NEW BERTHA CLAY LIBRARY ~ No. 226 ~
LOVED
AND
LOST
[Illustration]
BY
Bertha
M.
Clay
A FAVORITE OF MILLIONS
New Bertha Clay Library
LOVE STORIES WITH PLENTY OF ACTION
PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS
_The Author Needs No Introduction_
Countless millions of women have enjoyed the works of this author. They
are in great demand everywhere. The following list contains her best
work, and is the only authorized edition.
These stories teem with action, and what is more desirable, they are
clean from start to finish. They are love stories, but are of a type
that is wholesome and totally different from the cheap, sordid fiction
that is being published by unscrupulous publishers.
There is a surprising variety about Miss Clay’s work. Each book in this
list is sure to give satisfaction.
_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_
1--In Love’s Crucible By Bertha M. Clay
2--A Sinful Secret By Bertha M. Clay
3--Between Two Loves By Bertha M. Clay
4--A Golden Heart By Bertha M. Clay
5--Redeemed by Love By Bertha M. Clay
6--Between Two Hearts By Bertha M. Clay
7--Lover and Husband By Bertha M. Clay
8--The Broken Trust By Bertha M. Clay
9--For a Woman’s Honor By Bertha M. Clay
10--A Thorn in Her Heart By Bertha M. Clay
11--A Nameless Sin By Bertha M. Clay
12--Gladys Greye By Bertha M. Clay
13--Her Second Love By Bertha M. Clay
14--The Earl’s Atonement By Bertha M. Clay
15--The Gipsy’s Daughter By Bertha M. Clay
16--Another Woman’s Husband By Bertha M. Clay
17--Two Fair Women By Bertha M. Clay
18--Madolin’s Lover By Bertha M. Clay
19--A Bitter Reckoning By Bertha M. Clay
20--Fair but Faithless By Bertha M. Clay
21--One Woman’s Sin By Bertha M. Clay
22--A Mad Love By Bertha M. Clay
23--Wedded and Parted By Bertha M. Clay
24--A Woman’s Love Story By Bertha M. Clay
25--’Twixt Love and Hate By Bertha M. Clay
26--Guelda By Bertha M. Clay
27--The Duke’s Secret By Bertha M. Clay
28--The Mystery of Colde Fell By Bertha M. Clay
29--One False Step By Bertha M. Clay
30--A Hidden Terror By Bertha M. Clay
31--Repented at Leisure By Bertha M. Clay
32--Marjorie Deane By Bertha M. Clay
33--In Shallow Waters By Bertha M. Clay
34--Diana’s Discipline By Bertha M. Clay
35--A Heart’s Bitterness By Bertha M. Clay
36--Her Mother’s Sin By Bertha M. Clay
37--Thrown on the World By Bertha M. Clay
38--Lady Damer’s Secret By Bertha M. Clay
39--A Fiery Ordeal By Bertha M. Clay
40--A Woman’s Vengeance By Bertha M. Clay
41--Thorns and Orange Blossoms By Bertha M. Clay
42--Two Kisses and the Fatal Lilies By Bertha M. Clay
43--A Coquette’s Conquest By Bertha M. Clay
44--A Wife’s Judgment By Bertha M. Clay
45--His Perfect Trust By Bertha M. Clay
46--Her Martyrdom By Bertha M. Clay
47--Golden Gates By Bertha M. Clay
48--Evelyn’s Folly By Bertha M. Clay
49--Lord Lisle’s Daughter By Bertha M. Clay
50--A Woman’s Trust By Bertha M. Clay
51--A Wife’s Peril By Bertha M. Clay
52--Love in a Mask By Bertha M. Clay
53--For a Dream’s Sake By Bertha M. Clay
54--A Dream of Love By Bertha M. Clay
55--The Hand Without a Wedding Ring By Bertha M. Clay
56--The Paths of Love By Bertha M. Clay
57--Irene’s Bow By Bertha M. Clay
58--The Rival Heiresses By Bertha M. Clay
59--The Squire’s Darling By Bertha M. Clay
60--Her First Love By Bertha M. Clay
