Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 20, Number 2, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 September 1898 — DOUBLY WEDDED [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

DOUBLY WEDDED

BY- CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME.

CHAPTER XII. Yea, Willie Macdonald was in love. But 'fee little dreamed that others had begun, it nut to suspect, to wonder what was moat with him. Am dor Lilith, her life was almost that -of m. toad under a harrow. She could not ‘to lag herself to find out what she thought, •or feared, or felt. At last came a day vrbea she was wound up to the pitch of She had slept badly, and, getting up •early, went into the garden. It was a Tresh, sweet morning, albeit autumnal. ''The shrubbery was deepening to red, gold aH shades of brown. Lilith went •thoughtfully along the gravel paths, when r-ohe stopped short. Willie was leaning against a tree, shading his eyes with his hands; his eyes were riveted upon Mrs. Ifetw's windows. He started os Lilith -oaaae near, and his look of gladness fled. ‘iflfc, I beg your pardon—it is you!” he said awkwardly. Hob he turned, and prepared to walk r hgr Lilith’s side. “Yea, it is I,” she said sharply; “but I did not come to ask you to walk with aae?" and she turned round brusquely and .walked away. filer heart was full. She had to confront /•ate Ml the bitter truths of her young life. "Foal that I have been,” she said to tourself, clinching her teeth and turning he* 1 rage against herself—“fool not to 'have seen it all before! He loves her. "Tbotb— *that boy”—she paused and thought tsanoorou&ly of his youth—“that boy dares to love my mother! It is preposterous, horrible, unnatural! It must be stopped .before she knows it.” Them she clinched her hot hands and •made brave resolutions. He must never •ftasw —she must never know. But the ■Boner Willie could be coaxed to go the batter That quarter of an hour spent •fey Lilith in the wigwam that morning vm a cruel one. But, as she quietly mmr oat and composedly returned to the houae, there was the sense of a victory tpuaed stilling the quick beating of her wild heart. Breakfast over, Willie strolled into the ; hail, his hands in his pockets. He felt •aaoettled. The plans for the day were qmiulir made at breakfast. But Lilith’s peculiar manner this morning in the garden had given him a shock. He went eagerly out upon the terrace. ''Sbe great white vases with the heavy ; green aloes stood out against the sky as they crowned the stone balustrades. Then be went down a grass-grown path botween the tall laurels, a path that led to the wy ewam under the poplar trees. Tie wigwam—a thatched hut, open in Trout opposite a cutting in the hedge which fraWd a sweet picture of smiling, . fertile and fields—was furnished - with a hammock, a rustic table, and light • easy chair s—ftwooden frames slung with 'fasm. Willie came upon this suddenly; -and, as his eyes sought the dark interior, be hardly realised that the recumbent figure in the hammock was that of Mrs. .Drew. Sfc stood for a moment, fearing, won/dering, abashed. As his eyes grew aecus- • Corned to the dimness within the wigwam be *aw the lovely little head perched on a -cushion, the perfect profile he had dreamed of when asleep, and had watched with admiration while awake, standing out i against, the background of the dark wood•ea wal Las if molded in alabaster. He saw that the queen of his heart was there, alone, asleep. lie stepped noisily up the step, his riding boots clattering up the wooden floor -of the wigwam. Lillian sprang up in the hammock; her blue eyes were dazed with sleep. She supported herself by one of her fair hands, The other went up to rub her eyes. '“Oh—dear —me!” she said drowsily. Then sense and memory grew clearer. "I have been —asleep. It is you—Mr. Macdonald!” She gave one surprised look .-at Willie, then slipped down aud stood ■ «ipgponice him. “I lay down to think out . a vexed question—a regular problem \ which has been bothering me,” she said, -with a smile und a blush; “aud, instead •of thinking, I fell asleep. Oh, dear, I have been dreaming, too! Where is Liltth?" she added, with sudden alarm. “Where is the child? I remember now! 1 I dreamed that she had fallen off her l horse—l saw that chestnut mare of hers ••cantering about on her hind legs, pawing • the 4»ir. You are sure she 1b all right?” • atoe went on, forgetting her confusion at •having been found thus by Willie in her anxiety about Lilith. "Where Is she?” WilUie speedily calmed her fears, ex--plaining that Lilith had gone to the rectory, accompanied by Mr. ltnwsou himaeU. Mrs. Drew sank into a chair with a flittle sigh of relief. Willie sat hiuiself •■.decidedly down upon the rustic table. "We have louds of time,’’ he said determinedly. “Mrs. Drew," he added firmer, “I came here to have a talk with you, aud vqwalt I nniHt." She gave him one curious, inquiring 'look, then seated herself, her heart sink- > og just a little. "Yes?” she said doubtfully, looking grove. All the brightness bad faded from her Thee at the very idon of his having "a talk" with her. Willie’s hopes—whatever they might he were disconcerted at the •wry outset. "Lilith acts as if I ought to go back to rLnudon," he began awkwardly, “so 1 eunr to ask you if you had counuissiouod her to give me my conge.” "T—commission —Lilith! What do you •town?" asked Mrs. Drew. Fp went her • bead with her sensation of wounded gride; then, as she thought, “First, my • Mother suid this, now Lilith," the blood wstabed to her cheeks. , “I mean what 1 say,” said Willie. "Aa If—as if—if I wanted to tell you y%m wore wasting your time I should delagate a child—my child—to say so, inqfead of advising you myself!" Mrs. Drew gave a short laugh of annoyance. "I did think you knew me lietter!” "You have told me the truth your thought*—without meaning It,” said Wil--Ifit. nungM anger and a wild feeling of

