Welsh Newspapers

Search 15 million Welsh newspaper articles

Hide Articles List

7 articles on this Page

THE BRIDE OF A DAY, BY MARY…

News
Cite
Share

lNOW FIRST PUBLISHED.] THE BRIDE OF A DAY, BY MARY ALBERT, Author of "The Luckiest Man in the World," Brooke Finchley'g Daughter," "Mystification," &c., &c. [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] CHAPTER I.—THE RETFORD FOLK. Thank goodner- that is over!" ejaculated the Rector of the parish oi Retford as he sank into ft commodious lounging chair in his study. Over!" re-echoed his wife. "It may be so for you, Marmaduke, but not for me..1 shall feel it every day of my life." The Rector was a good-natured man, beloved in his household, liked in his parish; and he roused himself from the depths of his chair, crossed over to his wife's aide. and took her hand sympa- thisingly. Co Now, Catherine, dear," he said, "you must not naJce such a, trouble of this wedding. Wodd you really have liked this Grantham Baine for a son-in law, and would our little Bessie hire been happy with him?" "It is easy to ask that, Marmaduke," sighed the. now wiping away a tear, "but such a place as Menryn Court- with such a rent-roll attached to it is not to be had every day. Oh, why did he not choose Bessie for a wife instead of that scheming girl, Milicent Drew Because the man liked Milicent best, my dear," argued the Rector. "It was all going right till Milicent pushed herself m," rejoined the disappointed lady, with a. bitter sigh. "You must confess that you thought ..0 yourself." Co I dd think so, Cathy, but now that I know Mr. Baine better I can bear the loss of Mervyn Court for our daughter with a. good deal of equanimity." But, I cannot." retorted his wife, rising hurriedly. "Oh, Marmaduke, think what it would have been to see our dear child one of the first ladies in the county, whereas now Milicent Drew has taken her place. Now that Milicent Drew has rarried off the prize her mother will become more insufferable than ever, and I shall have to be oivil to her, for the wife of the Rector of the fapish must be on speaking terms with all her usband's parishioners." The Rev. Marmaduke Lee was silent. There was some truth in what his wife advanced, and he realised anew how sorely she had been disappointed in her ambitious hopes for their daughter Bessie. But argument only made the past recur more vividly, so he stepped out upon the lawn, where Bessie herself (fortunately as heart-whole as ever) was laughing with her brother, Ronald, who was at home for the summer vacation. The Rector joined his ohildren with a smile upon his face. What are you two chattering about?" asked he, as he drew near. We began^ about this morning's wedding, of course, father," said Bessie, and ended in a wager I have made with Ronald." A wager!" re-echoed the Rector. c" Yes, father! There! you can see her now!" cried the girl, inconsequently, as she suddenly seized her brother's arm, while her last sentence was addressed to him, not to the clergyman. "Where? where?" rried the boy, with excite- ment, as he scanned the distant belt of woodland which ran up to Mervyn Court. "Near the beech clumps. Oh Ronnie, don't you see her?' cried Bessie, as excitedly. Yes! yes!" rejoined the boy. "See whom? What does it all mean?" asked their father, composedly, seating himself upon a garden chair. It means that there is something mysterious about that woman, father!" said his son. I met her a while ago by the fish ponds, and she asked me the way to Mrs. Drew's. You should have eeen how I started! for her voice was as like Mili- cent's "You should my Mrs. Baine now," murmured the Rector. "I suppose I should, father; but she hae not been Mrs. Baine many hours yet. and it takes a few weeks to get used to it. Well, the woman asked me the way to Mrs. Drew's, and I declare I couldn't answer her for a moment, her voice startled me so. Then I Yecovered myself, and showed her the path through the wood. But you see she did net go to the Drews', for there she is BOW. taking quite the opposite direction." Did you tell her there had been a wedding in the family this morning, Ronald?" Yee, father." Was she a lady?" cc think so: but she was dressed rather nueerly. Bessie and I think she is one of Mrs. Drew s poor relations, who is come down now to see what she can get out of them." "And if she is, what does it matter to us?" re- joineo Mr. Lee. Suppose she is a. poor relation of the Drews, there is no mystery in that. It is not a crime to have poor relatives. We have some —somewhere." Then I hope they will never turn up. father," laughed his eon. But you have not heard all yet. Of course, the extraordinary resemblance