61--Another Man’s Wife By Bertha M. Clay
62--A Bitter Atonement By Bertha M. Clay
63--Wedded Hands By Bertha M. Clay
64--The Earl’s Error and Letty Leigh By Bertha M. Clay
65--Violet Lisle By Bertha M. Clay
66--A Heart’s Idol By Bertha M. Clay
67--The Actor’s Ward By Bertha M. Clay
68--The Belle of Lynn By Bertha M. Clay
69--A Bitter Bondage By Bertha M. Clay
70--Dora Thorne By Bertha M. Clay
71--Claribel’s Love Story By Bertha M. Clay
72--A Woman’s War By Bertha M. Clay
73--A Fatal Dower By Bertha M. Clay
74--A Dark Marriage Morn By Bertha M. Clay
75--Hilda’s Love By Bertha M. Clay
76--One Against Many By Bertha M. Clay
77--For Another’s Sin By Bertha M. Clay
78--At War With Herself By Bertha M. Clay
79--A Haunted Life By Bertha M. Clay
80--Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce By Bertha M. Clay
81--Wife in Name Only By Bertha M. Clay
82--The Sin of a Lifetime By Bertha M. Clay
83--The World Between Them By Bertha M. Clay
84--Prince Charlie’s Daughter By Bertha M. Clay
85--A Struggle for a Ring By Bertha M. Clay
86--The Shadow of a Sin By Bertha M. Clay
87--A Rose in Thorns By Bertha M. Clay
88--The Romance of the Black Veil By Bertha M. Clay
89--Lord Lynne’s Choice By Bertha M. Clay
90--The Tragedy of Lime Hall By Bertha M. Clay
91--James Gordon’s Wife By Bertha M. Clay
92--Set in Diamonds By Bertha M. Clay
93--For Life and Love By Bertha M. Clay
94--How Will It End? By Bertha M. Clay
95--Love’s Warfare By Bertha M. Clay
96--The Burden of a Secret By Bertha M. Clay
97--Griselda By Bertha M. Clay
98--A Woman’s Witchery By Bertha M. Clay
99--An Ideal Love By Bertha M. Clay
100--Lady Marchmont’s Widowhood By Bertha M. Clay
101--The Romance of a Young Girl By Bertha M. Clay
102--The Price of a Bride By Bertha M. Clay
103--If Love Be Love By Bertha M. Clay
104--Queen of the County By Bertha M. Clay
105--Lady Ethel’s Whim By Bertha M. Clay
106--Weaker Than a Woman By Bertha M. Clay
107--A Woman’s Temptation By Bertha M. Clay
108--On Her Wedding Morn By Bertha M. Clay
109--A Struggle for the Right By Bertha M. Clay
110--Margery Daw By Bertha M. Clay
111--The Sins of the Father By Bertha M. Clay
112--A Dead Heart By Bertha M. Clay
113--Under a Shadow By Bertha M. Clay
114--Dream Faces By Bertha M. Clay
115--Lord Elesmere’s Wife By Bertha M. Clay
116--Blossom and Fruit By Bertha M. Clay
117--Lady Muriel’s Secret By Bertha M. Clay
118--A Loving Maid By Bertha M. Clay
119--Hilary’s Folly By Bertha M. Clay
120--Beauty’s Marriage By Bertha M. Clay
121--Lady Gwendoline’s Dream By Bertha M. Clay
122--A Story of an Error By Bertha M. Clay
123--The Hidden Sin By Bertha M. Clay
124--Society’s Verdict By Bertha M. Clay
125--The Bride From the Sea and Other Stories By Bertha M. Clay
126--A Heart of Gold By Bertha M. Clay
127--Addie’s Husband and Other Stories By Bertha M. Clay
128--Lady Latimer’s Escape By Bertha M. Clay
129--A Woman’s Error By Bertha M. Clay
130--A Loveless Engagement By Bertha M. Clay
131--A Queen Triumphant By Bertha M. Clay
132--The Girl of His Heart By Bertha M. Clay
133--The Chains of Jealousy By Bertha M. Clay
134--A Heart’s Worship By Bertha M. Clay
135--The Price of Love By Bertha M. Clay
136--A Misguided Love By Bertha M. Clay
137--A Wife’s Devotion By Bertha M. Clay
138--When Love and Hate Conflict By Bertha M. Clay
