Lady Glyde

“ Gladys! you are but a weak woman after all.
When Gladys was dressed, she gently awoke Minette, and took her into the dressing-room to attire her also.
'Gladys, dear, how pretty you look!' exclaimed the child, 'you have a pink cheek, and your eyes are as bright as the sky; and you have such a pretty gown and collar, and everything. You are quite a lady, now you have left off that gown mamma gave you so long ago. Is Uncle Owen, who is coming to-day, as nice as Uncle Rowland? ”

“ But she is happy, dear little soul, after her own peculiar fashion,—which she never could have been with me. She writes to me now and then. The man, her husband, is her master, but not a bad one. She knows it, and glories in him. Isn't that extraordinary?”
“Not at all,” Glyde said, who knew nothing of Mary. “It's a law of Nature. The woman follows the man. I suppose you treated her as an equal?”
“No, as a superior, which she plainly was,” said Senhouse.
“Then,” Glyde said, looking at him, “then you made her so. If you fly against Nature, you must get the worst of it.” ”

“ Gladys replied quietly, "and till I do know them, I shall remain of my own opinion still. If you wish me not to see so much of Mr. Vardon, I shall try to do as you say; but if I happen to like any particular person, whether he's a peer or a ploughboy, I can't help liking him, so there's an end of it." And Gladys kissed her mother demurely on the forehead, and walked with a stately sweep out of the room.
"It's perfectly clear," said Lady Surrey to herself, "that that girl's in love with Mr. Vardon, and what on earth I'm to do about it is to me a mystery." ”

“ Davy,' said Mrs Prothero, 'young people will be young people, and I'm sure no one can be so modest as Gladys,'
'Well, I'm of Netta's opinion, and the sooner they're married the better. I must confess, now I know who Gladys is, there isn't a girl in all the country I like so well. And Mr and Mrs Jones have written as a gentleman and lady ought to write, owning her, and giving their free consent to her marrying our Owen. ”

“ But Glyde became the slave of the strange man who blended austerity with charitable judgment, and appeased his passion by blood from his heart. He was not himself a mystic, but a sensitive youth whom the world's rubs had taught the uses of a thick hide. Either you have that by nature, or you earn it by practice. Glyde had found out that the less you say to your maltreaters the less, in time, you have to say about it to yourself. He was conscious of his parts and all too ready to be arrogant. Senhouse's goddess had been kind to him, and he had presumed upon that. ”

“ Next morning, after breakfast, Lady Surrey sent for Gladys to come to her in her boudoir. Then she put her daughter in a chair by the window, drew her own close to it, laid her hand kindly on her shoulder—she was a nice little woman at heart, was the countess—and said to her gently, "My dear Gladys, there's a little matter I want to talk to you about. You are still very young, you know, dear; and I think you ought to be very careful about not letting your feelings be played upon in any way, however unconsciously. Now, you walk and talk a great deal too much, dear, with Mr. Vardon. ”

“ Gladys has her baby in her arms in a few seconds. The infant is attired in her christening robe and cap, and seems to add a new beauty to the sweet and gentle Gladys. All eyes are directed towards them, all hearts warm towards them. Minette is instantly kissing her little cousin, even Mrs Jonathan takes its tiny hand, as Gladys carries it round in her mother's pride and joy.
'Your grandchild and my grandniece, Mr Prothero,' says Mr Jones, 'may she grow up as good as her mother.'
'Amen!' replies Mr Prothero. ”

“ I am so glad you have brought us back Gladys. We couldn't do without her in these parts.'
'Do you still stand to your text, Miss Gwynne?' said Mr Prothero. 'We may as well settle the matter at once. It will be a great thing for the girl.'
'Oh, certainly; only she looks too tired to settle anything. Gladys, I will give you a day or two to consider whether you will come and live with me, as my maid, or be Miss Hall's pattern school-mistress.'
Gladys looked from Miss Gwynne to Miss Hall, and then from her master to her mistress, through the tears that were gathering faster and faster. ”

“ We will not think of the journey just yet, dear; we will be happy together, all of us, for a little longer. You cannot leave so soon, after you have made Owen and me so blest.'
'None of you want me now; father and mother have a new daughter, a better one than I have ever been; Owen a wife! What a word that is, Gladys! We don't understand it till we are parted from our husband; and I give Minette a mother in my place. I must go very soon.'
Poor Netta laid her head on Gladys' shoulder, and began to cry. ”

