The Aberystwith Observer

MY CHILD AND HIS; QR, WHAT CHRISTMAS BROUGHT TO GLADYS CURZON. Iftir CLEMENTINE MONTAGU. 4ruthor of Atherstone Grange," <fc, [ALL RIGHTS reserved.} It « f CHAPTER I. SUNSHINE. Jl fair night—a night of beauty and radiance-the quiet world lying cold and still under the bright stars, kind soft sounds of bells floating far and wide from the old steeple of Ashton Royal, telling all whom it lbight concern, in that lovely border nook where England and Wales joined by the side of the rippling S^ye, that Christmas was coming—that the day of «ays in our Christian Church would dawn upon our hemisphere in a tiny space of time. Ashton Reyal was an old-world place-the great fiouse in the park where the lord of all the land about lived-and the village that lay about the park gates #)ore the same name. The people were all retainers •^>f Lord Lanreath, and lived far enough from the busy world to believe in their innocent hearts that their gentry were the greatest people in the whole kingdom. Lord Lanreath was very poor; there was not a tloubt about that; but he managed to be a good land" Jtrd, and his tenants and retainers liked him. There as very little state kept up at the great house, which ad stood—part of it at least — since the fair Jlosamond Clifford turned the heads of all the ountry-side with her beauty, and went to her death through its fatal influence and the jealousy of an. through its fatal influence and the jealousy of an. ,"ry woman. Clifford Castle-nothing now but mounds of grassy ruin-was in sight of the upper trindows of Ashton Royal, and its master claimed flescent from the Lanreath who had flourished there in the beauty's time. It was all a little hazy, as old descents unless entirely unbroken have come to be. There was a record of a certain Hugh Lornet who had held the froperty in those olden days but he had come to rief in some quarrel with the Church, and for a long period of years there was indisputable proof that the old house had been a monastery, and that the country round had been as a huge larder for the benefit of the holy men who ruled there. Then there had come a time of confusion, and then the family of Lanreath established itself somehow, to ose house, home, and lands with the unlucky Charles Stuart. There had been sorrow and suffering, hiding Of plate and jewels, and dire poverty-almost ex- unction but the Restoration bad set all right again, j&nd there had been an unbroken line of Lanreaths fiver since. They had rollicked and diced and drank lifter the fashion of the times, till very little was left Jo them but the title, till the violent death of the heir of the house some 50 years before the date of this story had sent the property to another branch of the family, and the father of the present Baron Lan- ,reath-a long-beaded lawyer, Thomas Curzon by Hame—had set about retrieving as far as he might the broken fortunes of his race. He had succeeded beyond his hopes, though his son was still what was ■Considered very poor for his position. He was rather stern in his manner, though he was liked by everyone who knew him, and loved with a reverential affection by his daughter. One fair daughter and no more," like Jephtha of old, had the lord of Ashton Royal. His young wife had given her life for her child's; and the world had held no other ^oman for the sorrow-stricken widower. Gladys Curzon was curiously like some of the old portraits p the long, dim picture gallery. She belonged, with- out a doubt, to the race which had ruled there since the days of the Second Charles, and her father used laughingly to declare that she was the most like the One who was said to have been the most wilful One who was said to have been the most wilful Amongst them—a certain Lady Anabel, who had thought the world well lost for love, and had gone with the man of her choice, and married him, dropping title, and rank, and all for his dear Cake. But Gladys was only a child as yet-not out—wild thoughtless, her governess declared (though Miss Dalrymple was more of a friend than a governess, now ^jhat her pupil was seventeen) and on this Christmas five, at half-past eleven o'clock at night, to that Worthy lady's dismay* she was not to be found. The =- Ant xrp it> Us Miss Dalrymple had been lying down all the evening with a bad sick head- ache—a malady she much affected when she felt dull out of humour—and Gladys, nothing loth, had left to her own devices. ^he servants had not seen her, and Miss Dalrymple, ♦hough very much put about, would neither question y enaj except in a casual manner, nor say a word to *-l0rd Lanreath. She went down to the morning I'oom she usually occupied with her charge, and Looked out on to the starlight night. A slight sound «ade her open the window, and the sound of a girlish Voice sweet and low, singing softly as if to herself, ^ttie to her ears. She stepped out, and sure enough little figure