139--A Captive Heart By Bertha M. Clay
140--A Pilgrim of Love By Bertha M. Clay
141--A Purchased Love By Bertha M. Clay
142--Lost for Love By Bertha M. Clay
143--The Queen of His Soul By Bertha M. Clay
144--Gladys’ Wedding Day By Bertha M. Clay
145--An Untold Passion By Bertha M. Clay
146--His Great Temptation By Bertha M. Clay
147--A Fateful Passion By Bertha M. Clay
148--The Sunshine of His Life By Bertha M. Clay
149--On With the New Love By Bertha M. Clay
150--An Evil Heart By Bertha M. Clay
151--Love’s Redemption By Bertha M. Clay
152--The Love of Lady Aurelia By Bertha M. Clay
153--The Lost Lady of Haddon By Bertha M. Clay
154--Every Inch a Queen By Bertha M. Clay
155--A Maid’s Misery By Bertha M. Clay
156--A Stolen Heart By Bertha M. Clay
157--His Wedded Wife By Bertha M. Clay
158--Lady Ona’s Sin By Bertha M. Clay
159--A Tragedy of Love and Hate By Bertha M. Clay
160--The White Witch By Bertha M. Clay
161--Between Love and Ambition By Bertha M. Clay
162--True Love’s Reward By Bertha M. Clay
163--The Gambler’s Wife By Bertha M. Clay
164--An Ocean of Love By Bertha M. Clay
165--A Poisoned Heart By Bertha M. Clay
166--For Love of Her By Bertha M. Clay
167--Paying the Penalty By Bertha M. Clay
168--Her Honored Name By Bertha M. Clay
169--A Deceptive Lover By Bertha M. Clay
170--The Old Love or New? By Bertha M. Clay
171--A Coquette’s Victim By Bertha M. Clay
172--The Wooing of a Maid By Bertha M. Clay
173--A Bitter Courtship By Bertha M. Clay
174--Love’s Debt By Bertha M. Clay
175--Her Beautiful Foe By Bertha M. Clay
176--A Happy Conquest By Bertha M. Clay
177--A Soul Ensnared By Bertha M. Clay
178--Beyond All Dreams By Bertha M. Clay
179--At Her Heart’s Command By Bertha M. Clay
180--A Modest Passion By Bertha M. Clay
181--The Flower of Love By Bertha M. Clay
182--Love’s Twilight By Bertha M. Clay
183--Enchained by Passion By Bertha M. Clay
184--When Woman Wills By Bertha M. Clay
185--Where Love Leads By Bertha M. Clay
186--A Blighted Blossom By Bertha M. Clay
187--Two Men and a Maid By Bertha M. Clay
188--When Love Is Kind By Bertha M. Clay
189--Withered Flowers By Bertha M. Clay
190--The Unbroken Vow By Bertha M. Clay
191--The Love He Spurned By Bertha M. Clay
192--Her Heart’s Hero By Bertha M. Clay
193--For Old Love’s Sake By Bertha M. Clay
194--Fair as a Lily By Bertha M. Clay
195--Tender and True By Bertha M. Clay
196--What It Cost Her By Bertha M. Clay
197--Love Forevermore By Bertha M. Clay
198--Can This Be Love? By Bertha M. Clay
199--In Spite of Fate By Bertha M. Clay
200--Love’s Coronet By Bertha M. Clay
201--Dearer Than Life By Bertha M. Clay
202--Baffled By Fate By Bertha M. Clay
203--The Love That Won By Bertha M. Clay
204--In Defiance of Fate By Bertha M. Clay
205--A Vixen’s Love By Bertha M. Clay
206--Her Bitter Sorrow By Bertha M. Clay
207--By Love’s Order By Bertha M. Clay
208--The Secret of Estcourt By Bertha M. Clay
209--Her Heart’s Surrender By Bertha M. Clay
210--Lady Viola’s Secret By Bertha M. Clay
211--Strong In Her Love By Bertha M. Clay
In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the
books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New
York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance
promptly, on account of delays in transportation.
