The Mysterious Key And What It Opened

leman,

e these penciled words, "I beseech you to see me." Lillian stood beside her and saw the line. Their eyes met, and in the

ee him,"

ing breathlessly, "He did not ask for me. I cannot see him yet. I'll hide in

for her, my lady conquered her dislike and often sat there. As she spoke, the girl glided into th

not take the hand, saying, in a voice of grave respect in which was audible an undertone of strong emotion, "Par

nerved himself up to the performance of a difficult but intensely interesting task. Fancying these signs of agitation only natural in a young lover

ngled regret and resolution, as he leaned on a tall chair opposite and wiped his damp

committed against you when a boy. A mistaken sense of duty guided me, and

forgot Lillian, forgot everything but the strange aspect of the man before her, and the words to which she listened like a s

one, promising to send for the wife when all was ready. He told no one of his marriage, meaning to surprise his English friends by producing the lovely woman unexpectedly. He had been in England but a short time when he received a letter from the old priest of the Italian town, saying the cholera had swept through it, carrying off half its inhabitants, his wife and friend among others. This blow prostrated the young man, a

y lady, with white lips, and eyes t

est, came here, learned that Sir Richard was married, and hurried to him in much distress. We can imagine the grief and horror of the unhappy man. In that interview the friend promised to leave all to Sir Richard, to preserve the secret till some means of relief could be found; and with this promise he returned, to guar

motioned him to go on, still sitting rigi

a bit of writing, and the name. The priest was very old, had neither friends, money, nor proofs to help him; but I was strong and hopeful, and though a mere boy I resolved to do the work. I made my way to England, to Trevlyn Hall, and by various stratagems (among which, I am ashamed to say, were false keys and feigned sleepwalking) I collected many proofs, but nothing which would satisfy a court, for no one bu

ady in a faint whisper,

cting a false part, and when I was away my heart failed me. But Helen gave me no peace; for my sake, she urged me to keep the vow made to that poor mother, and threatened to tell the story herself. Talbot's benefaction left me no exc

ied Lady Trevlyn,

e you hid it, not daring to de

anced wildly about the room, as if sh

's keeping, and your strange treasure here, the key of which you guarded day and night. I divined the truth. Remembering Hester's stories, I t

d, I relinquish everything, an

esture, but imploring eyes, for, amid the wreck of womanly pride

blow if I could; but Helen would not keep silent, and I was driven to f

the excitement of that interview, but conscious of only one emotion as she threw herself in

tenderness, her little hand laid caressingly against his cheek, as she whispered with sudden bloom in her own, "Now I know why I love

n, I am not

ho are you?" she cried, te

lover,

dy Trevlyn, springing up, as Lillian

a

threshold of the door, with a hard,

ness, my wrongs, and the natural desire of a child to clear her mother's honor and claim her father's name. I

rk; he shall have the reward. I only want my father's name. Title and fortune are nothing to one like me. I

ee. You chose to claim your own, although I offered all I had to buy your silence. It is

e pressed her hands against her bosom with an expression of deep suffering, exclaiming passionately, "Yes, I will keep it, since I am to lose all else. I am tired

s now?" cried Lady Trevlyn, in a tone of despair, for her spirit was utterly broken

ve loved you from the time when, a romantic boy, I wore your little picture in my breast, and vowed to win you if I lived. I dared not speak before, but now, when ot

ok the two forlorn yet innocent creatures into the shelter of his strength and love. They clung to him ins

of pathetic significance; she still stood on the threshold, for no one had welcomed her, and in the strange room she knew not where to go; her hands were clasped before her face, as if those sightless eyes had seen the joy she could not share, and at her feet lay the time-stained paper that gave her a barren title, but no love. Had Lillian known how sharp a conflict between pas

ait till I

white flakes fluttered from her hands, "I, too, can be generous. I, too, can forgive. I bury the sad past. See! I yield my claim, I destroy my proofs, I promise eternal silence, and keep 'Paul's

d they gave it, as they welcomed her with words that se

faithfully together, never learned how well the old prophecy had been fulf