"Let us go, Frank," implored Stella. "You will let me go now?" And she turned to Jasper.
Frank was almost driven to madness by her tone.
"What has he said and done to change you like this?" he said. "You speak to him as if you were his slave!"
She looked at him sadly.
Jasper shook his head.
"Wait," he said – "it will be better that you wait. Trust me. I will spare you as much as possible; but it will be better that he should learn all that he has to learn from your lips, here and now."
She bowed her head, and still holding Frank's arm sank into a chair.
The boy was about to burst out again, but she stopped him.
"Hush!" she said, "do not speak, every word cuts me to the heart. Not a word, dear – not another word. Let us wait."
They had not long to wait.
There was a sound of footsteps, hurried and noisy, on the stairs – an impatient, resolute voice uttering a question – then the door was thrown open, and Lord Leycester burst in!
CHAPTER XXX
Leycester looked round for a moment eagerly, then, utterly disregarding Jasper, he hurried across to Stella, who at his entrance had made an involuntary movement towards him, but had then recoiled, and stood with white face and tightly-clasped hands.
"Stella!" he exclaimed, "why are you here? Why did you not come to Waterloo? Why did you send for me?"
She put her hand in his, and looked him in the face – a look so full of anguish and sorrow that he stared at her in amazement.
"It was I who sent for you, my lord," said Jasper, coldly.
Leycester just glanced at him, then returned to the study of Stella's face.
"Why are you here, Stella?"
She did not speak, but drew her hand away and glanced at Jasper.
That glance would have melted a heart of stone, but his was one of fire and consumed all pity.
"Will you not speak? Great Heaven, what is the matter with you?" demanded Leycester.
Jasper made a step nearer.
Leycester turned upon him, not fiercely, but with contempt and amazement, then turned again to Stella.
"Has anything happened at home – to your uncle?"
"Mr. Etheridge is well," said Jasper.
Then Leycester turned and looked at him.
"Why does this man answer for you?" he said. "I did not put any question to you, sir."
"I am aware of that, my lord," said Jasper, his small eyes glittering with hate and malice, and smoldering fury. The sight of the handsome face, the knowledge that Stella loved this man and hated him, Jasper, maddened and tortured him, even in his hour of triumph. "I am aware of that, Lord Leycester; but as your questions evidently distress and embarrass Miss Etheridge, I take upon myself to answer for her."
Leycester smiled as if at some strange conceit.
"You do indeed take upon yourself," he retorted, with great scorn. "Perhaps you will kindly remain silent."
Jasper's face whitened and winced.
"You are in my apartment, Lord Leycester."
"I regret to admit it. I more deeply regret that this lady should be here. I await her explanation."
"And what if I say she will not gratify your curiosity?" said Jasper, with a malignant smile.
"What will happen, do you mean?" asked Leycester, curtly. "Well, I shall probably throw you out of the window."
Stella uttered a low cry and laid her hand upon his arm; she knew him so well, and had no difficulty in reading the sudden lightning in the dark eyes, and the resolute tightening of the lips. She knew that it was no idle threat, and that a word more from Jasper of the same kind would rouse the fierce, impetuous anger for which Leycester was notorious.
In a moment his anger disappeared.
"I beg your pardon," he murmured, with a loving glance, "I was forgetting myself. I will remember that you are here."
"Now, sir," and he turned to Jasper, "you appear anxious to offer some explanation. Be as brief and as quick as you can, please," he added curtly.
Jasper winced at the tone of command.
"I wished to spare Miss Etheridge," he said. "I have only one desire, and that is to insure her comfort and happiness."
"You are very good," said Leycester, with contemptuous impatience. "But if that is all you have to say we will rid you of our presence, which cannot be welcome. I would rather hear an account of these extraordinary proceedings from this lady's lips, at first, at any rate; afterwards I may trouble you," and his eyes darkened ominously.
Then he went up to Stella, and his voice dropped to a low whisper.
"Come, Stella. You shall tell me what this all means," and he offered her his arm.
But Stella shrank back, with a piteous look in her eyes.
"I cannot go with you," she murmured, as if each word cost her an effort. "Do not ask me!"
"Cannot!" he said, still in the same low voice. "Stella! Why not?"
"I – I cannot tell you! Do not ask me!" was her prayer. "Go now – go and leave me!"
Lord Leycester looked from her to Frank, who shook his head and glared at Jasper.
"I don't understand it, Lord Leycester; it is no use looking to me. I have done as you asked me – at least as far as I was able until I was prevented. We got out at Vauxhall as you wished us to do – "
"I!" said Leycester, not loudly, but with an intense emphasis. "I! I did not ask you to do anything of the kind! I have been waiting for you at Waterloo, and thinking that I had missed you and that you had gone on to – to the place I asked you to go to, I hurried there. A man – Mr. Adelstone's servant, I presume – was waiting, and told me Stella was here waiting for me. I came here – that is all!"