was coming along the terrace—Gladys herself, a soft white shawl wrapped carelessly round head and shoulders, and her dress trailing behind with a rapid swish," as she ran towards the open "Indow fr ^iss Dalrymple," she exclaimed, I thought My dear child," returned the lady, too much to speak as indignantly as she would have Wtshed, where have you been ?" Out," wis the short reply. Don't be angry, I wouldn't help it, I had to." <( Had to, child; what do you mean ?" I mean that the night tempted me—look at it. ■*j»ook at the stars shining down like jewels; look at y16 trees all glistening; look at the still, quiet world, living thing listening to the joy bells." Yes, dear," said Miss Dalrymple quietly. She was of the most prosaic and matter-of-fact of mortals. But you could have heard the bells and seen etars and trees just as well from the window here. •here have you been ?" "Round the terrace, across the park corner, and through the copice—just one end of it," replied **iadys; without the slightest hesitation; and she jpoke the literal truth. What a lovely world it hen n'^t' an^ am kappiesk it I verily Bu^?s Dalrymple looked at her pupil with a little blTu'88' Gladys was a bright girl in a general way, Jthe and happy, albeit now and then rebelling gainst what she called the stupidness of Ashton to°^' *"here was a new light in her eyes j. a new something in her manner, as if she i-f suddenly taken a leap forward in the journey of k0r childhood behind her. ctear," she said again, and Gladys winced SU ^tle. That formal My dear was gene- „ythe prelude to something disagreeable. it J^here did you say you had been ?" she asked. t°ld you," Gladys said rather shortly. J-es, y68—j did not mean that; I meant were m al°ne ?" 6 ^I's face flushed ever so little, and a look of Jtreu36 astonishment came into her bright eyes. Alone!" she repeated. Why, who is there to S with me ? You were asleep, and papa was buried thef-016 dreadful book. Besides, he never is sympa- ° about stars and bells and pretty things; he Tf • wor^ too hard for fancies." hehi *8 aP^ *i0 ^0 when we have left middle life *&Ust US'" ^*83 Dalrymple said. I suppose I scold you, as you have come back safe and y to herT'if P*^ beyond telling," Gladys said, half th. But o not let your fancies run away with you in v'OY again. Ramble by daylight if you must Hjgiji °ut like a peasant girl. Do not do it at ilaiirv,0r the world may think that Lord Lanreath's o a ii j er is a little crazy." '<&>•« « a^raid Lord Lanreath's daughter doesn't "M TB farthing *n ar Gladys, wherever did you pick up such .fission ?" the know, Well, a jot or a tittle—that's in bin n0t '8n't it—what anyone thinks. I know I except with joy and love of this beau- t^ea.ant) world. You should have seen the gleam «rj>v riyer." jUtat?"6 riVer' child. Have you been as far as The i, tood of the picturesque Wye was a the thu away» an<* ^88 Dalrymple shuddered t her pupil having wandered such a lftduCe<i ? ni^ht and alone. Nothing would have to go beyond the garden-fence after ghoata tu ,a^ a standing dread of robbers and And all °ygh she did not confess to the latter fear, W »r,„80r B of horrors that she could hardly have a riara's to. ee, I went m far m that." Gladys said with much composure, "and I have come back alive to tell it." It must be the last time, child. I shall have to tell your father if you persist in roaming about like this. You went out in the dark one night last week." It was while you were having tea at the vicarage; it was ever so much nicer than sitting in that stuffy parlour, but it was nothing like to-night; every sound of those joy bells went straight to my heart, and found an answering echo there; it is a lovely world." It did look a lovely world, certainly, as the two stood by the open window, Gladys totally unheedful of the cold air that was blowing in; and Miss Dalrymple, a little troubled, she scarce knew why, and a little puzzled by the nameless something in the manner of her charge, was forgetful of her own pr cious health, and laying up a fit of influenza to be developed later on. Star-gazing on Christmas-Eve ?" said a voice behind them, and a hand was laid tenderly on the shoulder of the wilful Gladys. Yes, papa," she said and, listening, I think the bells have never sounded so sweetly as they do to- night." Tastes differ," Lord Lanreath said, with a little laugh. It was he who bad come behind the pair. I have been listening to them for some time, and I had a great mind to send down to ask what they were about. I am afraid the ale has been too potest for Number Four. He is all out." Campanology had been a craze of his londship's younger days, and the ringers at Ashton Royal had reason to know it very well. I suppose it is excusable at this time," Miss Dal- rymple said, as she closed the window; "this air is too keen for you, my lord." No; let it be for a minute," he said. It is on the stroke