of the woman's voice to t.he voice of Milicent Drew-" Milicent Baine," corrected his father. "Well, to Mrs. Baine's voice," continued Ronald, attracted my attention; so that I set it down in my own mind that she must belong to the family —next—she asks for one road and takes another. Last, but not least, father, she drops this; a queer thing to happen, you must confess I" And the speaker held out to view a bright little key, bearing a label, on which was written in very neatly printed characters: Key to Old School Room, Beech Mount Cottage." Mr. Lee took it in his hand, and turned it over in silence. Why didn't you give it back to her, Ronnie?" he said, perplexed, for he had seen this key, many a time, in the hands of Milicent Drew herself. «" She had gone on too far," replied the boy, "and I did not actually see her drop ii, father, only it was not there—on the path, I mean—a few minutes before, and no one besides this person had passed along it." Well," said the clergyman, reflectively, I think I had better take charge of this key and place it in Mrs. Drew's own hands, so I'll walk up there after dinner." May I go with you? Bessie and 11" asked Ronald. I am afraid not, Ronnie. On the evening of the wedding day they will none of them want visitors; and the girls must be as tired as their mother. They had quite an overflowing reception—every- body was there, from the Duke to the Dustman 1" And a year ago they knew nobody I" said Bessie, chiming in. A year ago Milicent had not become engaged to a millionaire!" said the Rector, smiling. "But come. Your mother is beckoning us, and there 18 the dinner bell." Retford village is a picturesque little plaoe—the Rector's house is a commodious red-bncked, gabled dwelling; nor can the gardens at Mervyn Court boast peaches of better flavour than those grown at the Rectory. Beech Mount Cottage, inhabited by the fortunate Mrs. Drew, as her neighbours now styled her, was a. slate-roofed tenement which had been somewhat falling into decay; but since Mili- cent's engagement to the wealthy Mr. Gran- tham Baine, the place had been smartened up, and refurnished, and could hold up its head on a par with the Rectory itself. The neglected carriage drive had re-gravelled, the iron fence renewed, the entrance gatee were new, and Beech Mount Cottage was no longer ashamed of its own WuLbbi- ness in the midst of its smarter neighbours. The Cottage was situated on the bend of the road, which led .mt to Retford itself, to the slope on which Mervyn Court rose grandly into view. Had the Cottage not been on the high road to the Court,iperchance the marriage oelebrated that morn- ing, .and so much deplored by the Rector's wife, would iWer have taken place. For it was in return- ing from hunting that Mr. Baine had knocked at Mrs. Drew's door one winter evening, a.nd had begged shelter for a brief time. He had been thrown from his norse, he said; would Mrs. Drew permit him t" rest for a Jew minutes? Thus had begun the intimacy between the Court and the Cottage, resulting in the wedding which had excited the envy of all Retford. Before his acquaintanceship with the Drews, Mr. Baine had called so often at the Rectory, that really Bessie* mother might be pardoned for thinking that Bessie with her bright young face and lithe figure was the attraction. The mocm sailed up the summer sky, and the delicious scent of roees from the garden was wafted into the -Iming room, where the Rector's family sat at their "vming meal. Bessie's appetite was not im- paired by the event of the day—her mother noted this with ward thankfulness. "Ay!" tile village carpenter, Joe Crane, as he. too. sas at meat after the labours of the day; a gay weddin this morning, and no mistake. I'm thinking Madame Drew will^ hold up her head now. Why, Mr. Baine might ha wedded with ont e' mv daughters. That's 30." replied Mrs. Crane, putting some cheese and radishes on the table, and I don't doubt there's a mauy nicely enough upset by the ohoieehe's made." „ 7 "Ay!" rejoined the carpenter, reflectively, and now I s'e t'other Miss Drews 'ull wed someone grand. They're all handsome gals. It has stirred us up a bit. has the wedding. I'd thought everyone in the place had heard talk of it; but I met a woman up in the woods a while ago who didn't know nothing about it. She asked me the way to Mervyn Court, an' I told her; but when I looked back blest if she hadn't gone by the wrong path arter all! But I was too tired to run arter her. She must find it for herself thought I. Mervyn Court is big enough to be seen, in all con- 80ience I" "That's so," repeated Mrs. Crane. And she hadn't heard o' the wedding? Why, wherever had she