Lady Rose's Daughter

southward from the Marble Arch to his luncheon with Lady Henry, was gladly conscious of the warmth of his fur-collared coat, thoug

Warkworth in the slim, soldierly figure of the man. And the lady? There also, with the help of his glasses, he was soon informed. Her trim, black hat and her black cloth costume seemed to

d Lady Henry were to be alone at luncheon; Mademoiselle Julie had, no doubt, her own quarters and attendants. But she seemed to be on her way home.

about no doubt to say good-bye, but, very clearly, loath to say it. They were, indeed, in earnest conv

d man, in some astonishment, as he turned away. "H

on of Harry Warkworth was not a very high one, in spite of the brilliant distinction which the young man had earned for himself in the Afridi campaign just closed. But how was he to ha

markable physical resemblance, he was practically certain that he had guessed the secret of Mademoiselle Le Breton's parentage.

sors some great joys, hardly to be balanced against a final sum of pain. Her husband, absorbed in his military life, silent, narrowly able, and governed by a strict Anglicanism that seemed to carry with it innumerable "shalts" and "shalt nots," disagreeable to the natural man or woman, soon found her a tiring and trying companion. She asked him for what he could not gi

lonel Delaney he was an "agitator," if not a rebel; and the careless pungency of his talk soon classed him as an atheist besides. In the case of Lady Rose, this man's free and generous nature, his independence of money and convention, his passion for the things of the mind, his contempt for the mode, whether in dress or politics, his light evasions of the red tape of life as of something that no one could reasonably expect of a vagabond like himself--these things presently transformed a woman in despair

gton never saw her again. And there was a young sister whom she had brought up, whose image could often rouse in her a sense of loss that showed itself in occasional spells of silence and tears. But substantially she never repented what she had done, although Colonel Delaney made the penalties of it as heavy as he could.

sently born to Lady Rose

t the Park end of Bruton St

! I remember n

s, he was accosted with sudden careless familiarity by a thin, shabbily dressed man, in whose dark distinction, made stil

now poetic, with which Dalrymple had shown him the treasures of the gallery, in the manner of one

his own question

, I think, if you want to come. She has scarcely

bby stateliness of its architecture matching plaintively with the field of beet-root that grew up to its very walls; around it the flat, rich fields, with their thin lines of poplars; the slow, canalized streams; the unlovely farms and cottages; the mire of the lanes; and, shrou

She and Dalrymple were almost vegetarians, and wine never entered the house save for the servants, who seemed to regard their employers with a real but half-contemptuous affection. He remembered

om ?schylus and Euripides, which represented his favorite hobby; on hers the socialist and economical books they both studied and the English or French poets they both loved. The walls, hung with the faded damask of a past generation, were decorated with a str

s high crest of black hair, its large, jealous eyes, its elfin hands, and the sudden smile with which, after half an h

neglected garden, the anguish in her eyes as they turned to look after the

say anything! We've just saved enough money to g

eath of Marriott Dalrymple, as of a man once on the threshold of fame, but long since exiled from the thoughts o

the centre and apparently the chief attr

r or the father, if what I suppose is true!" thought Sir Wilfrid, re

a growing eagerness, and was

oom," said the butler, and Sir W

he entered. "I prefer to come down-stairs by myself. The more infirm I am, the less I like i

d themselves almost side by side at the la

ady shook

brought up with people who lunched

gested Sir Wilfrid, attacking his own

wish we had th

ssors don't

ry shook

longer enough Whigs even to do that. I wouldn't rea

ir Wilfrid; "you let Mont

movement. "What a poseur! He lets the army go to r

d raised h

e said, gently pushing the admirable salmi which the

enry l

e men are gone"--she nodded towards the butler and

l brown hair gathered into a knot on the top of her head, a high waist, a blue waist-ribbon, and inflated sleeves. Handsome, imperious, the corners of the mouth well down, the look straight and daring--the Lady Henry of the picture, a bride of nineteen, was already formidable. And the old woman sitting beneath it, with the strong, white hair, which the ample cap found some difficulty even now in taming and confining, the droop of the mouth accentuated,

osed upon the servants

ave you

thoughtfully as he stirr

d. "She is Lady Rose

gave a su

ed you to guess!

