Barbara Rebell

the one thing of which we are tempted to think as

L

l matter the similitude holds good-namely, in the amazing suddenness with which the divine fever will sometimes, nay often, seiz

elves that they are pastmasters in the art of love. Two things in life were to him of absorbing interest-politics and women, and he found, as have done so many of his fell

ut bien tout honneur." He thought no hour wasted which was spent in feminine company: he was tender to the pruderies, submissive to the caprices, and very grat

woman who should be at once lover and friend. But some element, generally that of the selfless tenderness for whic

ampiero, and of which he had become aware at a moment when his youth had made him p

erimental excursion in that most debatable land, le pays du tendre,-he could and would remain faithful, ho

so of allowing nothing for that element of fantasy and surprise which

elity, all these to be merged together in one who could only hope to be linked with he

r sickly woman whose love for him had fallen short of the noblest of all-he had found some of the qualities he regarded as essential to a g

instincts, stand in lieu of mind and heart, and whose whole life is absorbed in the effort to excite feelings which she is determined neither to share nor to gratify. To vivify this

e egotism-suddenly began to love Berwick with that dry, speechless form of passion which sears both the lover and the belov

ne of those scenes of horror which sometimes occur in the lives of men and women and which each participant would give much to blot out from memory. During the interview he shudde

ul to him, and the fact that she was still always trying to throw herself across

bara Rebell, and had spent with her the evening of which he was afterwards to try and reconstitute every moment, to recall every word uttered by either. He had been interested, attracted,

uddenness which had left him defenceless, had come a passion of deep feeling-none of those about them ventured to give that feeling its true name-for the desolate-eyed, confiding creature, who, if now thrown defenceless in his wa

himself in that most happy state when passion seems intensified by respect. James Berwick had hitherto been always able to analyse every stage of

e Barbara, as if vaguely conscious of pursuit, would often take refuge. Jealousy, actual and retrospective jealousy, sharpened the edge of Berwick's feeling,-jealousy of Boringdon, of whom he gathered Barbara had lately seen so much, and

rarely allowed to civilised man, the master of this delicate, sensitive woman, and, when he so pleased, her lover. Who else save the half-Spanish West Indian planter could have brought that

rance, partly in Italy-to which, as she grew to know him better, she often referred, and which had given her a kind of mental cultivation which, to such a man as himself, was peculiarly agreeable. Then, lastly, and most often, he would recall her long sojourn in the lonely West Indian plantation. There, if Grace Johnstone was to be believed, she had at times suffered act

all watched with varying feelings the little d

once offended her by observing, "I should describe you, woman, as a grand old pagan!" There were few things she would not have done to pleasure James Berwick; and that he should enjoy a passing flirtation with Mrs. Rebe

t quality from that with which she had at first credited him, then Mrs. Turke felt full of vague alarm, and she liked to remind hersel

ded Mrs. Turke of another autumn at Chancton, and of other lovers who had found the atmosphere of the Priory strang

hip-they also had thought it within their power to absorb only the sweet, and to reject the bitter, of the feast spread out before them. In those far away days Mrs. Turke had been, to a certain limited extent, the confidante of her mistre

om she had begun to watch so painfully, or by Doctor McKirdy who gave her news of them, she felt like the wounded warrior to whom heralds bring at intervals news of the c

amused, rather cynically amused, at the effect her god-daughter had produced on the austere Boringdon. To see them together, to see his growing infatuation, and Barbara's utter unconsciousness of the feeling which, after the first memorable interview, broug

Rebell's charm was not, in its essence, one of sex. The grim, silent Scottish woman, Madame Sampiero's night attendant, smiled when Barbara came into the room, and Léonie, the French maid, had very early informed her mistress, "Je se

oved nobly-that is, with tenderness and abnegation. To be constantly with Barbara, to talk to her with that entire intimacy made possible by the solitary circumstances of her life, was all he asked as yet. Barbara Rebell, during those same short weeks, was also happy, and

alone free, she told herself that while regretting nothing that had been, she yet would do all in her power to prevent one she loved from going through what she had endured-the more so that, to her mind, James Berwick was not comparable to the man for whom she had her

ifferent a man he would have been without it. Had Barbara Rebell been free, so the paralysed woman now told he

ut Barbara remained in this one matter an enigma to those about her. Madame Sampiero knew-as every woman who has gone through certain experiences is bound to know-the deep secrecy, the deeper self-repression, which human beings, under certain conditions, can exercise

their joint company; and that, so the three who so closely observed her were inclined to think, might be

on of man to woman as inevitable in its manifestations as are any of the other maleficent forces of nature, and for this view-not to go further than his own case

and invariably-and this, to such a nature as his own, seemed the most tragic thing of all-making, while the spell was upon the victims, utter fools of them. Above all had he condemned, with deepest scorn and intolerance-this, doubtless, owing in a measure to his early religious training-that man who allowed himself to feel the slightest attraction for a marrie

he believed in all good faith so easy to avoid. After one determined effort to shake himself free, he had bowed his neck to the yoke, gradually sacrificing all that he h

what had now befallen James Berwick and Barbara Rebell? And yet, as was still apt to be his wont, the old Scotchman blamed the woman far more than the man-for even now, to his mind, man was the

s ye take her to be! I grant her Jamie"-falling back in the eagerness of the discussion on what had been his name for Berwick as a chil

ed, "I am sure it is the first time she

very persuasive manner-very persuasive indeed! That first night before she stumbled into this house, I was only half minded that she should see

me in all honesty," he asked, peering forward at her, meeting with softened gaze the wide open blue eyes, "if you yourself sowe

d he knew that the sounds which issued from between her trembling lips signified, "

you ever were!" The doctor had remaine

ighbourhood, and she was most anxious that the first impression should be wholly favourable. As regarded what Barbara was to wear, success could certainly be achieved; but in whose company she should make her first

occupant of the Priory carriage, and that with this strange-looking cavalier, Barbara should make her appearance at the Castle: in that matter she thought she could trust to Berwick's instinct of what was becoming, and further, she h

ur wit will have to find out another way." There had been a pause, and he added, with one of his c

ch sometimes came over her utterance. But Doctor McKirdy had been thinking carefully over the situation: "Wh

foolish she had been not to have thought of that most natural solution! B

become as intimate with Grace Johnstone's mother as she hoped to do, was made, somewhat against