come">froTn, I wonder?" From Gainston, she said," replied Crane. My word! she startled me, she did! for it might hat been Miss Milicent herself a-«peaking to me. A mteerlr dremed body die was. tool" Why, what had she got on 7" inquired frfr. Crane. with interest. Well! I don't justly know. She said she were going to Mervyn Court. The servants have & grand Ø11pper"-ere to-night in honour o' the master's wedding." • • « ■ i • Half-a-dozen miles away, Lord and Lady Lilling- JoB were also discussing the event of the morning- Mr. Baines's marriage with Miss Milicent Drew. The nobleman was the self-same My lord" al- luded to by Joe Crane, the carpenter. "Really!" remarked his lordship to his wife, as they watched the soft twilight deepen over their magnificent domain. I do think Mr. Baine might have chosen a more fitting bride for Mervyn Court than a nameless Miss Drew, whom no one in so- ciety ever heard of before. The worst of it is that we county folks must be civil to her. Persons in Mr. Baine's position ought to act as if they owed some duties towards an ancient family and an old name. I shall receive Mrs. Baine, of course, with all courtesy," remarked her Indvship, "but I am not bound to extend the hospitality of Lillincrton Manor to all her relatives. I never met her motller-as you say she is not in society; but I hear she is quite a nouveau riche. The cottaire they lived in was tumbling about their ears, till the second daughter attracted Mr. Baine's attention. Oh! Tudor! (lowering her voice so that only her husband's ear might catch fhe words) Merwn Court ought to have been for one of our girlsI" That is all over and done with!" said his lord. ship. glumly. "J'TOWT)er becomes a widower!" re- marked her ladyship, with a short, unmirthful laiicrn. That is hardly likely. Miss Milicent Drew is young and as healthful as she is handsome. I Raw her once at the Retford Rectory, and wae quite struck with her. And her voice has a peculiar melody in it. By-the-bye. I met a woman Retford Woods as I was riding home by the bridle path who quite startled me. i asked her tne shortest way to reach the highroad (for I have tjeenV y 01106 before in those oopses), and I never heard such a curious resemblance to the voice of that of the bride of to-day. Really! And is she a. Retford person?" re. joined Lady Lillington, carelessly. No, a stranger I think, for she did not know own way." "Voices and faces sometimes bear unaccount- able likeness to other persons' tones and features," opserved her ladyship. My maid tells me that Beech Mount Cottage has been transformed into a really nice-looking residence, so I suppose Mr. Baine has married all the family." Doubtless! Thev did all their own laundry work before Miss Drew made such a hit in the matrimonial market. At least that is the rumour." Lady Lillington laughed scornfully, but did not pursue the theme, M he- daughter, the Lady Alicia Minever, entered the room. • • • • » Meantime th9 Rector of Retford had finished his dinner, and was now sipping his coffee on the lawn in the fading light. For, as has been implied, it was summertide, and genial airs were whispering among the trees. Mrs. Lee had recovered her equanimity, or if she had not, she bore herself bravely under her mis- fortune, making to herself a rule that she would present an unruffled demeanour before her children, her servants, and the parish folk. Don't forget that you have to go to Mrs. Drew's, father, with that key," cried Ronald as soon as the servant who had handed the coffee was out ot hearing. Gladly would the boy have discussed the incident during the whole of dinner, but Mrs. Lee never permitted anything unaeual to be mooted before the footman and page "Bessie and I think that the woman who dropped it may be the accomplice of burglars," continued Ronald, confidentially. "Ha, I should not wonder!" responded the clergyman, in a, which revealed that (hitherto puzzled) he had now caught the end of a. clue. He rose as he spoke, and took his way towards the house of the bride's mother. As hs turned in at the pretentious-looking new gates he suppressed a smile when recalling the tW- pect of the place a year and half ago. Now what a change there waa in everything within and around the place. Soft, creamy, lace curtains, gracefully looped back with pale broad amber silk revealed a wreath of flowers, while glimpses of pictures, vases, and handsome furniture were discernible—things un- known in the once uncared for dwelling before Mili. cent Drew's handsome dark eyes and lovely rose- tinted face had captivated the silent morose in- dividual who owned Mervyn Court. Miss Milicent has made her family's fortunes aa