To Be Published in July, 1923.
212--Tempted To Forget By Bertha M. Clay
213--With Love’s Strong Bonds By Bertha M. Clay
To Be Published in August, 1923.
214--Love, the Avenger By Bertha M. Clay
215--Under Cupid’s Seal By Bertha M. Clay
To Be Published in September, 1923.
216--The Love That Blinds By Bertha M. Clay
217--Love’s Crown Jewel By Bertha M. Clay
218--Wedded At Dawn By Bertha M. Clay
To Be Published in October, 1923.
219--For Her Heart’s Sake By Bertha M. Clay
220--Fettered For Life By Bertha M. Clay
To Be Published in November, 1923.
221--Beyond the Shadow By Bertha M. Clay
222--A Heart Forlorn By Bertha M. Clay
To Be Published in December, 1923.
223--The Bride of the Manor By Bertha M. Clay
224--For Lack of Gold By Bertha M. Clay
LOVE STORIES
All the world loves a lover. That is why Bertha M. Clay ranks so high
in the opinion of millions of American readers who prefer a good love
story to anything else they can get in the way of reading matter.
These stories are true to life--that’s why they make such a strong
appeal. Read one of them and judge.
LOVED AND LOST
OR,
A Deadly Secret
BY
BERTHA M. CLAY
Whose complete works will be published in this, the NEW
BERTHA CLAY LIBRARY.
[Illustration]
STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
PUBLISHERS
79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York
(Printed in the United States of America)
LOVED AND LOST.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. UNDER THE GREENWOOD-TREE.
CHAPTER II. ADIEU.
CHAPTER III. A RUSE DE GUERRE.
CHAPTER IV. TUROY GRANGE.
CHAPTER V. WOMAN’S WAYS.
CHAPTER VI. THE LAST WALTZ.
CHAPTER VII. A NOBLE SACRIFICE.
CHAPTER VIII. PAULINE’S TRIUMPH.
CHAPTER IX. ALL FOR LOVE.
CHAPTER X. A FACE AT THE WINDOW.
CHAPTER XI. “WHAT’S IN A NAME?”
CHAPTER XII. A WILL-O’-THE-WISP.
CHAPTER XIII. DOCTOR MAY’S PATIENT.
CHAPTER XIV. MY LOVE--MY LIFE.
CHAPTER XV. A JOYFUL AWAKENING.
CHAPTER XVI. GWEN AND PAULINE.
CHAPTER XVII. WHAT HOPE CAN DO.
CHAPTER XVIII. A HAPPY BRIDE.
CHAPTER XIX. THE FIRST CLOUD.
CHAPTER XX. LOVED AND LOST.
CHAPTER XXI. FEAR.
CHAPTER XXII. CONVICTION.
CHAPTER XXIII. A PAINFUL SURPRISE.
CHAPTER XXIV. A COTTAGE BY THE SEA.
CHAPTER XXV. SIR LAWRENCE ACTS.
CHAPTER XXVI. A LONG EXPLANATION.
CHAPTER I.
UNDER THE GREENWOOD-TREE.