of twelve; we are late to-night. Have you been out, child ?" Yes, papa, I have been very naughty according to Miss Dalrymple. I have been scampering round listening and looking. I couldn't stay in." We shall have to take her to town and tame her," his lordship said, stroking the fair head that nestled up against his breast. She is too wild by half for a fashionable lady." I shall never be a fashionable lady, papa," Gladys said. "I don't want to. No fashionable lady was ever so happy as I am." He stooped and kissed her, and they stood in silence listening to the bells, which were proclaiming the coming festival with all the might of their own tones and their ringers' arms. They were each handsome in their own special way, this father and daughter, who seemed so much alone, so isolated as it were from the rest of the world. Lord Lanreath looked every inch the peer that he was, in spite of the fact that his father had been a struggling lawyer, and his mother the daughter of as poor a country clergyman as ever struggled with appear- ances and well nigh went under in the fight. He was a worthy scion of the old race, though he was not of direct descent, and more than one of the family portraits might have been likenesses of him—tall, dark, and commanding-looking; though his hair was streaked here and there with silver now, he was the very opposite of his petite fair-haired daughter, who was so like that naughty Lady Znabel. The Lady Anabel had been a cousin. There had been marriages and inter-marriages, so that it was a good thing perhaps that the direct line had died out, and this more stalwart offshoot taken its place. There," said his lordship presently, as the sound of the church clock striking came ringing through the air, Christmas morning now, may it be a joyful one to you, my darling, and to you, too, Miss Dalrymple." To all of us, I hope, my lord," that lady said. Hark the bells have done now." She stepped to the window; the bells had done indeed, and a strange change had come over all with- out. The stars were shrouded in thick gloom, and a wailing wind, that seemed almost to have a human cry in it, followed the dying cadence. Before she could close the long French window, it had swept into the room and whirled all sorts of little articles from their places. That's by way of good night, I suppose," Lord Lanreath said. What a sudden change. I hope it does not mean a bad day to-morrow. I like a bright Christmas. Get to bed, child I don't want to see a pale face at dinner to-morrow." Have you asked anyone that we don't know of, papa, dear ? "Only Longhurst-you won't mind him he and Alan Mowbray are all. Your aunts of course." Oh, yes, I know," Gladys said, a little disdain- fully. She did not care for her aunts, between whom and her father there was a perpetual feud regarding her bringing up. Lord Lanreath did his duty and more to the two maiden sisters of his dead wife, and in return they pestered him with unasked advice, which he never took, and unexpected visits which he ] heartily disliked. The gentleman he called Longhurst was a bachelor earl, at present almost as poor as himself, but with I expectations from his mother. He had the reputa- tion of being very dissipated; but if it were true, he kept his follies pretty much in the background when- ever he was in the neighbourhood of Lord Lan- reath's seat, and always contrived to appear at his best when visiting there. Miss Dalrymple had made up her mind that there would be a match some day between Gladys and this gentleman; but the young lady did not care for him. She was barely civil to him when by chance they met. Alan Mowbray was a young cousin of the late Lady Lanreath, the son of her dearest friend; and for her sake her husband had helped him along through his orphaned boyhood at school, and since then in the army, where he was captain in a Lancer regiment. He was not staying in the house—he had never been asked to do that—but he was at the village inn, and walked over to breakfast, announcing that his leave was likely to be cut short. 11 I don't know what's up," he said to Miss Dal- rymple and Gladys while they waited for the master of the house to come down. I meant to have gone into Warwickshire for a week, and now I can only have four more days. It's disgusting." I And then," asked Gladys, absently as it seemed- she was giving her whole attention to making a neat pile of some crambs of bread on the cloth-" what will become of you after that ? I don't know," he replied in a low tone. It looks like mischief." Mischief ? "Yes." How ? It looks as if we should be sent abroad. There's trouble in Africa; and- "Don't," said Gladys so sharply that Miss Dal- rymple looked up from her letters and asked if she were ill. "Am I ever ill ? she retorted in the same curious tone, and the elder lady thought that something had put her out, and said no more. The young lady was rather