Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall

OLM

the ineffable tenderness and the passionate longings with which she was filled. With solitude came the memory of John's words and John's kisses. She recalled every movement, every word, every tone, every sensation. She gave her soul unbridled license to feast with joyous ecstasy upon the thrilling memories. All thoughts of her father's cru

to its polished surface, that she might scrutinize

"and 'my Aphrodite' once." Then her thoughts gr

meant all he said," she thought. "I know he meant it. I trust him entirely. But if he should change? Hol

eorge! Pitiable old man! While your daughter laughs, you sigh and groan and moan, and your heart aches with pain and impotent rage. Even drink fails to bring comfort to you. I say impotent rage, because Dorothy is out of your reach, and as surely as the sun rises in the east she is lost to you forever. The years of protection and tender love whi

if parents would cease to feel that they own their children in common with their horses, their estates, and their cattle; if they woul

Dorothy's notice. She paused in the braiding of her hair and held her face close to the mirror that she might inspect the lip, whose beauty John had so ardently admired. She turned her face from one side to the other that she might view it from all points, and then she thrust

ll upon her and her th

he did so, she caught a glimpse of her arm which was as perfectly rounded as the fairest marble of Phidias. She stretched the arm to its full length that the mirror might reflect its entire beauty. Again she thought aloud: "I wish

ll is told Doro

ts polished surface, and again came the thought, "Perhaps some day-" Then she covered the candle, and amid enfolding darkness lay dow

was asleep, but after a f

rothy, who w

Dorothy in surprise. "W

been trying to burn

mean?" again

d been smoking,'

one. I was speaking of-of a man who had been smoking tobacco, as

m's pipe. That is, I held it in my hands for

r a moment, and M

did not learn why Uncle George wished to confine you in the

has come upon me. The greatest happiness of my life has come to pass. Don't

le your father treats you

o be as happy as I may. For my imprisonment in this room I care not a farthing. It does not trouble me, for when I wish to see-see him again, I shall do so. I d

trust me. Is he the gentlem

Dorothy, "he is

laimed Madge i

orse, could it, Ma

!" was the o

" asked Dorothy, whose a

not I will betray y

e is the most beautiful person living. The poor soft beauty of the fairest woman grows pale

emember their appearance. I was twelve y

fulness of her newly acquired knowled

es the man whom she loves,

see him?" qu

her

learned that fac

for a moment and

ear one?" whi

eplied Madge, "because it can come to

Madge begged her not

ss concerning him," said Madg

en upon Dorothy were like the plague that

with Madge's promise that she should be the first one to h

s more willing to receive than to impart in

e scenes at the gate and described what had happened bet

ather such a falsehood?" a

ontinued: "She forgets all else. It will drive her to do anything, however wicked. For some strange cause, under its influence she does not feel the wrong she does. It acts upon a girl's sense of right and wrong as poppy juice acts on pain. Before it cam

sponded Madge, "that wink

d candid Dorot

great evil," said

hy, "but it is not. One instinctively knows

d Sir John tell

g her face even from the fli

ou tel

reply from unde

lence Dorothy un

t this strange love makes one brazen. You, Madge, would die with shame had you sought any man

was all the ans

times if you knew all." Another pau

know he had b

it," respo

hope you did not smoke?" re

r three vain attempts to explain, tenderly p

" returned Madge, although she had some

answered Dorothy, sighin

ou are an immodest

t I don't care-J

" asked Madge. "It certainly is very bea

fter-once," res

seless Madge, "how came he to s

not come to that. I have a poor remnant of modesty left; but the Holy

before the mirror," responded Madge

will say a little prayer to the Virgin to-night. She will hear me, eve

Dorothy dreamed "John, John,

lies to the northward, west of the kitchen, con

feet from the ground and were barred with iron. After Dorothy's sentence of imprisonment, Lady Crawford, or some trusted person in her place, was always on guard in Aunt Dorothy's room to prevent Dorothy's escape, and guards were also stationed in the retainer's room for the same purpose. I tell you this that you may understand the difficulties Dorothy would have to overcome before she could see John, as she declared to Madge she would. But my opinion is that there are no limits to the resources of a wil

tell yo

parlor in the tower. The windows of the room, as I have told you, faced westward, overlookin

ed, and asked her what she wanted with them, but she refused to tell me. She insisted, however, and I promised to fetch the garments to her. Accordingly th

cule the key of the door which opened from her own room into

oler. She smiled, half in sadness, when she told me of the girl's simplicity in thinking she could hoodwink a person of Lady Crawford's age, experience, and wisdom. The old lady took great pride in her own acuteness. The distasteful tas