unreasoning passion fighting with his efforts at self-control. “No one likes to hear truth and to tell it better than I. You think I am wasting my time. I am not, so far as I am concerned. Listen! When I found that my accident would lead to my coming here, I blessed that accident, just as a few minutes ago I blessed my good luck that Lilith gave me an excuse to seek a private interview with you.” Mrs. Drew half rose. “Whatever are you talking about?” she said, although her heart was beating quickly, for she felt what must come, if some chance did not bring an interruption. “I really don’t understand you.” “You will understand me presently,” answered the young man, rising and strengthening into the semblance of far maturer manhood by the very force of strong feeling. “First, about this question of waste of time. lam not bound to work—at least, not by the rules of society. Perhaps you do not know that the estate which will come to me is as beautiful as this; but the rent-roll is larger. Then I have private property apart. If 1 did not feel that—that in worldly circumstances I am what the world calls ‘a good match,’ I should not be here —now.” He paused. There was no mistaking the burning look that he fixed upon Lillian Drew. Feeling that to construe his words into a declaration of love for Lilith would be absurd, the once wife, now widow, thought, “All is lost.” Her moral strength was ebbing fast. She turned pale, and fixed her eyes upon him with dread. This man, so young—a boy in comparison with herself—to be taking the law into his own hands, to be seemingly subjugating her will by the power of his own! It was terrible! “Ah,” he cried triumphantly, as he read her recognition of the truth In her face, “you know!” Then he put aside her outstretched hands; he took no more notice of her little cry at fear than if it had been the chirp bird his gun might be pointed at. He raised her, almost unresisting, into his arms. He told her of his love, his adoration; how it had sprung up at the sight of her portrait, had grown and strengthened during his long talks with Lilith about her mother —her sweet, injured mother; how it had leaped into the furious passion it now was—as smoldering fire breaks into flames when fed with oil —at the sight of her —actual, living, in the flesh. Love had given Willie Macdonald patience, earnestness; now it gifted him with tenderness, eloquence, solicitude, a daring, too, which could not offend the most shrinking and fastidious woman, even did she not already love him.