“How on earth did you get up there?” And the speaker put his glass in
his eye, and coolly surveyed the dainty figure perched on one of the
branches of the huge elm, under which he was standing. “That is the
last place I expected to find you.”
“I suppose so,” she answered composedly; for Lady Gwendolyn was never
flustered or ill at ease under the most trying circumstances. “The fact
is, I have had an unpleasant adventure.”
“Indeed; I am very sorry. But hadn’t you better let me help you down
before we talk it over; unless you like your quarters so well that you
are inclined to stay there, and, in that case, I will join you.”
“Nonsense, Colonel Dacre!” but she laughed, too. “What would Mrs.
Grundy say to such an extraordinary tête-à-tête?”
“She would say that it had the merit of novelty; and, considering how
tired one is of everything that has happened, and how bored at the
thought of prospective repetitions, I consider that any one who strikes
out a new line for himself, and refuses to lag along in the old groove,
deserves to be canonized.”
“Well, it is very nice when people will be a little original,
certainly; but I am not sure that a woman dare get out of the old
groove. Moreover, you men like pretty nonentities.”
“The deuce we do!” exclaimed Colonel Dacre. “Who told you that?”
“Nobody. One does not need telling things when one has eyes and ears.
I have seen you dance as often as four times in one evening with Mrs.
O’Hara.”
“Well?”
“Well,” echoed Lady Gwendolyn, with a superb sort of insolence, “is she
clever?”
“No.”
“Refined?”
“No,” answered Colonel Dacre again.
“Or particularly good?”
“I am afraid not.”
“Then what is it that makes her the most popular woman in London?”
“Upon my word, I can’t tell you. I like her because I knew poor O’Hara.”
“And is it so pleasant to talk to her of your dead friend?” insinuated
Lady Gwendolyn slyly.
“I never heard her mention her husband’s name in my life.”
“No? Really, you quite astonish me! Then you can’t like her for his
sake--you must like her for her own. And I will tell you why, shall I?”
“I am all attention.”
“Well, she flatters you so skilfully that you don’t even know she is
doing it, at the same time that you feel infinitely satisfied with
yourself. I don’t mean you, individually, Colonel Dacre; but her
acquaintances generally.”
“At any rate, no one can accuse you of a like fault, Lady Gwendolyn,”
he said, with a faint smile, that showed pain as well as amusement.
“No; I am perfectly downright--too much so, Lady Teignmouth says; but
then there is one thing I would scorn to do.”
“What is that?” And there was a certain eagerness in his gray eyes.
“I would scorn to trouble the peace of a happy ménage for the sake of
gratifying my poor vanity.”
“And who does this thing?”
“You have a very poor memory, Colonel Dacre. Don’t you remember how
well poor foolish Percy Gray got on with his wife, until----”
“Go on,” he urged.
“Well, until Mrs. O’Hara paid them a long visit in town, and then Percy
began gradually to discover that Lady Maria was unsympathetic and
dull, and could not satisfy a man of intellectual tastes. Perhaps Mrs.
O’Hara meant no worse than to make herself agreeable to a convenient
acquaintance; but the result was to separate the two.”
“I don’t think you are just, Lady Gwendolyn. What reason have you for
laying their domestic differences at Mrs. O’Hara’s door?”
“Lady Maria made no mystery of it.”
“She was jealous of Mrs. O’Hara.”
“Possibly. I fancy I should have been in her place,” and Lady
Gwendolyn’s eyes flashed fire. “If I had a husband, I should not
exactly care for him to be always dancing attendance on a handsome
widow, and making her presents of valuable jewels, especially when he
bought these last with my money.”
“Did Lady Maria tell you that, too?”
“Indeed she did, and ‘albeit though not given to the melting mood,’ I
cried with her, poor thing! ‘For,’ as she pathetically said, ‘we were
so happy together, Percy and I, until Mrs. O’Hara came to stay with us
in town, and then she gave him such an exalted idea of himself that I
could not please or satisfy him afterward.’”