Frank glared at Jasper and raised an accusing finger, which he pointed threateningly.
"Ask him for an explanation!" he said.
Leicester looked at the white, defiant face.
"What jugglery is this, sir?" he demanded. "Am I to surmise that – that this lady was entrapped and brought here against her will?"
Jasper inclined his head.
"You are at liberty to surmise what you will," he said. "If you ask me if it was through my instrumentality that this lady was led to break the assignation you had arranged for her, I answer that it was!"
"Soh!"
It was all Leycester said, but it spoke volumes.
"That I used some strategy to effect my purpose, I don't for a moment deny. I used strategy, because it was necessary to defeat your scheme."
He paused. Leycester stood upright watching him.
"Go on," he said, in a hard, metallic voice.
"I brought her here that I, her uncle's and guardian's friend, might point out to her the danger which lay in the path on which you would entice her. I have made it clear to her that it is impossible she should do as you wish."
He paused again, and Leycester removed his eyes from the pale face and looked at Stella.
"Is what this man says true?" he asked, in a low voice. "Has he persuaded you to break faith with me?"
Stella looked at him, and her hands closed over each other.
"Don't ask her," broke in Frank. "She is not in a fit state to answer. This fellow, this Jasper Adelstone, has bewitched her! I think he has frightened her out of her senses by some threat – "
"Frank! Hush! Oh, hush!" broke from Stella.
Lord Leycester started and eyed her scrutinizingly, but he saw only anguish and pity and sorrow – not guilt – in her face.
"It is true," declared Frank. "This is what she has said, and this only since I came back into the room, and I can't get any more out of her. I think, Lord Leycester, you had better throw him out of the window."
Leycester looked from one to the other. There was evidently more in the case than could be met by following Frank's advice.
He put his hand to his head for a moment.
"I don't understand," he said, almost to himself.
"It is not difficult to understand," said Jasper, with an ill-concealed sneer. "The lady absolutely refuses to keep the appointment you made – you forced upon her. She declines to accompany you. She – "
"Silence," said Leycester, in a low voice that was more terrible than shouting. Then he turned to Stella.
"Is it so?" he asked.
She raised her eyes, and her lips moved.
"Yes," she said.
He looked as if he could not believe the evidence of his senses. The perspiration broke out on his forehead, and his lips trembled, but he made an effort to control himself, and succeeded.
"Is what this man says true, Stella?"
"I – I cannot go with you," she trembled, with downcast eyes.
Leycester looked round the room as if he suspected he must be dreaming.
"What does it mean?" he murmured. "Stella;" and now he addressed her as if he were oblivious of the presence of others. "Stella, I implore, I command you to tell me. Consider what my position is. I – who have been expecting you as – as you know well – find you here, and here you, with your own lips, tell me that all is altered between us; so suddenly, so unreasonably."
"It must be so," she breathed. "If you would only go and leave me!"
He put his hand on the back of a chair to steady himself, and the chair shook.
Jasper stood gloating over his emotion.
"Great Heaven!" he exclaimed, "can I believe my ears? Is this you, Stella – speaking to me in these words and in this fashion? Why! – why! – why!"
And the questions burst forth from him passionately.
She clasped her hands, and looked up at him.
"Do not ask me – I cannot tell. Spare me!"
Leycester turned to Frank.
"Will you – will you leave us, my dear Frank?" he said, hoarsely.
Frank went out slowly, then Leycester turned to Jasper.
"Hear me," he said. "You have given me to understand that the key of this enigma is in your possession; you will be good enough to furnish me with it. There must be no more mystery. Understand once for all, and at once, that I will have no trifling."
"Leycester!"
He put up his hand to her, gently, reassuringly,
"Do not fear; this gentleman has no need to tremble. This matter lies between us three – at present, rather, it lies between you two. I want to be placed on an equality, that is all." And he smiled a fiercely-bitter smile. "Now, sir!"
Jasper bit his lips.
"I have few words to add to what I have already said. I will say them, and I leave it to Miss Etheridge to corroborate them. You wish to know the reason why she did not meet you as you expected, and why she is here instead, and under my protection?"
Leycester moved his hand impatiently.
"The question is easily answered. It is because she is my affianced wife!" said Jasper quietly.
Leycester looked at him steadily, but did not show by a sign that he had been smitten as his adversary had hoped to smite him. Instead, he seemed to recover coolness.
"I have been told," he said, quietly and incisively, "that you are a clever man, Mr. Adelstone. I did not doubt it until this moment. I feel that you must be a fool to hope that I should accept that statement."
Jasper's face grew red under the bitter scorn; he raised his hand and pointed tremblingly to Stella.
"Ask her," he said, hoarsely.
Leycester turned to her with a start.
"For form's sake," he said, almost apologetically, "I will ask you, Stella. Is this true?"
She raised her eyes.
"It is true," she breathed.