well as her own, I imagine," mused the clergyman, as he walked up to the front entrance. A sound of mirth floated to his ears as he drew nearer—tlia chorus of a song mingled with the ac- companiment of the piano. "I will not intrude—I can leave the key with a servant," decided Mr. Lee, as he rang at the door. At this moment two of the more youthful mem- bers of the fa.mily-a boy and a girl, about twelve or thirteen years of age, ran into the hall, while two ladies, one rather elderly, the other a. girl of eighteen or twenty, followed. Nelly says we ought to go out—the night is so beautiful," remarked Mrs. Drew. Then she stopped short, perceiving the rector at the hall door. "Have you been waiting 1 I am so sorry, Mr. Lee," said she, going forward to greet him. "-The servants are merry over their supper, for I allowed them to invite some friends, and I suppose they did not hear the bell. But pray come in." "-You are very kind—but I will not detain you a this hour," rejoined he. "I merely walked up this beautiful evening to restore this key whica must surely belong to you. My boy, Ronald, thinks it was dropped by a woman on the road to the copse this afternoon." And so saying, Mr. Lee tendered the article in question. Why, it is Milicent s own particular key, which she would never let anyone have but herself," ex- claimed the young lady who stood by. Oh, .yes! it is certainly Milicent s key," chimed in Mrs. Drev. "She must have lost it, and some stranger must have picked it up. I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Lee, for so kindly bringing it to 1Jq at once." m Oh! it only gave me a pleasant walk." re- joined the clergyman, courteously; and I will now say good evening, for I am sure all you ladies must be tired after this morning's demands on you." With this he lifted his hat. and would have re- tired but that Mrs. Drew said insistently, "Pray do not leave us without resting a moment. We wer' all going to sit on tha lawn and have tea. Will you not join "J 1" And then the girl who had just now remarked on the key as belonging to her sister, made another comment, while her face betrayed that she was puzzled about the incident which had led to the clerygnan's visit. Milicent made me fasten the key round her neck this morning before she bade us geod-byef How could l have got into the handa of another person 7" exclaimed she. There is no need to look so bewildered about it. Dora," rejoined her mother, with a laugh. "Of course you must havGi fastened the ribbon insecurely, and so the key must have slipped from the ribbon when Milly got out of the carriage. In .this way it has been picked up—the explanation is very simple." Mother! I tied the ribbon round Milly's neck eo safely that she said she should never get it un- tied" replied Dora Drew. Then she must have taken off both ribbon and key together at the last moment my dear" said Mrs. Drew impatiently. "Pray do not let us keep Mr. Lee rtanding any longer. And she walked out on the lawn where under the lovely light which lingered in the summer sky and of the rising moon, a table was tatetefully set out with a tea equipage. A maid in a pretty new dress was advancing to- wards Dora. with a lettr on a salver. For you. Miss. A woman has just left it at the door," said the servant. The young lady took it with a pre-oocupied air. She was still thinking of the key which the bride had lost. "Is she waiting?" asked Dora dreamingly. No, Miss; she just left the note for you and walked away." She only said I was to give it to Miss Dora and to no one else," replied the maid. "It did so startle me, Miss, for her voice was as like Miss Milioent's—I beg pardon—Mrs. Baine's I oughto to Bay now, as if it 'twere Miss Milicent herself." "Pardon me," interposed the clergyman, "how was this woman dressed?" Well, I'm sure J couldn't ten you, sir," said the maid, pleased that her words had attracted atten- tion but somehow she made one wonder who she was. And she was gone in a. moment, sir." She is the woman who dropped the key. My eon, Ronald, noticed what an odd look she had," re- marked Mr. Lee, turning to Mrs. Drew. We shall end by making this simple little affair into a mystery," laughed the lady. Ie Read your communication, Dora, and dissipate the mystery, if possible. Meantime, I will pour out tea. Mr. Lee, may I give you any sugar ?" No sugar, thank you," replied the Rector, while Dora. opened the envelope, and perused the enclosure. At instant afterwards Mr. Lee was startled at the change in the young girl's face, which was 1anohed a.nd terrified. Stumbling to her feet, and without speaking » rrord, she walked away into the house, convulsively clutchine