e face, or some face just like it, before. And, lastly, at the Foreign O

likeness is extraordinary. Isn't it amazing th

ows no

t his music and his water-colors, and his flirtations--seventy-four, if you please, last birthday!--ta

d s

coffee-cup with the ill-suppressed vehemence which any mention of her companio

at I not only knew this lady's mother and fat

Henry looked

visit to that ménage, fo

then? I myself only saw Lady Rose once, so far as I remember, before she misconducted hersel

shes. He bent over his coffee-cup and daintily knocked of

have--not been

enry p

But it was pitifully evident that even so equipped she saw but little, and that her strong nature fretted perpetually against the physical infirmity that te

nd gave the little reminiscence in full. When he

her mother's attentions to you? She watched you, and in the end she to

ale is done," said Sir Wilfri

's face gr

RY LISTEN

. "What did your tale mat

was as follows, put in

een during a short period of her infancy. It was natural that Lady Rose should leave the child to her care. Indeed, she had no choice. An old Ursuline nun, and a kind priest who at the nun's instigation occasionally came to see her, in the hopes of converting her, were her only other friends in the world. She wrote, however, to her father, shortly before her death, bidding him good-bye, and asking him to do something for the child.

nged matters. An allowance of a hundred pounds a year was made to Madame Le Breton, through the "honest lawyer" whom Lady Rose had found, for the benefit of "Julie Dalrymple," the capital value to be handed over to that young lady herself o

mother's death, of having her baptized straightway into the Catholic faith, and she made her première communion in their church. In the course of a few years she became a remarkable girl, the source of many anxieties to the nuns. For she was not only too clever for the

e the bargain was finally struck, were candid enough. However, now I come to the moment when I first set eyes on her. You know my little place in Surrey? About a mile from me is a manor-house belonging to an old Catholic family, terribly devout and as poor as church-mice. The

made a murmu

how I was going to keep my circle here together, and my own mind in decent repair, unless I could find somebody to be eyes for me, and to read to me. And as I'm a bundle of nerves, and I never was agreeable to illiterate people, nor they to me, I was rather put to it. Well, one day these

ed an excepti

enry l

my own voice now, poor fool, and see her flush up. Ah!" Lady Henry's interjection dropped to a note of rage that almost upset Sir Wilfrid's gravity; but he restrained himself, and she resumed: "We talked for two hours; it seemed to me ten minutes. I sent the others out to the gardens. She stayed with me. The new French books, the theatre, poems, plays, novels, memoirs, even politics, she could talk of them all; or, rather--for, mark you, that's her gift--she made m

ssly on the table. Her memory seemed to be wandering angrily

, "so you engaged her as lectrice

ttle personal belongings of various kinds, that wanted explaining. So I laid traps for her; I let her also perceive whither my own plans were drifting. She did not wait to let me force her hand. She made up her mind. One day I found, left carelessly on the drawing-roo

Wilfrid, smiling. Lady Henry returned the smile un

quarters. Anyway, she soon showed me books, letters--from Lady Ro

es of them in London. I know them all, or nearly all, and of course you'll come across them. But unless you can hold your tongue, don't come to me. Julie Dalrymple has disappeared, and I'll be no party to her resurrec

ay be favored with i

laughed unc

ell lies," she sai

s you that t

ry's loo

nest ones," she

fully, "some sort were indispens

l to perfection. I told people that I had discovered her through a Belgian acquaintance. Every one was amazed at her manners, her intelligence. She was perfectly modest, perfectly well behaved. The old Duke--he died six months after she came to me

absolutely necessary!" s

y I didn't. That state of things lasted, more or less, about a yea

ts last night," said S

back from the table. Her h

same even with my servants. I can trust none of them where she is concerned. I am alone in my own house. My blindness makes me her tool, her plaything. As for my salon, as you call it, it has become hers.

come purple. Lady H

ly, laying a calming hand on her arm, "do

said Lady Henry, bitterly. "You don't know how I have been isolated and betrayed! And I

Sir Wilfrid, looking up sharply, remember

night," said Lady Henry, slowly, "o

e a pair of eyes that struggled to see and could not. But the effect

e said. "Jacob Delaf

what that means--what Jacob's possibilities are? Kindly recollect that Chudleigh has one boy--one sickly, tuberculous boy--who might die any day. And Chudleigh

Sir Wilfrid, throwin

riumph. "Now you can understand what

was heard

id Lady Henry

reton appeared on the threshold, carry

humbly, "that I am taking the dogs out. Sha