CHAPTER XIII. As Willie held Lillian Drew’s slight trembling form in his arms, as if she were some precious creature that would vanish or melt if he lost that hold; as he .kissed her hair, her dress, the hand that lay limply against his breast—in all his daring not dreaming to touch her pale lips with his— felt as if in a next world, under different conditions. Struggling feebly against herself, she said incoherently: “Leave me! Have pity—l am weak, tired!” But, saying, “My wife —my beautiful, darling wife!” he merely held her more closely to him, as he repeated endearing words —words of tender, respectful hope. For a few minutes Lillian Drew was the prey of impulse. This was her first taste of that dangerous draught, earthly joy, which so often poisons those who dare to drink of it. She was loved and she loved in return. She struggled vaguely to repulse her young lover. Her age, his age, her widowhood, Lilith—these thoughts came startling her out of her delicions apathy. Then came the sound of a clenr, ringing voice outside: “Mother! Where are you, mother?’’ It was Lilith. Her footsteps were approaching upon the gravel path. She had heard that her mother was in the wigwant. She did not know who was there also. Mrs. Drew sprang awny from Willie, mechanically smoothing her hair, lie reassumed his seat on the table. “Oh!” Lilith looked disconcerted as she saw him, he meeting her eyes with a new, reckless expression. “I did not know you were here.” Lilith and a revulsion of feeling had nrrived simultaneously. Shame, self-re-pTWarh, and passionate love were making her desperate. She was, us it might be, gambling with her life. One chance was left. Which—what should it be? “Mr. Macdonald Juts, bjen asking me whether I did not think he ought to go bi\cji Jo I.ondyn and {o his work,” she snid, looking first at her daughter, and then, almost desperately, ut Willie; “and I told him that I thought lie ought to return as soon as possible. I may seem rude,” she added, with a laugh—yes, actually with n laugh!—“but sometimes one has to be rude in this life to do justice to others.” Then she slid her arm within her daughter's, ami the two went walking toward the house as if nothing had happened. Was it caprice, was it acting, or was it true? Willie stood for a moment, feeling stunned. Could it bo possible, he thought, ns lie looked at the hammock, the table, the lounging chairs, that a few moments since Mrs. Drew was lying on his breast as bis future wife? , Failing to understand his beloved, bo walk ed slowly toward the house; but he had not the heart to go Into the drawing room and tnlk of nothings over the tea table. He went to hiy room, and walked about restlessly till it was time to dress for dinner. When the mnn servant brought his hot water, he also brought him a note. After the interloper was bolted out, his trembling fingers tore the enveloiie spnrt. What was this? “Dcsr Mr. Macdonald—You took me by surprise this afternoon, and you must not mistake a manner which was really half faintness, half unconsciousness. There can, of course, be no question of our relations, which are those of good friendship. Do not mistake your own feelings. The youug are only apt to

this, to their lasting misery. Now yon must make your own plans, and stay or go a* it pleases you. You will find me the same as before the little effervescence of this afternoon, which no one can regret more keenly than your faithful friend. LILLIAN DREW.” At first Willie was in a rage. He tore the letter to fragments. “I will go at once,” he said, tearing his clothes from their resting places and wildly beginning to pack. Bnt, as is generally the case when people ai*e in a state of violent excitement, nothing would go right. As he flung his coats upon the bed, they tumbled off upon the floor. His portmanteaus refused to be unlocked—patent keys have an objection to ’be rashly dealt with —his shirts fell limply asunder when he essayed to arrange them in piles. The blade of a razor flew out and gashed his finger; Stanching the blood calmed him. “Why should I rush off all in a hurry because a woman is capricious?” he asked himself, as the second dressing bell rang. Then he remembered the lovely expression in her eyes when they were raised to his as she lay in his arms. That expression could mean —only one thing! “I shall stay,” he said, and he soberly returned his belongings to their drawers and pegs. When the dinner bell rang Mrs. Drew, nervously fluttering about the drawing room, saw Willie come in, tranquil, sedate, firm. He said a few words to Madam Ware, then came across to her. “I received your note,” he said, with an air of possessorship. “You were quit* right, I dare say, from your point ot view; but you must excuse me if I tell you that it made me laugh, and has had no effect upon me whatever.”, , Then he crossed over to Madam Ware, and, escorting her with more than usual care, devoted himself to her for the rest of the evening, while Mrs. Drew was sick at heart, and Lilith looked darkly on, wondering.

