He made no remark. She almost wished he would hnve done so; but ofteuer than ever he wished in his heart that Violante could be more like Beatrice Leigh. “It is niy own fault,” said Lady Violante to herself, ns she walked alone through the long, dimly lighted conservatory. “I knew that my world and his Were different; that I could never be all his wife ought to be, and I should not have married him; it is my own fault.” (To bo continued.)