“ Opposite this trio, with her left hand clasped in that of Netta, and close to her sofa, stands the fair, blue-eyed, graceful Gladys; thoroughly Irish in beauty, if Welsh in heart. The red glare of the large bright fire brings out her sweet, earnest face, and slight form. Her eyes are cast down, as if they cannot support the gaze of so many other eyes, and her cheeks are flushed with a strange excitement. Towering a full head above her, his arm round her waist, the thick black beard touching her hair is the manly, handsome Owen. ”

“ Gladys has never before seen her examine every portion of her attire so minutely, or look so satisfied with the survey. In truth she never before saw her look so handsome, or so perfectly well dressed. The full, light, many-skirted blue dress, with its bouquets of forget-me-nots and lilies, its fringes and ribbons, suits so well the fine complexion of the very distinguished-looking girl who wears it—whilst the wreath slightly crowns the well-shaped head, and falls gracefully down the neck and back in becoming simplicity and elegance. ”

“ He is about to utter the fear that oppresses him, but Gladys points to his mother, still heavily sleeping.
'Perhaps it is a swoon,' she whispers, and goes for the draught ready for such an attack. The light of the candle awakes Mrs Prothero, and she is out of bed in a moment.
'Netta has fainted, mother; she has one of her spasms,' says Owen, turning his pale face to his mother.
'My God, it is death!' cries the stricken mother, falling on her knees by the bedside of her child.
And it is death. Without a groan the spirit has quitted its dwelling of clay to enter upon its eternal rest! ”

“ Again poor Netta was the object of every one's thoughts, Gladys forgot herself, and Owen his joy, to cheer and comfort her.
It was in private that Mrs Prothero poured out her feelings to Gladys, and assured her of her unbounded satisfaction in the prospect of such a daughter. It was also in private that Netta solemnly gave her child into Gladys' care. She said,—
'If I die, Gladys, you are to be her mother. You are to bring her up; she is never to leave you. If Howel comes back, say to him this was my wish. ”

“ One elbow rests upon the arm of Netta's sofa, one hand smooths mechanically the head of his grandchild, resting against his knee. This large hand and that tender head come within the glow of the fire-light. His grey head is lifted towards Gladys, on whom his keen black eyes, so like Netta's, are also fixed. Minette, too, sitting at his feet, gazes with child-like wonder on Gladys; her long black curls falling over her pale face. Grandsire, daughter, child, so like one another, and yet so far apart in age. ”

“ That wild Irish beggar! Why, father would get into a fury, and I'm sure I should be afraid to sleep in the same place with such a creature.'
'Oh, my dear child! when will it please the Lord to soften your heart, and teach you that all men and women are brothers and sisters.'
'Never, I'm sure, in that kind of way.'
Whilst the mother and daughter continue their conversation about Gladys, of which the above is a specimen, we will glance at Janetta Prothero, the spoilt daughter of Glanyravon Farm.
She is decidedly a pretty girl? some might call her a beauty. ”

“ Whilst this little conversation is going on, the girl, Gladys, is laid upon the shawl-blanket of the woman who wears that singular attire, and a pillow, half rags, half straw, is contrived for her head. The bonnet is taken off to increase her comfort, and, as her head falls languidly back upon the rough pillow, a wan, thin face is disclosed, that, from the regular outline of the profile, must be pretty, under happier circumstances, and is interesting. ”

“ Had Gladys been an ordinary girl, entertaining less exalted ideas of honour and integrity, everything might have been smoothed over. Women, as a rule, are too lenient towards the follies of men, especially when the offenders are young and handsome; but Gladys was an exception to almost every rule. The only chance lay in the knowledge being kept from her, yet how was that possible, Liz Hepburn being at that very moment an invited guest at Bourhill? ”

“ The name of Lady Ursula Glynde had been faintly whispered, yet it seemed almost as preposterous to suppose that a beautiful young girl—refined, gentle, poetic, scarce out of her teens—would have the physical strength to commit so foul a deed, as to think of His Grace in connection with it. ”