the note in her hand. "Why, where is Dora gone?" exclaimed Mrs. Drew. Oh, I suppose to see if the dogs have had their supp-r, nothing would make her neglect that, not even it she were to be married herself. Well, Mr. Lee, j. don't Want another wedding in my family just yet—we shall all be glad of our usual monotony till the bride and bridegroom take up their residence a' the Court. can well believe it," rejoined the Rector, urteouly. A wedding upsets a house in an extraordinary manner, and the return to one's ordin- ary occupations after the happy pair' are wedded must be welcome as wholesome bread after a. diet of cakes and comfits." "Ha, ha: Thai is a good simile," laughed Mrs. Drew. "I shall be tempted to repeat my remark else- where since you receive it so graciously," rejoined the Rector. But I had no idea of inflicting a visit upon you af this hour, especially after the fatigues of to-day, so good nigpht and pleasant dreams. Good hight, good night. Make my adieux, please, to Miss Dora," and then with a smiling farewell to the young folks, after shaking hands with their mother and eldest sister, Eleanor, he was soon lost to view in the coming twilight, as he rounded a belt of chruhs, bordering the drive. "I wonder what was the matter to make that girl, Dora. Drew, look as she did." thought he. "It is to be hoped she has no secret love affair. It is no affair of mine, however." He had not gone two paces further when he came face to face with the object of his thoughts, and. if he had recently been struck by the girl's seeming terror, he was now absolutely startled by it. For she looked wild—distraught—hunted—and as if flying on some errand in desperation. Miss Dora!" said the clergyman, making his proximity sensible to her-" is anything the matter ?" Never had he seen any human being betray such fear. Clutching at the framework of a summer house which peeped out of the surrounding shruljs. the girl steadied herself by a great effort. And then she smiled a smile which literally distorted her youthful face. The matter I" stammered she. "why what should be the matter? Forgive me for running awav, Mr. Lee, I-am over-tired to- night—over-tired!" And then she held out her hand, which was cold as death. Her desire to get rid of him was so obvious that he immediately bade her Good night," raised his hat, and walked away. She seemed guarding the entrance to that summer house. Someone was in there. And whom could 1)1,\ have wished to conceal save some un- recognised lover 7 Unfortunate girl! Yet how could I interfere?" With an uncomfortable feeling he could not sup- press, the Rector, thus reasoning, turned home- wards. CHAPTER II.—A STRANGE INCIDENT. Father! cried Ronald, running to meet Mr. e, m a somewhat excited manner, u old Mrs. Butt is here, and mother wants you to come and speak to her- What does Mrs. Butt want with me at this time of night? rejoined the Rector, impatiently, as ne ^deposited his stick on the hall table. "Mrs Butt doesn't want you, father; 'tis mother who wishes you to come and hear what she is say- lng," replied the boy. "Well! where is Mrs. Butt?" asked the clergy. man, resignedly. T> housekeeper's room, father," replied Ronald, promptly leading the way thither. Mr. Lee followed his son, expecting to find his parishioner either very ill or in great trouble. What he saw on entering the room was a group of maids gathered round Widow Butt, who was sitting beside the table, while Bessie and his wife were bending over her. "Mrs. Butt has been frightened," replied Mrs. Lee, looking, up. She imagines "No, ma'am, begging your pardon, I don't imagine! I says just the real truth and no more «°c- n,? • -sl interrupted the woman, excitedly. Sir! —rising hastily from her chair and con- fronting the Rector-" what I tell you is plain *3ct> and no fancy. I'm not an excitable person, and all the village knows me for a good, sound teetotaler. I were sitting in my own little porch, taking a rest after my day's work, and listening a bit for the nightingales to tune up, when I hears a foot- step, and a strange woman comes round the path. An' she asks for a drink o' water, sir, an, says she, I think you've got a room to let—there's a card in your window, missus. I'm a stranger here,' she eays. And then I screams out: No stranger,' says I, for you're Miss Milicent, as was married this very morning I Oh, whatever has happened, my dear miss?' And then she gives a ory, and calls out something I couldn't catch, and was gone afore I could note where, and when I ran out to the gate, the woman was nowhere to be seen; so I calls out to little Bill Cane, as was run- ning by: "'Which way did she go, my boy?' f Theru 