serious for the greater part of the day, and there was still the odd expression in her face that had puzzled her governess the night before-in church, whither they all went to Lord Longhurst's intense disgust, she did not seem to hear a word of the sermon, but sat looking straight before her through the pretty memorial window that had been placed there in loving testimony to her mother's goodness, all through the service. At dinner she talked very little, and told her father, who questioned her, that Lord Longhurst was a nightmare, and oppressed her so that she had no words to utter, and the Christmas Day passed some- what wearily. Miss Dalrymple was decidedly not well-she looked feverish, and there was a cold brew- ing-and Gladys knew from experience what her colds were; secretly, she rejoiced in the advent of this one. It laid the good lady completely up the next day and for many days after, and there was one day when she did not see her pupil for many hours, and on inquiry for her was told she was out. She was not at the vicarage, for the vicar's wife had been up to see her, and she would have heard from her if Gladys had been there, and the servants evidently did not know. Lord Lanreath was away for two days, so she was not with him. She was troubled, but Gladys when she did reappear laughed and said she had been with Honor Trent. Honor had been her maid when she was a little girl, and Gladys was very fond j of her. Miss Dalrymple sighed, and fondly hoped that when her charge went to town, as she was to do shortly, she would be more like other girls and cease these wild escapades of hers. j She was able to be downstairs again, and Lord Lan- reath had come home when Alan Mowbray came to wish them good-bye. Only au revoir I hope," his lordship said kindly to the young man as they shook hands. "Good-bye, I am afraid," was the reply in a sad- dened tone. I think they mean sonding us out to fight the Zulus this time." CHAPTER II. SHADOWS. I ONLY offer it as an opinion, my lord; it is a fancy of mine-I hope it is nothing more." Miss Dalrymple was standing by Lord Lanreath's easy chair in the great library, talking earnestly, with a look of grave anxiety in her face. I think this is a fancy, my dear lady," his lord- ship replied. I think we can trust Gladys, and Honor, too, for that matter-she is a thoroughly re- spectable woman." "Yps," said Miss Dalrymple, with a little sigh but there is something that is not right. Gladys is not herself, and she seems to find more pleasure in the society of Honor Trent than anyone else. I have spokon to her, but I can get at nothing I think it would be well for your lordship to make some in- quiries." I will do so with pleasure," was the quiet reply but I do not think there is anything to be discovered. Gladys is finding Ashton Royal dull- she told me as much only yesterday, and she seems pleased by the prospect of the season in town she will not want Honor Trent then." Miss Dalrymple was answered, but not satisfied she could hardly tell her nployer what she was un- easy about, for she hardly knew herself. Gladys was ) changed somehow; she bad grown graver and quieter, and no longer expressed delight in her existence, the very fact of which had now and then been the occasion of a rhapsody when the young girl had been at her brightest, as on the Christmas Eve when she had come in out of the cold frosty air, every nerve quiver- ing with life and gladness. She seemed thoughtful now, and was certainly less wilful; but somehow Miss Dalrymple would rather have had the old gaiety and mischief. She had always been rather jealous of Honor Trent, who had been the favourite maid of her mother, and then her child's nurse, loving the little motherless baby with a passionate tenderness that had never known a change. She was a widow now she had married the head keeper, who had been killed in a poaching affray when Gladys was about ten years old, and Lord Lanreath had settled a small income on Honor, which she eked out by fine needlework and all sorts of delicate womanly occupations; so that she was able to keep a comfortable home about her. Recently she had come into a little money through the death of a relative so that she was quite inde- pendent of work had she chosen to be idle, but she was a bustling energetic woman, and would be indus- trious to the end of her life. Gladys was in the habit of visiting her whenever she chose, and Honor was always glad to have her but of late it appeared to Miss Dalrymple that she ran down to the cottage at the edge of the park a great deal more frequently than was necessary, and she had returned more than once with tears in her eyes, or the traces of them on her cheeks, and tears were a womanish fad of which Miss Dalrymple did not at all approve. Dignity was the good lady's idea of all that was proper in feminine behaviour, and she was sorely tried with such a pupil as Gladys