There was a minute’s silence. Lady Gwendolyn was almost ashamed at the
warmth she had shown, lest her motives should be misconstrued; and
Colonel Dacre was meditating deeply. At last he looked up and said:
“Why do you tell me all this, Lady Gwendolyn? You are not a spiteful
woman naturally, and I know you to be incapable of jealousy. For these
reasons I am specially anxious to understand your meaning.”
“Can’t you guess?”
“No; unless you fancy I am in danger from Mrs. O’Hara’s attractions,
and need warning.”
“I have been afraid so,” she said; and the wild-rose bloom of her soft
cheeks deepened to a rich crimson. “And we have been friends so long,
neighbors always, I could not bear to see you throw yourself away on a
woman who was so infinitely unworthy of an honest man’s love.”
If Lady Gwendolyn had been near Colonel Dacre she would not have
dared to speak so frankly. But her position, if ridiculous, had its
advantages, for she was out of the range of his keen glances, and the
tremulous leaves had the benefit of her frequent blushes. For over a
month now she had been longing to tell him this, but the courage had
only come to-day. She was quite obliged to Farmer Bates’ bull for
having frightened her up into the tree, and she did not mean to descend
just yet.
Colonel Dacre took a long time to digest her warning, but he spoke at
last coolly enough.
“Thank you, Lady Gwendolyn; but though I don’t quite agree with you
about Mrs. O’Hara, I would sooner shoot myself than marry her. My
friend was a noble fellow, and kept his counsel bravely to the end;
but there was one thing that would always prevent me from falling in
love with his widow.”
“What is that?”
“Because I should not like to stand in a dead man’s shoes, especially
his. So, you see, I am safe, although Mrs. O’Hara has the double
advantages of being a nonentity and a flatterer. Now will you let me
help you down from your perch?”
“Wait just one minute. I want to ask you a very impertinent question
first, if I may.”
“I grant you absolution beforehand,” he said, smiling, “on condition
that you do not keep me in suspense.”
“I want to know,” she began hesitatingly, “whether if--supposing Mrs.
O’Hara had not been your friend’s widow----”
“I should have cared for her?” put in the colonel, to help out her
halting speech. “Is that what you mean?”
“Yes; I am so absurdly curious, and I have always wondered if--if----”
Here she came to a full stop in dire confusion, for she had been going
to add, “if that is the sort of woman you would care for;” and suddenly
perceived that this would not do at all.
“I’ll answer your question when you are on terra firma,” replied
Colonel Dacre, dodging to catch a glimpse of the piquant face among the
leaves; “this is what I call a conversation under difficulties. By the
by, you forgot to tell me why you got up there at all.”
“Bates’ bull put its head over the railing, and looked at my red cloak
so viciously I dared not pass him. I had often climbed this tree with
Reggie when I was a little girl, and had managed to give Fraulein von
Linder the slip; and so I thought I would try it again to-day; but a
gown with a train is embarrassing.”
“I expect it is,” he answered, with a droll look in his handsome eyes.
“I should be sorry to go about the world crippled by my clothes as you
women do.”
“Oh, we don’t mind it, as a rule. One would rather suffer anything, you
know, than be quite out of the fashion.”
“Would one, indeed?” he returned, in a tone of grave commiseration. “It
seems to me that fashion is the greatest despot the world ever knew;
but I am thankful to say it is only women who yield so servilely to its
exactions.”
“Of course. One never hears, for instance, of men putting their necks
into a vise, and having to turn their heads painfully for fear of
accidents to the machinery. Still, if we did hear of such things, we
should know it was only done for comfort, and respect them vastly for
consulting their own ease before appearances.”
“I can’t argue with a lady so high above me,” retorted Colonel Dacre;
and then he added, more seriously: “Indeed, Lady Gwendolyn, you ought
to come down. I can see the Handley drag in the distance, and you know
Sir Charles would tease your life out of you if he caught you in such a
predicament as this.”