'ain't been nobody along here,' says BIll. Then she's vanished,' says I, for there wasn't a. hole or corner for her to get into. Well, the boy and I searched ever bush and shed, but, bless you, sir, I knew aforehand that we shouldn't find no one; and you mark my words, sir, there 11 be news in a day or so that Miss M liceiat-lest- ways Mrs. Baine. should say—died on her wed- ding day. Come, come, Mrs. Butt," said Mr. Lee, with a smile, "you mustn't jump to conclusions so quickly. Miss Bessie here and her brother met a strange-looking woman this evening whose voice was very like that of Miss Milicent Drew—I beg her pardon—Mrs. Baine. Indeed, if you will wait a day or two, before settling it in your own mind that you have had a. visit from a ghost, I think there will be news of the bride and bridegroom, as Mr. Faire, the steward, expects to hear from Mr. Baine about some alterations which are to be made at the Court. Besides, Mrs. Baine will be sure to write te her mothor and outers. Depend rpon it we shall soon have good news of her, and rhat she and Mr. Baine are enjoying themselves at Lucerne." When that good new .arrives, air. I'll believe it, and not before," said the widow, solemnly. And not to trouble you and your good lady no longer 111 make bold to ask leave to sit in the kitchen till my boy Tom has done his work here, so f, he can walk home with me, foi to bide alone in my cottage to-night, thinking as I may see that woman come round by the porch agen, is roorr than I could gc through." Ton-, shall go with you now, Mrs. Butt. Cheer up and drink a glass of wine, that will hearten you up a bit." You're very kind, sir. I return you many thanks," answered she, and the scene ended by Widow Butt being installed in the kitchen with a plentiful. meal of cold meat and pickles set before he., and an interested audience of the female servants at the Rectory gathered round her. "Oh, what about the key, father? What did Mrs. Drew say?" inquired Ronald, when his father had, at L-st, settled himself in his easy chair, with a sigh of oor.tentment.. "She said it was hers, that it must have been dropped by the bride that morning, and that somebody must have picked it up, replied the clergyman, closing his eyes as if tired, and not inviting further cauiment from his inquisitive young 80" Just tell us, father, what they were all doing -,he Drews, I mean—and then you shall go to Bleep in pence," saiCi Ronald, entreatingly.. "They were playing and singing in chorus, when I arrived, after which they all went to sit in^the garden, where they courteously detained me to otter me somo tea," replied the Rector, briefly. And now, Ronnie, you must really let me rest a blt- The boy was silent, while Bessie and his mother, understanding these moods of the head of the house- hold, did not venture to disturb him with any prattle. gome goft gynfphony, Bessie," said Mrs. Lee, in an undertone; and Bessie seating herself at the piano, complied with her mother's request, while Ronald took up a bock. For a little while nothing was audible save the melodious and soothing movement which Bessies fingers called forth, and when the melody ceased, the soft stir of the evening breeze among the trees in the Rector's garden, and the trill of a night bird alone broke the delicious silence. Then, all at once, the quiet was rudely disturbed by Ronald Lee springing up, overturning a chair, and dashing out through the half-open window, as he exclaimed: "There she is again!—the woman who had .he Jtey!" Qui^k as were the boy's movements, those of nis father were as rapid, to the no small astonishment of Mrs. Lee and her young daughter. Indeed, the latter, startled at first, rose with vivacity, an i followed her father and brother into the soft dusk. TTalf frightened, the girl sped to the verge of the lawn, calling: "Ronald, Ronald; where are you?' Then she stood still, listening, terrified even at the sound of ber own voice. All at once, a noise smote her ear. Next she distinguished a running footstep, and her brother Ronald blundered over a gate, which opened into the paddock (pretentiously called the Rectory Park). Oh. h you frightened me I" exclaimed the girl, starting back. Pooh, Bess! Your fright is nothing to mine, nothing," panted he, letting himself drop on the dewy greensward. Oh, Bessie, there's something up, indeed. The Pater made me come back-he didn't vant me to see that woman-that was plain. But why? Who is she? What does she want? And why is her voice eo like Milicent Drew's voice?" (To be Continued.)

Advertising

THE GREAT TALUNGA GOLD MINE.

Advertising

Congratulating the New Magitirate,

---------ST. ASAPH PARISH…

Advertising