CHAPTER XIV. The moment comes in the lives of most men who possess any energy when they desire somewhat with the whole power of their being, and, desiring, turn all their efforts to obtain, be it fortune, fame, supremacy or a wife. Willie Macdonald was in the garden early next morning when Mrs. Drew entered it as usual. He came out from under the chestnut tree where the two garden chairs were placed, and, taking her garden basket and scissors from her, said: “Sit down.” She gave an embarrassed laugh, as if he were in jest, treating her as if she were some little schoolgirl; but she sat down, nevertheless. “Give me those gloves!” he said. "Certainly not!” she answered. But he simply seized her left hand and drew off the thick glove she wore when gardening, kissed it, and laid it in the empty basket at her feet. “That one will do,” he said, holding her struggling hand. “It is of no use struggling,” he went on, tightening his grasp, and fixing his eyes upon her. “You may wriggle and writhe and fret, and put yourself and myself to a great deal of useless trouble; it will be no good; I mean to have you. I love you—you love D3O “I did not say so,” interrupted Mrs. Drew, flushing. “I was going to speak to you seriously about yesterday. At the moment I was too surprised, too—too shocked,” she said, trying, to be dignified. “You were very, very ungentlemanly!” “I mean to be still more so,” announced Willie coolly. He had seized her ringfinger, and was drawing off her wedding ring and the guard her faithless husband had given her shortly after their engagement. “Do you see this?”—putting both rings into his waistcoat pocket. “You have said good-by to that farcical emblem of a broken tie, You will not see those rings again in a hurry. You will wear this”—drawing a ring with a single diamond which had belonged to his dead father from his finger, and placing it on h erg _“till I can place another one there.” “I cannot! You must not talk thus,” said Mrs. Drew, half yielding, half amazed at this taking of herself by storm. "You •had no right—yesterday—to call me by that name! I am—l mean, I have been —a wife!” “No; that I deny,” replied Willie firmly. “That miserable union was a fiction. What do I say? It was more; it was an outrage—an outrage upon the holiest, most beautiful tie in nature. You have yet to learn what that is; but you shall learn. I have sworn to myself that your life shall be full of joys—shared with me; full of kindness, help to others, shared by me—at least, all the toiling, difficult pnrt—and that uo grief shall enter your beautiful heart till it has spent its fury in mine first. “You are too hard upon me,” said Lillian. It was as if her power of resistance had gone from her with her “poor rings," as she had sadly called them to herself sometimes. “You forget I am so much older—years older than you are. Then what would people say? It would lead to n family quarrel. Fancy my father! I cannot think of it; it is absolutely impossible!” Willie smiued to himself—an elated little Bmlle. He had scarcely expected capitulation so soon. For he knew that, wljen n woman begins to argue with a iqun ahopt the possibility or impossibility of their being husband and wife, she has virtually capitulated. Here the breakfast hell rang and recalled Lillian Drew to the sense of the fitness of things. “Give me my rings. Don’t let ns talk nonsense. Here is yours,” she said, holding out Willie’s ring, with u pleading look. “Come —there’s a dear boy I” she added, speaking as she had spoken-»-half in jest—when he was a weak invalid and almost childishly obstinate. “Do not make me look ridiculous.” “If it were only n matter of seeming ridiculous, 1 should have nn easy task before me In carrying you off in triumph,” answered Willie, rißiug, and taking some steps towurd the house, hut taking uo notice of her outstretched hand holding the ring. Lilith, pale, serious, with large, dark circles round her tired eyes, read her fntc in those two face* faces that were both so dear to her nisirt, but the sight of which together thus was almost insupportable. But Madam Ware prattled to Willie, and the squire, who was going to a sale of yearlings at a stud farm some miles away, hurried through his breakfast, both of them utterly unsuspicious of the startling disclosure that awaited them. > . (To be continued.} The keener the critic the more cutting Uw crlUchuu.