Curzon, to whom the quality was a thing unknown. The holiday time had passed, and Lord Lanreath had somewhat suddenly made up his mind to go to town for the season, and launch his daughter in the fashionable world, under the auspices of his sister, Lady Molesworth, a kind-hearted but somewhat stiff fashionable dame, who, having disposed of her own daughter satisfactorily some seasons ago, was ready and willing, for a consideration, to pilot Gladys through the dif. ficulties of her first season. She had had consider- able correspondence with Miss Dalrymple on the sub- ject of her pupil, for she had not seen Gladys for some years, and from that lady's description of her charge she was rather dreading the advent of the country girl, whom she set down in her own mind as a sort of young savage. 61 She has been brought up barbarously," she confided to her intimate friends. Lanreath was never like anybody else in the world. Ashton Royal is a positively savage place-there is not a decent house for miles round." Gladys on her part was not one whit more anxious to meet her aunt than that worthy lady was to see her. I know I shall hate her," she confided to her faithful friend Honor. I do remember her, and that is all. I cried when I saw her, because she was not a bit like what I fancied my aunt should be, and she was so proud and stiff." "She was stiff, dearie," said the sympathising Honor; she was very high and grand with me, I remember, when your dear ma died, and she knew you were left to my care. Lady Molesworth said a good many unkind things about me then, and I didn't deserve them." No, I am sure you did not, you old darling! Gladys said, flinging her arms round her old nurse's neck. It was very wicked of her. I shan't like her a bit: she told Miss Dalrymple-I saw the letter -that she feared I was a wild hoyden. I don't think I am." Not lately, dear you have sobered down won- derfully these last few weeks. Sometimes I fancy you can't be well." I am quite well, Mamie, dear." The girl's face was turned away, and there was just a suspicion of tears in her voice as she spoke, and Honor had seen them in her eyes often of late. She had set it down to a sudden weariness of her secluded life. Girls take melancholy fits sometimes she told herself and though she dreaded losing her darling, she was convinced that the change would do her good. What makes you think I am not well ?" Gladys asked, after a pause. Papa asked me the same thing yesterday. There is nothing the matter with me, except the dulness of this dismal place. I shall be all right when we go to town, even if I do hate my aunt." You never used to find Ashton Royal dull, my lamb," Honor said, gently stroking the little head running over with curls that rested on her knee. What has come over you to dislike it now. Your papa wants to know what ails his little girl, as well as me." "How funny everyone is," Gladys said, without looking up. Miss Dalrymple has been worrying me ever so. She says I am triste, and not like myself, and papa has been hinting at doctors and all sorts of dreadful things-oh, dear I do wish people would let me alone." Honor caressed the pretty head again, sighing a little to herself as she did so. It was only that her pet was growing up, she said to herself-changing from a child into a woman. She had been a little startled by Lord Lanreath's questions—he bad come to her the day after this conversation with Miss Dal- rymple and asked her all sorts of questions that she hardly comprehended but she gathered from them that somehow or other the governess disapproved of her seeing so much of Gladys, and she somewhat indig- nantly denied that she had ever tried to entice the girl to her house, or kept her there at unsuitable hours, which that lady seemed to have represented was the case. She had seen rather less of her nurse- ling of late than she had been accustomed to do, she told his lordship, and he went away feeling sure that Honor had spoken the truth, and that if there was a mistake anywhere Miss Dalrymple had made it. He told that lady so, to her intense chagrin, but she was too politic to let it appear that she was annoyed. She only smiled sweetly, and told her employer that she hoped he would pardon her if she had been too officious, and there the matter dropped. She was going to town also, but her supervision over Gladys would cease when the young lady was delivered over to Lady Molesworth. Honor Trent parted from her foster child with many misgivings—Gladys was so young and really bo friendless. Excepting herself, and, of course, Lord Lanreath, there was no one who really loved the girl; there would be plenty to direct, but none to lead her in her future life, and Honor's motherly heart was full of fears for her. She guessed that his lordship meant her to marry Lord Longhurst if the match could be brought about, and she sighed as she thought of the young, bright life