Marion Arleigh's Penance Part 8

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "You are so kind, Lord Ridsdale, that I may tell you of what I was thinking. I was wis.h.i.+ng that this great privilege I now enjoy could be given to my brother instead of me."

Lord Ridsdale looked benevolently interested, and she continued:

"I have but one relative in the world, an only brother, and he is an artist. He lives on his art, and I was thinking what a privilege he would consider it of what benefit it would be to him, if he could see those pictures."

"Your brother is an artist! I see no reason why he should not profit by this really beautiful collection of pictures. Would he like to visit Thorpe Castle, do you think?"

"You are too kind, Lord Ridsdale. I should say it would be a glimpse of paradise to him."

"Then by all means. Miss Lyster, write and ask him. I cannot extend the invitation for any lengthened period, as we have so many visitors, but if he will come for a week I shall be delighted to see him."

She thanked him until his lords.h.i.+p was in a perfect glow of benevolence to think what a kind and generous action he had performed. His wife did not look quite so pleased when he told her; but then, my Lord Ridsdale was not a man of great observation.

CHAPTER X.

As a result of the conversation in the picture-gallery the young artist, in compliance with an invitation of Lord Ridsdale, came over to Thorpe Castle. Long before he came Marion had grown sick of the deception and weary of the chains that bound her.

She was naturally so frank, so open, that the need for concealment troubled her greatly. She had the warmest affection for Lady Ridsdale.

She would have liked above all things to have trusted and confided in her. It was torture to the girl to think that she was helping others to keep secret from her that which she ought to know. She shrank from Miss Lyster. She no longer cared to be beguiled by long walks in the shrubbery, to hear nothing but praises of "my brother," and the oft-told tale of his love for her. a.s.sociation with refined, honorable, high-minded people was doing its work with her; anything approaching deceit, falsehood or meanness revolted her.

Those were not the best possible dispositions in which Allan could find her. He had not reckoned upon these better influences; he had not thought that when she came to contrast his behavior with that of others she would see how deficient in all honor and manliness it had been; he trusted to the glamor of love, and behold! there had been no love on her part; nothing but gratified vanity.

He was very pleased to go to Thorpe Castle--he thought nothing would advance his cause more than for her to meet him among her own cla.s.s, meet him as her equal in some respects, if not in all.

"I am so happy," said Adelaide Lyster to her on the morning of the day on which he was expected. "I am so very happy, Marion, and you"--

But no answering enthusiasm shone in Miss Arleigh's face, and Adelaide noticed it.

"Allan will enjoy himself so much here," she continued. "Ah! Marion, the sight of you will be like suns.h.i.+ne to flowers to him."

But Miss Arleigh did not look delighted; she was thinking more of how she could keep such a secret from her good, kind guardians than of any pleasure in meeting her lover.

He came; she lingered by Lady Ridsdale's side during his reception. The thought did certainly pa.s.s through Lord Ridsdale's mind that Allan Lyster was very young and very handsome to be drawing-master of a young ladies' school; but not for the world would he have breathed such a thought to any one living, lest it should injure him. Lord Ridsdale was courtesy itself to his young guest. He pointed out to him the finest pictures; he took him over the woods to show him where the most picturesque scenery lay; he took him to the library and introduced to his notice some of the finest works of art.

When they came to compare notes Lord and Lady Ridsdale quite disagreed over Allan. The gentleman liked him, he thought him clever, gifted and intellectual; Lady Ridsdale, with the keener sense belonging to women, read his character more clearly.

"He is not true," she said. "His eyes have never once met mine with a frank, clear look; either he has something to conceal, or his natural disposition is anything but candid."

Lady Ridsdale did not like him, but with some of the visitors at Thorpe Castle he was very popular. His talents were appreciated and admired.

One gentleman, Sir Thomas Ashburnham, ordered a picture from him; another purchased a series of sketches; and a third invited him to a grand old castle in the North where he could make himself familiar with some of the finest rugged scenery in Scotland.

So that in one sense his visit was a complete success. He increased his social importance; he made friends who would be of great value to him; but, so far as Marion was concerned, it was a complete, dead failure. He had expected long interviews with her; he had thought of long and pleasant hours in the grounds; he had pictured to himself how she would renew her vows of fidelity to him; how she would listen, as she had done before, to his love-making, and perhaps even seem fonder to him than she had ever done before.

