Jasper County Democrat, Volume 2, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 November 1899 — BETWEEN TWO LOVES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

BETWEEN TWO LOVES

BY CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME.

CHAPTER VI. if -It was drawing near noon. Some of 'fie teen had sought the coolness of the . billiard room; some of the ladies had retired to the shade of the great cedar tree, /with books and work. Leah had gone to •Iter favorite spot, the terrace, where the fluseion flowers grew in such profusion. She smiled as she gathered some of the flowers, remembering the name “passion•flower” had been given to herself.^ Then her thoughts went to Hettie, who had loved the sweet white lilies best. ’How different life would be if that beloved sister were here, how doubly precious this grand domain if Hettie shared it! jn the gleaming light on the river, in the fire of the scarlet passion-flower, in the flowers of the gay parterre, she saw the sweet, fair face with its aureole of golden hair. Would they ever meet again? Abruptly she saw Sir Arthur standing close to her, a stranger by his aide. “Leah," said the general, “our neighbor, Sir Basil Carlton, has been kind 'enough to waive ceremony and call upon us first. Sir Basil, my adopted daughter - snd dear uiece, Miss Hatton.” A great hush, a great calm came over her. She saw a noble face, full of fire 4Htd impetuosity; she saw dark eyes and (Straight brows, a firm mouth, dark clusters of hair, and a dark mustache. Yet beauty was not the chief charm of , the face; courage and dauntless truth shone there. Most people, when they first met Sir Basil Carlton, were struck by his handsome features and manly bearing, but they were attracted even more when the eyes took a tender light nnd the mouth a smile as sweet as any woman’s, “I like England better than Italy,” said Sir Basil, suddenly, after a few remarks. “You caunot think what a picture you made, Miss Hatton, standing against this -background of foliage and flowers.” “You have been in Italy for many years?” she said, quietly. He drew just a little nearer to her. A great, trailing spray of passion-flowers lay between them; he raised it, nnd she .thought to herself how strange a coincidence it was that she should see him with iher favorite blossoms in his hand. “I was a boy of eleven when I went away,” he said, “and now I am twentyfive. Coming home is a very melancholy event for me, as you perhaps know.” “Yes; we have heard the cause of your mother’s departure from England—and a very painful one it was, Sir Basil,” said the general. Leah looked up at him; all her soul shone in her eyes. “Let us help you to forget the shadow which has fallen over your house and your life,” she said; and his face brightened.” “I shall be only too happy, Miss Hatton. I dreaded my return. I remembered the Glen as one of the loveliest of homes. I have longed to be here. Yet the memory of that night will never leave me.” His whole face changed. “My mother lived fifteen years after the accident happened; but the shock her system had received killed her at last.” Leah’s dark eyes, full of interest and sympathy, filled with tears; and, as he saw them, his heart warmed to her. How long it was since any one had shed tears for this old sorrow of his! "It must have been a terrible shock for you both,” said Leah. “Yes; I was only a boy, but I worshiped my sister. You cannot tell how deeply attached I was to her. I think the love of a sister is one of the greatest joys on earth.” Why did the fair face near him grow so pale? Why did the graceful figure shrink and tremble, the hand that held the scarlet flowers suddenly fall nerveless and helpless? Was it another coincidence that he should value so highly a sister’s love? “If I were in your place, Basil,” said the general, “I would have plenty of friends about me. Stay with us to-day, and to-morrow we will drive over and see your gardens and conservatories. We have a pleasant party, and I think you will enjoy .yourself.” He looked at Leah. “I shall be delighted,” she said, simply, a faint flush dyeing her face. “80 shall I,” replied Sir Basil. And that was how the first day of Leah Hatton’s earthly paradise began. As the days passed on, the intimacy between Leah and the baronet increased. The general grew warmly attached to Sir Basil. He said—what was a great thing for him to say—that, if heaven had blessed him with a son, he should have liked him to resemble Sir Basil. Ail the visitors—and they were many—admired and Uked him; he was a general favorite, and he spent far more of his time at Brentwood than at Glen. It happens so often that a great love Is lavished in vain. Sir Basil saw nothing of Leah’s. He admired her exceedingly, but he never dreamed of loving her., The duchess, who had said to herself that she would not interfere, did just this one thing—she told Sir Basil of rhe splendid triumphs that Leah had achieved, and how she had passed through three such seasons as few even of the most brilliant beauties had ever experienced. She told him of the offers of marriage made to her, and how she had refused them all. “Why did she refuse them?” he asked. The duchess meant to do a kindly action when she answered: “She has ideas that are peculiar for the nineteenth centnry; they are, I may say, obsolete.” He looked anxiously at her, she thought. “What Ideas?” he asked—“if my question may be answered?” “I am sore I may answer it,” said the duchess. “Miss Hatton has romantic kfcsa* that are quite out of date. Marriage in these days is an arrangement. Site might have been Dachas of Bartic, and will never marry until she can marry for love.”