“ Before she was able to rise again he threw something that was in his hand upon her, said a couple of words, and upon the moment the maiden was gone from amongst them. Nobody could see her, for that word made her invisible. The little maneen seized her and raised her up behind Guleesh, and the king nor no one else saw them, but out with them through the hall till they came to the door.
Oro! dear Mary! it's there the pity was, and the trouble, and the crying, and the wonder, and the searching, and the rookawn, when that lady disappeared from their eyes, and without their seeing what did it. ”

“ All beyond was radiantly bright and blooming; and as Canaris, passing first to hold back the thorny boughs, stood an instant, bathed in the splendor of the early sunshine, Gladys exclaimed, her face full of the tender idolatry of a loving woman,—
“O Felix, you are so good, so great, so beautiful, if it were not wicked, I should worship you!”
“God forbid! Do not love me too much, Gladys: I do not deserve it.”
“How can I help it, when I feel very like the girl who lost her heart to the Apollo?” she answered, feeling that she never could love too much. ”

“ Between the head of the sofa and the fire-place is an arm-chair, also against the wall, Mr Prothero's favourite seat; and Minette's footstool is by the side of her mother, and at the feet of her grandfather.
Netta's pale face is in shadow, but the large, bright black eyes beam upon Gladys, with preternatural lustre, and the raven hair shines against the white pillow that supports her head. The broad, massive figure of the father, in its rough work-a-day clothes, is also in shadow. ”

“ She was very kind to us, and yet so poor; yes, I think she would come.'
'Is she a lady, Gladys?'
'If to be a lady is to have a heart of gold, which never thinks one unselfish thought, she is one, Mrs. Fordyce,' said Gladys warmly.
'These are the attributes of a lady, of course, Gladys, but there are other things, my dear, which must be considered. If this Miss Peck is to sit at your table, help you to guide your household, and be your constant companion, she must be a very superior person.'
'She was well brought up. I think her father was a surgeon in Boston,' said Gladys ”

“ There will be plenty of other beaus!” Juliette said, tossing her head and pretending to be indifferent. “Well, it is settled that we meet at the depot this evening, Mrs. Wylde?”
“Yes,” replied the lady; and Juliette hurried home to make her arrangements, and to vent her spleen on Norman Wylde by saying to Pansy:
“Norman Wylde won’t go because I have treated him so coldly, Rosalind says; but he may sulk all he chooses. ”

“ Owen told me she saved mother's life. Is it true? Why doesn't mother come?'
'Would you like to see Gladys to-night, Netta?'
'Yes. Will you go and fetch her?'
Rowland found Gladys and Mr Jones in Mrs Saunders' parlour. Gladys said she would take her bonnet off, that she might meet Netta as she used to do at the farm.
Rowland did not know that Gladys had put on the identical print gown that Netta had given her years ago, and which she had kept carefully, in remembrance of her. This and a plain cap transformed her into the Gladys of Netta's recollection, from the Gladys of Miss Gwynne's attiring. ”

“ Here then, next Sunday afternoon, when the good vicar, the Rev. William Wylder, at three o'clock, performed his holy office in reading-desk and pulpit, the good folk from Gylingden assembled in force, saw nothing noticeable in the demeanour or appearance of the great Brandon heiress. A goddess in her aerial place, haughty, beautiful, unconscious of human gaze, and seen as it were telescopically by mortals from below. No shadow of trouble on that calm marble beauty, no light of joy, but a serene superb indifference. ”

“ Altogether, she was a perfect foil to Gladys, and it would have been difficult for almost any man as he sat at that table to say which of the three, mother, daughter, or governess, was really the prettiest. For my own part, I give my vote unreservedly for the countess, but then I am getting somewhat grizzled now and have long been bald; so my liking turns naturally towards ripe beauty. I hate your self-conscious chits of seventeen, who can only chat and giggle; I like a woman who has something to say for herself. ”

“ But when she stood alone in the upper hall, at the door of the vacant guest-room, the candle in her hand, Gladys had a sudden keen intimation that she was herself but human, endowed with muscles susceptible of overstrain, with nerves of sensitive fibre, with instincts importunate with the cry of self-interest, with impulses toward collapse, tears, terrors, anxieties—all in revolt against the sedulous constraint of will. ”