Crawford's door. When I had entered she locked the door carefully af

Crawford she again took her chair near the candle, put on her great bone-rimmed spectacles, and was soon lost to the world in the pages of "Sir Philip de Comyng

e smiles I had learned to expect from them. I drew a chair near to the window and we talked and laughed together merrily for a few minutes. After

t the window, and I said, "You have

ad gone directly on my return to see my two

or making the suggestion was that I longed to clasp her hand, and

we walked to and fro a deep, sweet contentment filled my heart, and I fe

ing red rays of the sinking sun shot through the panelled window a

over kneeling at the feet of his mistress. Madge and I passed and repassed the illumined scene, and while it was softly fading into s

d in passive silence. The sun's rays had risen as the sun had sunk, and the light was falling like a holy radiance from the gates of paradise upon the girl's head. I looked upward, and never in my e

I gently took her to my arms and kissed her lips again and again and again, and Madge by no sign nor gesture said me nay. She brea

w we sat, speaking little, through the happiest hour of my I life. How dearly do I love to write about

nd cloak. She drew my gauntleted gloves over her hands, buckled my sword to her slim waist, pulled down the broad rim of my soft beaver hat over her face, and turned up the collar of my cloak. Then she adjusted a

n into Aunt Dorothy's apartments. I whispered to Madge requesting her to remain silently by the window, and then I stepped softly over to the door leading into the bedroom. I noiselessly opened the door and entered. From my dark hiding-place in Dorothy's bedroo

t that hour, and the apartment was in deep shadow, save for the light of one flickering candle, clo

she strode about the room was the most graceful and ludicrous movement I ever beheld. I wondered if she though

cloak and hat, in tones that certainly we

lady, too gentle to show the ill-humor she fe

o you read?" re

'" responded Lady Crawford. "Have you read

ad it many times." There was no need for that little f

ked Aunt Dorothy, perhaps for lack of anything else

l like it all. Perhaps-ah-perhaps I p

urgundy," returned Aunt Dorothy. "Oh, Malcolm, I know upon

ant style of which I was really proud. "She who has caused so much of that sort of

a gentleman to keep in practice in such matters,

practice, don't they?" said Doroth

nt Dorothy with a toss of her head. "I surely don't value

clined, was much quicker of wit than Malco

ntlemen like it,

ve been reading Sir Philip's account of the death of your fa

many times, was compelled to admit that he

plied Lady Crawford. "Sir Philip says that Mar

England," was the answer that came f

re heard so ungallant a speech from your lips."-"And

t be valued so highly by young women nowada

is not," inter

ngland are modest and seemly in their conduct, and th

hy should ruin my rep

, "consider Dorothy and Madge to

dear Lady Crawford, I predict another end for her than death from modesty. I thank Heaven the di

r caution, and for the moment it caused her

Dorothy," retorted Lady Crawford. "She i

not agree with you

aunt. "Her father's conduct c

me pain," said D

urning with quickened interest toward my other self, "who, suppose

answered Malcolm No. 2. "Surely a mo

plied Aunt Dorothy, testily. "Ma

th truth,"

e window. I do pity my niece with all my heart, and in good truth I wish I could help her, though of course I would not have her know my feeli

said the lovelorn young woman. "I a

to act as she did. Why, even Mary of Burgundy, with all her modesty, won t

the man she wants?" said Malcolm, si

Sir George told me as much this morning when he started for Derby-town to arrange for the signing of the marriage contract within a day or two. He

ed her head

good match, Malcolm. I pity Dorothy; but it is m

l, and that she is full of disturbing expedients? Now I am willing to wager my beard that she will, sooner than you suspect, see her lover. And I am also willing to l

wares by a mere child like Dorothy. It makes me laugh, Malcolm-although I am sore at heart for Dorothy's sake-it makes me laugh, with a touch of tears, when I think of poor simple Dorothy's

s grow keen as the otter's fur grows thick for the winter's need. I do not know your niece's pl

is fortunate in having for his daughter a guardian who cannot be hoodwinked and who is tru

with all my heart,"

in the conversation

l you kindly unlock the door a

enough to be left alone with her belove

reatly fear that Dorothy-" but the door closed on t

Why should he fear for Dorothy? I hope I shall not again be