“That seems to me right,” said Sir Basil. "I am glad you think so,” returned the duchess, dryly. “But Miss Hatton has another theory. It is this—that for every person in this world there are one love and one lover—half souls, she calls them, if you can understand the term. She believes that she will recognise her half soul, or lover, whenever she sees him.” . “It is a very pretty theory,” said Sir Basil. “I do not see why any one should object to it.” He looked at her somewhat eagerly as he asked: “And has she met this ideal yet?” “That is a question she alone can answer. You must ask her yourself,” laughed the duchess; and she smiled to herself as she thought she had given him a very plain hint. The young baronet was far too modest to take it; that such a peerless beauty, such a wealthy heiress, should fall in love and find her ideal in him never occurred to him. If she had rejected many noble and great men, she was doubtless looking for some one higher. Yet what he had heard increased his affection and respect for her. He liked the idea of a girl who could make to herseif an ideal, and wait patiently until she met with it. How many would have yielded to the temptation of rank and wealth, and have forgotten the belief and aspirations of early girlhood!

CHAPTER VII. The Duke and Duchess of Roscdene, with their visitors, were at Dene Abbey, within sight and sound of the ever-mur-muring sea. Miss Hatton had the whole day to herself; she had no great household to manage as at Brentwood, she had no care abopt the entertainment of visitors; the long, bright hoars were hers, to spend as she would. Lady Maude Trevar had gladly accepted the duchess’ invitation; but pretty May Luson had promised to pay a visit elsewhere, and could not break her engagement. The military element had dispersed. Sir Basil Carlton had been delighted with her grace’s proposal to join the party at the Abbey. He lik»<l the duchess; her kindly manner pleased him; he was touched by her kindness to himself, although he did not know the cause. He did not go with the party from Brentwood, but he followed them in a few days. It was a wonderful change from the green, sweet woodlands of Warwickshire to the country bordering on a sunny southern sea. Leah was more shy and timid with Basil than she had been at Brentwood. She avoided him a little, but loved him just as much. She would have gone through fire and water for him; she would have made any sacrifice for him. The marvel was that the youug baronet never dreamed of the conquest he had made. As for Leah, she had not yet begun to doubt; she felt certain that his love would be hers in the fullness of time. Sir Arthpr Hatton was a stranger to all fair love-dreams and sweet fancies./That he should understand a nature or a love like Leah’s was not to be expected; but he was one day the unwilling witness of a little scene that opened his eyes. In the library stood a large Japanese screen, and Sir Arthur enjoyed nothing more than placing this round one of the great bay windows and intrenching himself therein with his newspaper. One morning there was some Indian news in the Times which interested him greatly—letters written by fellow officers whose opinions he valued highly. He wished to be undisturbed; so he betook himself to his favorite retreat. He found the library cool and empty; the sun blinds were all drawn, the light was dim and pleasant. He placed the screen around his favorite window. “Thank goodness,” he said to himself, “that I shall now be able to read in peace!” Fate was against him this morning. The door opened. It was Leah who appeared. She was in her favorite colors of amber and white, with creamy roses at her throat. She did not observe the screen, much less wonder if anyone were behind it. For ten minutes there was almost complete silence. Sir‘Arthur could hear the sound of Leah’s pen. She was writing rapidly. Then, suddenly, the door opened, and Sir Arthur’s smothered groan was lost in the voice of the speaker. “Shall I disturb you. Miss Hatton?” It was Sir Basil who put the question. “I am in trouble, from which a lady alone can release me.” “I am glad you sought me,” she said. “What can I do for you?” “There is an old proverb which says that ‘a stitch in time saves nine.’ Will you make that first stitch now, and save the nine hereafter, Miss Hatton?” “Of course I will,” she replied. “Where is the stitch needed?” “In this driving glove,’ ’he replied; “the button is nearly off. Would you be so good as to fasten it?” Leah laughed blithely. “Certainly,” she said, as she took the thick yellow driving glove that he held to her. “Will you excuse me one minute while I find needle and thread?” she added. She went away, leaving Sir Basil looking over an open Tolume that lay upon the table. “I hope,” thought the general to himself, “that this good fellow will not find me out, and begin to air his ideas on Indian politics to me.” Bqt Sir Basil was In happy Ignorance of the general’s proximity. He read a few lines in the open volume, ,hnmmed a favorite air to himself, and then Leah returned. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said. "I will release you now in a fsw minutes.” i The slender fingers soon accomplished their task. She held out the glove to hiss, and as she did so her eyes fell on the spray of stephanotis that he wore la

