May Agnes Fleming

“ You will never be happy as Sir Ronald Keith's wife; he will never be happy as your husband. I know how you are trying to delude yourself; I know you are trying to believe you will love him and be happy by-and-by. Don't indulge such sophistry any longer; don't be led away by your own pride and folly."
"Pride and folly!" she echoed indignantly.
"Yes, I repeat it. Your heart, your conscience, must own the truth of what I say, if your lips will not. Would you ever have accepted Sir Ronald Keith if your father had not been about to marry Grace Danton?" ”

“ Kate sat at the piano, singing a fly-away duet with Miss Howard. Mr. Howard stood at Miss Danton's right elbow devotedly turning the music; and in a little cozy velvet sofa, just big enough for two, Reginald and Rose were tête-à-tête.
In the changed days that came after, Doctor Frank remembered that picture—the exquisite face at the piano, the slender and stately form, the handsome man, and the pretty coquette on the sofa. The song sung that night brought the tableau as vividly before him years and years after, as when he saw it then. ”

“ Stanford, in pursuance of his promise to Kate, played the agreeable to her sister with a provoking perseverance that was proof against any amount of snubbing, and that nearly drove Rose wild. He would take a seat by her side, always in Kate's presence, and talk to her by the hour, while she could but listen, and rebel inwardly. Never, even while she chafed most, had she loved him better. That power of fascination, that charm of face, of voice, of smile, that had conquered her fickle heart the first time she saw him, enthralled her more and more hopelessly with every passing day. ”

“ Doctor Danton, coming every day to the Hall, and closely observant always, saw no symptoms of thawing out on Rose's part, and no effort to please on the side of Mr. Stanford. He treated her as he treated Eeny and Grace, courteously, genially, but nothing more. He was all devotion to his beautiful betrothed, and Kate—what words can paint the infinite happiness of her face! All that was wanting to make her beauty perfect was found. She had grown so gentle, so sweet, so patient with all; she was so supremely blessed herself, she could afford to stoop to the weaknesses of less fortunate mortals. ”

“ December and the old year died out, in a great winding-sheet of snow. January came, and its first week dragged away, and the master and mistress of the house were daily expected home.
Late in the afternoon of a January day, Kate sat at the drawing-room window, her chin resting on her hand, her eyes fixed on the white darkness. The wind made such a racket and uproar within and without, that she did not hear a modest tap at the door, or the turning of the handle. It was only when a familiar voice sounded close to her elbow that she started from her reverie. ”

“ Kate reiterated, never stirring, never looking at him, and white as death.
"You have fancied yourself very good, very immaculate, and thanked Heaven in an uplifted sort of way that you were not as other women, false, and mean, and sordid. You wanted to walk through life in a pathway of roses without thorns, to a placid death, and a heritage of glory in Heaven. The trials of common people were not for you; sorrow, and disappointment, and suffering were to pass Miss Danton by. You were so good, and so far up in the clouds, nothing low or base could reach you. ”

“ She saw it all as by an electric light—Mr. Reinecourt was Kate's betrothed husband, Reginald Stanford. He had known her from the first; from the first he had coolly and systematically deceived her. He knew that she loved him—he must know it—and had gone on fooling her to the top of his bent. Perhaps he and Kate would laugh over it together before the day was done. Rose clenched her hands, and her eyes flashed at the thought. Back came the colour to her cheeks, back the light to her eyes; anger for the moment quenched every spark of love. Some of the old Danton pluck was in her, after all. ”

“ She might never be happy herself, but she might make others happy. She might never have a home of her own, but she might brighten and cheer other homes. As an unprofessed Sister of Charity, she might go among those poor ones doing good; and dimly in the future she could see the cloistered, grateful walls shutting her from the troubles of this feverish life. Standing there by the curtained window, her eyes fixed on the pitchy darkness, a new era in her existence seemed to dawn.
Miss Danton said nothing to any one about this new resolution of hers. ”

“ Not Sir Ronald Keith watching his lady's lattice—it was too tall for him. Not the Captain—the cloaked figure was too slight. No one Grace knew, and no ghost; for he stood still an instant, lit a cigar, and resumed his walk, smoking. He had loitered up and down the terrace for about a quarter of an hour, when another figure came out from the shadows and joined him. A woman this time, with a shawl wrapped round her, and a white cloud on her head. The moonlight fell full on her face—pale and beautiful. Grace could hardly repress a cry—it was Kate Danton. ”

“ He was changeful by nature. Rose's pretty piquant beauty bewitched him; and this was the end.
"I hope I may be mistaken," I said; "for Kate's sake I hope so, for she loves him with a love of which he is totally unworthy; but, I confess, I doubt it."
I cannot describe to you the anger of Captain Danton, and I pray I may never witness the like again. When men like him, quiet and good-natured by habit, do get into a passion, the passion is terrible indeed.
"The villain!" he cried, through his clenched teeth. "The cruel villain! I'll shoot him like a dog!" ”