given into his keep- ing. The young man was leading a respectable life now; but the plentiful crop of wild oats that he had sown in his brief career would be sure to yield fruit by-and-bye, when least expected. Dearie, if ever you want a friend, you will re- member there is one here in Ashton Royal, won't you ? she said to Gladys, who clung to her with pas- sionate tears. Don't ever bo in any trouble that I can help you out of." "No, I won't," Gladys said, drying her tears, and forcing a smile through them. I don't know why everybody seems to think of trouble and me in con- junction. I am the very happiest girl in all the wide world; no one could be happier." So she had said on Christmas Eve, and her looks had not belied her then as they did now, and Honor looked puzzled as she watched her out of sight. She will come to me some day," she said, as she closed her door. Heaven bleïlS and keep her in the temptations of the world, my pretty darling t'' Lady Molesworth was agreeably surprised in her niece. She had led her friends to expect an utterly unpresentable young person, utterly unacquainted with the commonest usages of polite society, and when they called upon her to quiz or inspect the new arrival they found a graceful, ladylike, self-possessed girl—a little behind the extreme of fashion, perhaps, in dress, but quite able to hold her own in the matter of conversation and deportment with the quickest- witted of society belles. 'f I don't know what there is to be astonished at, Aunt Marian," she said, when she had listened to that lady for a minute or two after some visitors had left. We were not savages at Ashton Royal. Papa is a gentleman, and lives like one." Of course, my dear," Lady Molesworth replied, rather taken aback by the outspoken remark of her niece. I was a little surprised, after what I had heard of your bringing up and your life there, that That I was fit to enter a drawing-room, or sit down to table with decent people, I suppose. I thank you, Aunt Marian, in papa's name as Will as my own." My dear, I am only agreeably surprised; you do not understand quite what a relief it is to me to find a ready-trained little lady where I expected te have to undertake the very rudiments of tuition." I assure you I am perfectly trained-curtseys and all," Gladys said, mischievously. Look here, auntie don't ask me to call you Aunt Marian' any more-it is so stiff imagine yourself the Queen, and I will show lOU." She snatched a light sofa-wrap which lay upon a couch, and with a twist of her hand, as it seemed to her aunt, she ha-l improvised a train. "It isn't half long enough," she said, but it will have to do. Now, then, you are her Majesty, and I am coming to be presented." Lady Molesworth was terribly afraid lest anyone should come in, but immensely relieved neverthe- less to see Gladys approach her in the orthodox fashion, and sink down before her in a perfectly grace- ful and skilful curtsey, recovering herself, and bow- ing to imaginary royalties as she retreated back- wards without a hitch. Put down that ridiculous table-cloth, child, and come here," she said, when the performance was over. Who taught you that ?" "Miss Dalrymple; she said it was a necessary part of every girl's education." Of course it is Miss Dalrymple must have been a treasure, so few governesses are able to do it or think of it. Who was she ? A lady, I believe, when she was young; she was never talkative about herself, but she knew the curtsies from experience. I felt that when I was learning them." You are an odd child," her ladyship said, but it is nice to think that you know as much as you do a couple of visits to Shardeloe's, and you will be quite perfect." Sbardeloe was a teacher of dancing and deport- ment, whose fame had gone abroad everywhere till he ruled in his sphere like a despot, and the very highest in the land bowed down to his behests. He would attend no one at their homes, gentle or simple. All who wanted him had to go to him, and to be able to say that a debutante had learned her curtsies at Shardeloe's was to stamp her with a hall-mark there was no gainsaying. So Gladys was taken to Shardeloe's and dismissed after one visit as perfect, and Lady Molesworth set herself to the pleasing task of providing suitable dresses for her charge's campaign, and predicted for herself, through Gladys, a great deal of very welcome attention and many invitations she would otherwise have never received. Gladys seemed to have lost the little langour and listlessness that had taken held of her, and entered into all the preparations with a girl's avidity. Her presentation-dress was given into the hands of a clever modiste. Lord Lanreath desired that no ex- pense in reason should be spared to make his daughter's entree into the world of fashion a success. She was with her aunt at the modiste's place of business one blowy morning in the early part of March the