tim that It is sulucky to wear fatal “By all means replace it, if you will be good enough,” be responded. She took the spray of stephaaada from Mm and laid it upon the tablet From one of the vasea she chose a beantifnl moasrose bod, fresh as the dawn, and fastened It in his coat for him. He thanked her briefly, stood talking to her for some few minutes, and then went away. Sir Arthur, looking over the screen, was •bout to thank heaven that he was gone; bat no word came from Ms lips—he was stricken dumb. What was she doing—Ms proud, beautiful niece—whose love no man had been able to win, whose smiles bad been sought as a priceless boon? She bad never seemed to care for love or admiration, for lovers or marriage. She had moved through the brilliant world like an icemaldefi. What was she doing? She had taken the vitkdvd flower in her bands, and was kneeling down fay the table and covering the faded spray with kisses and tears. “Oh, my love,” she sighed, “my love, if .yon only loved me! Bat I am less to yon than the withered flower yon have thrown away.” The general would have spoken then and have let Leah know that he had overheard her, bat surprise and wonder kept him silent. He saw her kiss the open volume where Sir Basil's hand had rested. “I shall die,” she sobbed, “just as this flower has died, and jnst as far from his heart! Oh, cruel world! I have asked but for one thing, and it has been denied me. I wish I had never been born. Oh, my love, why can yon not love me? lam fair enough for others, why not for yon? I can win other hearts, why not yours? I would give luy life for yoar love!” The low, smothered sound of her bitter sobbing mingled with the song of the birds and the whisper of the wind; it smote the heart of the old soldier with unutterable pain. He had rescued her front what he thought a shameful life, adopted hei> and given her Ms love and protection; he had made her heiress of his vast fortune; and this was all that had come of it, this was the end of all Ms hopes for her. She was wearing her heart and her life away for a love that could never be hers, or at least that was not hers. From the sight of the kneeling figure, the clasped hands, the proud head so despairingly bent, the general turned with tears in his eyes. “If I could out die,” she said to herself, “and be at rest; if I could bat sleep and never wnke; if I could bat hide my love and sorrow and pain!” He was tempted to go to her, to take her in his arms and try to comfort her; but a sense of forbade Mm. She was so prond and sensitive, what would she think or feel if she knew that he had possession of her secret? Yet the bitter, long-drawn sobs fell on Ms ear and tortured him. He could not help her. He would not for the world let her know that he had overheard her; so he laid down his newspaper and passed noiselessly out through the open window on to the lawn, and not until he had walked some little distance did he feel at ease. “I would not haTe her guess that I have been a witness of that scene for treble my fortune, poor child!” he murmured. (To be continued.)