“ Stanford had to keep up appearances, and smiles, though the serpents of envy and regret gnawed at her vitals. It was very gay there! Life seemed all made up of music, and dancing, and feasting, and mirth, and skating, and sleighing, and dressing, and singing. Life went like a fairy spectacle, or an Eastern drama, or an Arcadian dream—with care, and trial, and trouble, monsters unknown even by name.
Mme. Jules La Touche played the rôle with charming grace—a little shy, as became her youth and inexperience, but only the more charming for that. ”

“ Let us go and see old Margery."
They found the old woman in a little room appropriated to her, knitting busily, and looking bright, and hale, and hearty. She rose up and dropped the young lady a stiff curtsey.
"I'm very glad to see you, Miss," said Margery. "I nursed you often when you was a little blue-eyed, curly-haired, rosy cheeked baby. You are very tall and very pretty, Miss; but you don't look like your mother. She don't look like her mother. You're Dantons, both of you; but Miss Rose, she looks like her, and Master Harry—ah, poor, dear Master Harry! He is killed; isn't he, Miss Kate?" ”

“ A lovely evening—calm, windless, still; the moon's silver disk brilliant in an unclouded sky, and the holy hush of eventide over all. The solemn beauty of the falling night tempted Kate to linger, while Eeny went on to the house. There was a group of tall pines, with a rustic bench, near the entrance-gates. Kate sat down under the evergreens, leaning against the trees, her dark form scarcely distinguishable in their shadow. While she sat, a man and a woman passed. Full in the moonlight she saw that it was Doctor Danton and Agnes Darling. ”

“ Your heart acknowledges the truth of every word I have said; and remember there is but one recipe for real happiness—goodness. Be good and you will be happy. It is a hackneyed precept out of a copy-book," Father Francis said, with a slight smile; "but believe me, it is the only infallible rule. Rouse yourself to a better life, my dear Kate; begin a new and more perfect life, and God will help you. Remember, dear child, 'There is a love that never fails when earthly loves decay.'"
She did not speak. She rose up, cold, and white, and rigid. ”

“ How would he act towards a lady, plighted to be his wife, and yet who took midnight rambles with another man? Would the engagement be broken off, and would he leave Canada forever in disgust? Or would he, forsaking Kate, turn to Kate's younger sister for love and consolation?
Rose's heart throbbed, and her face grew hot in the solitude of her chamber, at the thought. He would demand an explanation, of course; would it be haughtily refused by that haughty sister, or would the mystery of Mr. Richards be opened for him? ”

“ Nothing will tempt him from his solitude—nothing can induce him to venture out, except at midnight, when all are asleep. He is the ghost who frightened Margery and Agnes Darling; he is the man you saw with Kate last in the grounds. He clings to her as he clings to no one else. The only comfort left him in this lower world are these nightly walks with her. She is the bravest, the best, the noblest of girls; she leaves her warm room, her bed, for those cold midnight walks with that unhappy and suffering man."
Once again a pause. Reginald Stanford looked at Captain Danton's pale, agitated face. ”

“ The moon sailed up in the zenith, the blue sky was all sown with stars, and the loud ringing of the dinner-bell reached her even where she sat. She got up hastily, and hurried to the house, ran to her room, threw off her bonnet and shawl, smoothed her hair, and descended to the dining-room in her plain black silk dress. She was late; they were all there—her father, Grace, Rose, Eeny, Sir Ronald, the Reverend Augustus Clare, and Doctor Danton. ”

“ Oh, Miss Danton, you won't tell?"
"Certainly not," answered Kate, startled by her emotion. "I merely thought he might be the friend you came in search of."
"Oh, no, no! Doctor Danton has been my friend; I owe him more than I can ever repay. He is the best, and noblest, and most generous of men. He was my friend when I had no friend in the world—when, but for him, I might have died. But he is not the one I came to seek."
"I beg your pardon," said Kate, going back to her chair. "I have asked too many questions." ”

“ The small chamber was dimly lighted by a lamp turned low. By the bedside sat Grace, wrapped in a shawl; on the pillow lay the white face of Agnes Darling, calm in her slumber, but colourless as the pillow itself.
Kate bent over her, and Grace arose at her entrance. It was such a contrast; the stately, beautiful girl, with jewelled flowers in her hair, her costly robe trailing the carpetless floor, the perfume of her dress and golden hair scenting the room, and the wan little creature, so wasted and pale, lying asleep on the low bed. ”