“I suppose he would, and therefore I must return to conventional life
again. But you have no idea how pleasant it is up here; the air is so
pure, and the leaves smell so sweet. I’ll get Teignmouth to arrange me
a little place in one of his big trees, à la Robinson, so that I may
retire there for contemplation and self-examination occasionally.”
“Or, rather, say to read your _billets doux_, and keep a close
calculation as to the number of hearts you have broken,” said Colonel
Dacre, with a sternness in his voice that showed this trifling,
butterfly nature--as he believed it to be--angered as well as charmed
him. “I fancy that would be nearer the truth.”
Without answering him, Lady Gwendolyn began to work her way slowly
along the bough on which she had been seated. She found it a very
different performance in cold blood from what it had been under the
excitement of fear, and felt herself tremble nervously.
She was terribly incommoded by her dress into the bargain. If Colonel
Dacre had not been there she would have gathered her train over her
arm, and let her ankles take their chance; but under the circumstances
this would not have done, and she had to proceed circumspectly, as
became the daughter of a hundred earls.
Knowing nothing of her difficulties, and seeing the Handley drag draw
nearer and nearer, Colonel Dacre kept urging her on eagerly. Sir
Charles was a great gossip, and it was quite as well he should not have
an opportunity of making mischief out of Lady Gwendolyn’s escapade.
“You really must be quick,” he urged; “the horses are turning Borton
corner.”
“But don’t you think I should pass unobserved if you were to get away
from the tree?” observed Lady Gwendolyn timidly.
“Impossible. Your red cloak must have been a feature in the landscape
for some time past. You had better leave it where it is, to account for
what they have seen, and if you are very quick, we shall be able to
hide ourselves before they get on high ground again.”
“That’s all very well, but----”
“Shall I give you a little help?”
“Not for worlds! I would rather stay here all night.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you are laughing at me in your sleeve. You did not see
the bull’s great glaring eyes.”
“If you had made him a present of your cloak he would have been so
taken up with his toy that you would have been able to make your escape
in a legitimate way.”
“That’s all very well, but I really can’t afford to throw my clothes
away in that fashion. I have come down to Teignmouth on purpose to
economize, because I exceeded my allowance last year, and my brother
had to help me through. Now he is married he has to pay his wife’s
debts, and, of course, I am left out in the cold; so I am obliged to
be horribly careful, you see. Teignmouth says I ought to make three
hundred pounds a year do; but then you men never understand what heaps
of things a woman wants.”
“Exactly,” groaned her listener. “A man must have ten thousand
pounds nowadays before he can afford the luxury of a wife, and then
he’s ruined half the time. But pray look where you are going, Lady
Gwendolyn. I am sure that branch on which you are stepping is rotten
and unsafe.”
“It bore me before.”
“And, therefore, is less likely to do so again. I can hear it crack
now--for mercy’s sake step back!” he shouted, in a frightened tone.
She seemed to enjoy his alarm, and laughed defiantly. She desired
nothing better than to make him suffer a little; and she saw, by his
anxious face, that he was suffering now--from a nervous dread of
witnessing some catastrophe, no doubt. She put her other foot onto the
rotten branch. He was watching her with his heart in his eyes; but he
saw that his warning had been a mistake, and was silent now, hoping she
would try to redeem her error if she were left to herself.
And so she did; but it was too late. The bough gave a loud creak, then
broke off suddenly, and Lady Gwendolyn fell in a brilliant heap at
Colonel Dacre’s feet.
The red cloak, her pretty summer hat, and her long black hair, were all
in such a tangle together that he could not find her face at first,
and even when he did he was afraid to look, lest the fatal beauty,
which had been the curse of so many, was all spoiled and disfigured. An
unholy thought sped through him, that, if it were so, there would be
none to dispute with him the treasure he coveted. But he chased this
away with contumely.