Drawing Room was close at hand, and Lady Molesworth declared there would aot be time for all that was to be done. Gladys was patient to a wonder during all the trying-on and arranging that was necessary for the completion of her costume, and laughed to herself as she thought of the simple frocks of the Ashton Royal days and the little room where the village dessmaker exhibited her wares, and thought herself quite an important person with a couple of stands and two or three dresses at once in her possession. Her saloon," as she loved to call her stuffy little room, was a very different place from this spacious daintily set-out apartment, where papers and books lay about, and pretty girls handed the customers tea and delicate biscuits and slices of cake. Gladys took a cup of tea while her aunt was discussing some important item, and picked up a society paper to while away the few minutes of waiting. Lady Moles- worth's back was towards her, and she did not see the curious change that crept over the girl's face as she sat there. She seemed to be looking far away into space, to see something beyond the rich dresses and the moving figures that were about her. Her lips moved in unconscious muttering, and then all seemed to grow dark, and with a little gasp she sank into unconsciousness, and lay white and still on the cushions behind her just as Lady Molesworth turned round from her conference with the dressmaker to tell her niece that she was ready to go home. "Bless me, what can ail her?" she said as she helped the others to take off her hat and restore her to consciousness. How tiresome girls are Gladys, do wake up what do you mean by fainting here in this disgusting way ? I suppose she is tired and yet she did not seem so at all, and we are engaged to Mrs. Trevor Browne for this evening too. Whatever shall I do with her ?" I don't think it is illness," one of the young ladies said I think it must have been something in this paper. I saw her when she was reading it, and she seemed agitated." It couldn't be the paper," Lady Molesworth said. There's nothing in that to make anyone faint besides, she bad read it all before-it has been lying about my morning-room sii.ee yesterday." It was not the paper; at least Gladys said so when, after a few minutes, she sat up, and stared about her in rather an uncertain fashion, not quite sure what had happened to her or where she was. Is that fainting ?" she said. It is very dis- agreeable. I hope it will never happen to me again It never did before." I hope it won't," her aunt said, grimly. It is quite as disagreeable to other people, child. What is it all about ? This young lady thought it was some- thing you were reading in the paper." The newspaper Gladys laughed, as she bent down to pick up her glove from the floor. What should there be in a newspaper to make anyone faint ? I think I was reading something about some regiment or other going abroad, but I am not quite sure. It was not very exciting news. I think the room is hot, and I am rather tired; I am not a fashionable lady yet, you know." Her voice was very shaky, and there were tears in her eyes. She was a little hysterical, Lady Moles- worth thought, and the sooner they got home the better. Gladys was very silent, but appeared to be quite well, as they drove away. You must learn not to make scenes, child," her ladyship said when they had started it is awfully bad form." "I am very sorry," Gladys replied, meekly; "I didn't mean to do anything so dreadful." And it was really nothing you read in the paper nothing to do with the unlucky Stonysbires ?' Poor fellows we have seen the last of them, I am afraid! There is hot work where they are going." The Stonyabires ? Oh, you mean the regiment that was mentioned. No, I don't know anyone belong- ing to it." "So much the better for you, child," her aunt said I did not know whether you had not sent your heart away with some of them. A good many girls have, I am afraid. They are a popular set of men, I believe; but military men are seldom eligibles." Lady Molesworth was nothing if not practical, and always estimated a man according to his value as a marrying man or otherwise. She was not looking at Gladys now, and did not mark the quiver that would not be controlled of the pretty lips. I don't know a single person in the regiment, auntie," she said quite calmly to all appearance. I did not know the name of it till I saw it in the paper." It was quite true, and it was no doubt the heat and fatigue that had made her faint, and the effects of it remained with her all the evening. The select party at Mrs. Trevor Browne's house had been arranged really on her account, to exhibit her, as it were, to a few chosen fneztds. and it was provoking to have her looking weary and sad. But everyone votedber lovely; there was not a dissentient voice, and tba was some relief to Lady Molesworth's mind. (To be continued.)