Wife in Name Only

ild--his dying wife's legacy--was the one object in life, that she was all that remained to him of a love that had been dearer than life itself.

may have had some monetary trouble, and so have desired to keep her whereabouts a secret; but some one or other will know. If

the rector saw signs of great agitation. He rang for wine, but Lord Mount

d the rector the st

ot do better for the little one than

ornham, I do not think, if she had been her own, she could have loved her better. Whatever else may have gone wrong, take m

is some comfort. But why did no on

re claimed by some distant cousin, who now lives in his house. I was asked to look over his papers, but

ntdean l

self placed in his charge all the papers necessa

t they consisted?

little daughter's birth, and an agreement between the doctor and myself as t

knew your name, t

e to be known to my father until I myself could tell him--and I know how fast suc

Darnley. "For I certainly

ps, which stood on a sideboard. I rem

o the house where his cousin, Mr. Grey, resides, and see if the article is in his po

nd Mr. Grey at home. He was surprised when he heard the name and

have nothing of the kind in my possession; but, if your

examined in vain. There was no tra

house contained--it was taken the day after his

contained no mention of a small oaken box. It was q

en them into Mrs. Dornham'

w the child's surname. I remember once asking her about it; she said it was a long name, and that she cou

rally lay on the top of it. How long it had been out of sight when the doctor died she did not know, but she had never seen it since. Then they drove to the bank, thinking that, pe

ll tell the whole world--if it cares to listen--the story of my marriage. If I had wanted to keep that or the birth of my child a secret, I could have

then Lord Mountdean devoted himself t

disappearance of his child. Large rewards were offered to any one who could bring the least information. Not co

disappear from the face of the earth witho

aying that she, with her husband, was going to live at a distance, and that they did not care about taking it with them. He remembered having asked her where she was going, but she evaded any reply. He could tell no more. He showed

e succeeded in obtaining was a very faint one, he had some r

t every inch of ground had been examined. It was all without result--

ould cry, in despair. "Why has she taken the

passionate love for the little one was

guish and sorrow were pitiful to witness; but after a time he grew passive in his despair. He never relaxed in his efforts. Every six months the advertisements with the offers of reward were renewed; every six months the story was retold in the papers. It had become one of the common topics of the day. People talked of the Earl of Mountdean's daughter, of her strange dis

Proud, beautiful, and wealthy, when she most needed her mother's care that mother died, leaving her sole mistress of herself. She was but seventeen then, and was known as one of the wealthiest heiresses and loveliest girls of the day. Her first step was, in the opinion of the world, a wise one; she sent for a widowed cousin, Lady Peters, to liv

e was in it a faint breath of the budding chestnuts, the hawthor

le-rose silk and white lace the pictures and statues were gems of art, a superb copy of the Venus of Milo gleaming white and shapely from between the folds of rose silk, also a marble Flora, whose basket was filled with purple heliotropes, and a Psyche that was in itself

illed with flowers, fragrant mignonette, lemon-scented verbenas, purple heliotropes, all growing in rich profusion. The spray of the littl

duced those rich, marvelous colors; that perfect, queenly beauty. He would have painted the picture, and the world would have raved about its beauty. The dark masses of waving hair; the lovely face with its warm Southern tints; the dark eyes lighted with fire and passion; the perfect mouth with its proud, sweet, imperial, yet tender lips; the white, dimpled chin; the head and face unrivaled in their glorious contour; the straight, dark brows that could frown and yet soften as few other brows could; the white neck, half hidden, half revealed by

as though her thoughts were very pleasant ones; then she took up a volume of poems, read a few lines, an

hose hands mo

calm, low voice; "watching a cl

usical tones, "when I cease to be y

epose. She was richly dressed in a robe of black moire, and she wore a cap of point lace; her snowy hair was braided back from a broad white brow; her face wa

his note, did he

one to be always strictly punctual; a hund

to see me, he would not let a

very flattering to him if he kn

lways loved him better than the whole

y such things if I were you, unless I had h

eiress laughed a brig

ink it likely that he will long remain indifferent t

that I am afraid of being sanguine," said La

ng then--I am young now, but I feel years older. He came down to Verdun Royal to bid us good

d the light shone in her splendid eyes--there w

ife, Philippa,' she said, and I laughed at his gravity. We were standing underneath a great flowering lilac-tree--the green leaves and the sweet flowers were still wet with the rain. I remember it so well! I drew one of the tall fragrant sprays down, and shaking the rain-drops from it, kissed it. I can smell the rich, moist odor now. I never see a lilac-spray or smell its sweet moisture after rain but that the whole scene rises before me again--I see the proud, handsome face that I love so dearly, the clear skies and the green trees. 'How long shall you be away, Norman?' asked him. 'Not more than two ye

looked anxio

ment between you and Lord Ar

"He never made love to me, if that is what you mean--he never a

" asked L

ve seen them sitting on the lawn, while Norman and I played together. Then they were always talking about the time we should be married. 'Philippa will make a beautiful Lady Arleigh,'

then, and it was perh

ted, my mother said to me, 'Philippa, you are sure to be very much admired; but remember, I consi

lled you his little wife--because your mother and his were dear friends, and liked the arrangement--it does not follow that he would like it, or that he would choose the play