With a quick but reluctant hand he swept away the shining masses of her
hair, and looked at her anxiously. She was as white as a lily; but if
there was no more harm done than what he saw, she would break many more
hearts yet--his own maybe among the rest.
He bent his lips almost to her ear; inhaling, with passionate delight,
the faint perfume that pervaded her dress.
So far it had been a wonderful privilege to hold her hand for a few
seconds in his; and now he might have touched her creamy cheek with his
lips had he been so minded, and no one would have been the wiser, for
the Handley wagonette had gone by, and there was not a living soul in
sight.
It was a great temptation, for he had loved this girl secretly, madly,
entirely, for two long years, and had suffered tortures of jealousy and
hopelessness meanwhile.
If she would only come to herself! He did not think she could be
much injured, as she had not fallen from any great height, but still
she did not open her eyes, and he was so totally inexperienced in
fainting-fits, that her perfect immovability frightened him.
He almost wished now that he had hailed the Handley people as they
went by, although he was so jealously glad to have her all to himself.
He wondered what he ought to do. He had heard of eau de Cologne being
an excellent thing under the circumstance, but then he did not carry
it about with him. He put his hand in his pocket mechanically as the
idea occurred to him, and came upon his silver hunting-flask. His
face brightened at once. He was sure he had also heard of brandy as a
remedy, and what a merciful thing he had some by him. He supposed it
was to be applied externally, like the eau de Cologne. Going down on
his knees beside the insensible figure, he moistened his handkerchief
with the spirit, and then bathed Lady Gwendolyn’s forehead and
nostrils; and whether it was that brandy so applied really was a good
thing, or that the fainting-fits was ending naturally, the girl’s white
eyelids began to twinkle, and suddenly she looked up at him with a
languidly mysterious smile.
He stooped over her tenderly.
“Are you better, Lady Gwendolyn?”
“Have I been ill, then?” she asked.
“Oh, dear, no!” he answered cheerfully, having always understood that
you must keep your patient’s spirits up. “Just a little faintness, that
was all. Nothing of the smallest consequence.”
“How do you know that?” she returned. “I believe I have broken my leg.”
“Oh! pray, don’t say that. You only fell from a very short distance,
after all, and your feet were not doubled under you, or anything of
that sort. You don’t feel any pain, do you?”
Lady Gwendolyn shook her dark, disheveled head in a despondent way.
“That is what I do feel, and I am sure I could not walk home.”
“I never dreamed of your doing such a thing. If you don’t mind waiting
here----”
She interrupted him with a cry of dismay.
“So close to Bates’ bull?”
“I beg your pardon,” he said penitently, and then stood pulling at his
mustache--a way he had when puzzled or annoyed.
At last he added hesitatingly:
“My house is close here, and if you would not mind my carrying you
there, Mrs. Whittaker, the housekeeper, would be able to attend to
you until the doctor came. I cannot think of any better plan at this
moment; and, of course, I shall not enter the Hall until I have fetched
Lady Teignmouth. It is ridiculous to trouble about conventionalities
at such a time, Lady Gwendolyn, when the least neglect or delay might
cause you to be a cripple for life. Are you not of my opinion?”
“Quite,” she replied, with a strange gleam as of suppressed triumph
in her beautiful eyes. “Only that I am afraid you will find that the
burden laid upon you is heavier than you can bear.”
“We shall see,” he said, lifting her in his stalwart arms as easily
as if she had been a child. “Would you mind putting your arm round my
shoulder, just to steady yourself?”
Lady Gwendolyn obeyed him with the simplicity that is always such
perfect breeding; and when Colonel Dacre looked down at the creamy
cheek resting on his shoulder, and felt the warm coil of her arm round
his neck, he could hardly resist the mad temptation to press her
against his heart, and tell her again and again how he loved her--so
passionately that he would have deemed the world well lost for her
sweet sake.