Instead of which she certainly shrank from him. Never once during the whole of his stay at Thorpe Castle did he contrive to get one tete-a-tete with her. If he wrote a little note asking her to meet him in the shrubbery or the grounds, or to give him five minutes in the conservatory, her answer was always that she was engaged. If he rose earlier than usual, hoping to meet her in the breakfast-room, she invariably remained later than usual upstairs. He could not, contrive as he would, obtain five minutes with her. In vain he asked his sister to manage an interview for him; Marion seemed instinctively aware of what she wanted. When Miss Lyster suggested a walk in the garden, Marion, knowing that her brother would be sure to appear, declined it. Her only safeguard lay in continually seeking Lady Ridsdale's society.

"The dear child is so warmly attached to me!" said the mistress of Thorpe Castle to her husband. "It is really wonderful."

While Allan and his sister began to feel, with something of baffled rage, that their power over her was growing less.

"Why do you never consent to see my brother?" asked Adelaide one day, when Allan had complained most bitterly to her.

"Because I have such great respect for my guardians," she answered. "I cannot bear anything clandestine or underhand beneath their roof."

A reply that, strange to say, silenced Miss Lyster. Brother and sister held a council of war, and it was decided that all deference must be paid to her humor.

"Content yourself, brother, with reminding her of her promise to marry you when she comes of age, but do no more. Do not seek an interview with her; let her imagine herself quite free."

But the finis.h.i.+ng stroke was given one day during lunch, when the conversation turned upon the elopement of a young lady in the neighborhood. Lady Ridsdale expressed great fears for her future.

"He is not a gentleman," she said. "No true gentleman would ever try to persuade any girl to a clandestine engagement."

She saw Marion open her eyes and look at her in amazement.

"I am quite right, my dear," she said. "You may depend upon it, a man who would persuade any girl to engage herself to him unknown to her friends is not only no gentleman, but he is not even an honest man."

Marion Arleigh's beautiful face flushed, then grew deadly pale; almost involuntarily she looked at Allan, but he did not raise his eyes to meet hers.

Those words were the death-blow to her love, or what she called her love--"Not even an honest man." This hero of her romance, this artist whom she was to enn.o.ble by her love, was not even an honest man. She shuddered and grew faint at the thought.

Again she was present when Lady Ridsdale was talking of the Lysters to her husband. She praised Allan's artistic qualities, she admired his talents, but she owned frankly that she did not like him, that she did not think him true.

Marion Arleigh was very much struck with this remark. Then she began to think over all she knew of the Lysters. She saw all in the clear light of reason, not in the glamor of love, and her judgment condemned them both. The sister had been false to her trust; she had betrayed the youth and innocence of the pupil entrusted to her, and he--she summed up the evil he had done her in these few words--he was not true.

She decided upon what to do. She would never be false to them; all her life long she would do her best to advance Allan's interest; but she must release herself from the tie that became unbearable to her.

He, at this difficult juncture of affairs, behaved with great tact. He took his sister's advice, and would not intrude upon her. He sought no more interviews; he wrote no more notes.

"He sees," thought Marion, "that my eyes are open, and he wisely intends to let me go free. He sees that I understand he has acted dishonorably in taking advantage of my youth, and he is, perhaps, sorry for it."

So, in proportion as he ceased to importune her, she grew kinder to him.

She talked to him about his pictures, and the progress he was making. He showed her sketches of pictures that he intended to paint, but the word love was never mentioned.

The time came now for Miss Lyster to return to her school duties. She was not affected, but she felt the deepest sorrow. It was not pleasant to leave such a home as Thorpe Castle for the drudgery of a school. But she could see plainly if that visit was to be renewed she must go, and make no sign.

Brother and sister were profuse in their thanks; they expressed the deepest grat.i.tude to Lord and Lady Ridsdale; they professed themselves overcome with benefits. Lord Ridsdale received all these thanks with great complacency, feeling that he deserved them. Lady Ridsdale's impression was:

"I am glad they are gone, though I do not like to interfere in Marion's affairs. I shall certainly advise her to drop that acquaintance as soon as she can."

Allan bade Marion "good-bye." His last words to her were:

"I shall not seek to correspond with you clandestinely--nothing but the fervor of my love can possibly excuse my having met you as I did. I loved you, so I forgot prudence, ceremony, etiquette, and all. But, Marion, you will remember that you are my promised wife."