. He has been in England only two days

dy Peters. "Oh, my darling, be careful! Do not g

r be recalled, no matter what I get in return. Why, it i

from the couch and went

y Peters sighed as she listened. "The world has never looked so beautif

ppellation maman. She turned to her now, with a charming smile. She sho

est to-day. I want Norman to be a little surprised when he sees me.

very queen of beauty,"

curved the lovel

e for anxiety, none for fear. You will soon be wonderi

you say or do, Philippa, if you find that, during his travels, he has learned to love some one else? He has visited half the courts o

iful face

that case. He belonged to me before he belonged to a

s word wer

be war to the knife; and I have an

ady Peters, "if yo

o burning hate at times. If I failed I should seek revenge

e, a light shone in the depth of her splendid dark eyes; the scarlet lips trembl

announced a serv

et him. She held out her hand; but words failed her, a

of wonder. "I expected to find you cha

atly altered

pretty school-girl--I find you a que

hen after introducing Lady Peters, she added:

d that she detected some little embarrassment in his manner. Of one thing she was quite su

t by Philippa's side, but in one of the

range. "It seems strange," he went on, "that your mother and mine, after being such true friends in life, should die within a

" put in Lady Peters, "by the g

rleigh

terrogated. "I hope, Lady Peters, that

it likely," sa

ing his attention turned, even

of your travels--of what you have seen an

ds, Philippa," he said; "

k eyes as they glanced at Lady Peters. He told her briefly

s you have, Philippa! You

he vases and held it before him. Again

ilac, and what you sai

in flower, and I never looked at the beautiful blooming trees w

e 'cousin?'" she a

d up in

usin, are you

in," she said; "and you hav

miss I am!" he exclaimed, suddenly. "You will think that I have forgotte

" she asked, h

ar that you are the belle of the season--that you have slain dukes, earls, marquises, and baronets indiscrimin

spray of lilac down without any further remark, half disappointed that he should speak in that

mmons for Mrs. Peters; she was

l tell me that he is pleased to see me. He wi

t she had been reading lately--which was the book of that season. She replied to his

she cried at last. "Tell me more about

he slight flush that

id, "I should prefer you to be the subject

ce, with its scarlet lips and glorious eyes--the white hands that moved so incessantly. He owned to hi

ind me what you call bea

ud of you--proud to be known as t

t he could not see love in the girl's face--so deaf that he could not hear it i

iends, Norman," she sai

er," he responded, "How we quarrele

sister, Norman. We did not call each ot

s pretty enough for you,

er eyes sudd

" she said, gently. "Tell me the truth--in your trave

tly calm and

ave really made no friends abroad for whom I care

content,"

ere. Their conversation was the intimate exchange of thought of old friends; but there was nothing of love. If she had expected that he would avail himself of Lady Peters' absence to speak of it, she

e said; "you will give me permission to

is yours," she answered but he did not u

in and asked if he wou

ve never had one quiet evening since the

e just now, Norman; but I will give up my ball and stay a

ed. "I will come. All your disappointed partners

ou. Now I can let you go more willingly,

poke but little; once she clasped her arms rou

ice;" and Lady Peters watched her anxiously, as she stood with a rapt

, fortune, and wealth had now fallen. He had inherited also the far-famed Arleigh beauty. He had clear-cut features, a fair skin, a fine manly frame, a broad chest, and erect, military bearing; he had dark hair and eyes, with straight, cl

evinced the greatest affection for her cousin, the gentle Lady L'Estrange. She had paid long visits to Verdun Royal, always taking her son with her; and his earliest recollection was of his mother and Lady L'Estrange sitting side by side planning the marriage of their two children, Philippa and Norman. He could remember many of his mother's pet phrases--"So

ve, but he had begun to think very seriously about Philippa L'Estrange. He had been fond of her as a child, with the kind of affection that often exists between children. He had called her his "little wife" in jest, not in earnest. He had listened to the discussions between the two ladies as he would have listened had they been talking about adding a new wing to the house. It was

lliancy did not charm him. Even when, previously to going abroad, he had gone down to Verdun Royal to say good-by, there was not the least approach to love in his heart. He had thought Philippa very c

no lover's kiss that fell so lightly on her lips. He realized to himself most fully the fact that, although he l

-he would not believe it. She had been a child like himself; perhaps even she had forgotten the nonsense more completely than he himself had. On his return to England, the firs