Leycester turned white for the first time, and seemed unable to withdraw his eyes from hers for a moment, then he walked up to her and took her hands.
"Look at me!" he said, in a low, constrained voice. "Do you know that I am here? – I – am – here! – that I came here to protect you? That whatever this man has said to force this mad avowal from your lips I will make him answer for! Stella! Stella! If you do not wish to drive me mad, look at me and tell me that this is a lie!"
She looked at him sadly, sorrowfully.
"It is true – true," she said.
"Of your own free will? – you hesitate! Ah!"
She flung her hands before her eyes for a moment to gain strength to deal him the blow, then with white constrained face she said —
"Of my own free will!"
He dropped her hands, but stood looking at her.
Jasper's voice aroused him from the stupor which fell upon him.
"Come, my lord," he said, in a dry, cold voice, "you have received your answer. Let me suggest that you have inflicted more than enough pain upon this lady, and let me remind you that as I am her affianced husband I have the right to request you to leave her in peace."
Leycester turned to him slowly, but without speaking to him went up to Stella.
"Stella," he said, and his voice was harsh and hoarse. "For the last time I ask you – for the last time! – is this true? Have you betrayed me for this man? Have you promised to be – his wife?"
The answer came in a low clear voice:
"It is true. I shall be his wife."
He staggered slightly, but recovered himself, and stood upright, his hands clasped, the veins on his forehead swelling.
"It is enough," he said. "You tell me that it is of your own free will. I do not believe that. I know that this man has some hold upon you. What it is I cannot guess. I feel that you will not tell me, and that he would only lie if I asked him. But it is enough for me. Stella – I call you so for the last time – you have deceived me; you have kept this thing hidden from me. May Heaven forgive you, I cannot!"
Then he took his hat and turned to leave the room.
As he did so she swayed toward him, and almost fell at his feet, but Jasper glided toward her and held her, and, as Leycester turned, he saw her leaning on Jasper, her arm linked in his.
Without a word Leycester opened the door and went out.
Frank sprang toward him, but Leycester put him back with a firm grasp.
"Oh, Lord Leycester!" he cried.
Leycester paused for a moment, his hand on the boy's arm.
"Go to her," he said. "She has lied to me. There is something between her and that man. I have seen her for the last time," and before the boy could find a word of expostulation or entreaty, Leycester pushed him aside and went out.
CHAPTER XXXI
Leycester went down the stairs with the uncertain gait of a drunken man, and having reached the open air stood for a moment staring round him as if he were bereft of his senses; as indeed he almost was.
The shock had come so suddenly that it had deprived him of the power of reasoning, of following the thing out to its logical conclusion. As he walked on, threading his way along the crowded thoroughfare, and exciting no little attention and remark by his wild, distraught appearance, he realized that he had lost Stella.
He realized that he had lost the beautiful girl who had stolen into his heart and absorbed his love. And the manner of his losing her made the loss so bitter! That a man, that such a creature as this Jasper Adelstone, should come between them was terrible. If it had been any other, who was in some fashion his own equal – Charlie Guildford, for instance, a gentleman and a nobleman – it would have been bad enough, but he could have understood it. He would have felt that he had been fairly beaten; but Jasper Adelstone!
Then it was so evident that love was not altogether the reason of her treachery and desertion; there was something else; some secret which gave that man a hold over her. He stopped short in the most crowded part of the Strand, and put his hand to his brow and groaned.
To think that his Stella, his beautiful child-love, whom he had deemed an angel for innocence, should share a secret with such a man. And what was it? Was there shame connected with it? He shuddered as the suspicion crossed his mind and smote upon his heart. What had she done to place her so utterly in Jasper Adelstone's hands? What was it? The question harassed and worried him to the exclusion of all other sides of the case.
Was it something that had occurred before he, Leycester, had met her? She had known this Jasper Adelstone before she knew Leycester; but he remembered her speaking of him as a conceited, self-opinioned young man; he remembered the light scorn with which she had described him.
No, it could not have happened thus early. When then? and where was it? He could find no solution to the question; but the terrible result remained, that she had delivered herself, body and soul, into the hands of Jasper Adelstone, and was lost to him, Leycester!
Striking along, careless of where he was going, he found himself at last in Pall Mall. He entered one of his clubs, and went to the smoking-room. There he lit a cigar, and took out the marriage license and looked at it long and absently. If all had gone right, Stella would have been his, if not by this time, a very little later, and they would have gone to Italy, they two, together and alone – with happiness.
But now it was all changed – the cup had been dashed from his lips at the last moment, and by – Jasper Adelstone!
He sat, with the unsmoked cigar in his fingers, his head drooped upon his breast, the nightmare of the secret mystery pressing on his shoulders. It was not only the loss of Stella, it was the feeling that she had deceived him that was so bitter to bear; it was the existence of the secret understanding between the two that so utterly overwhelmed him. He could have married Stella though she had been a beggar in the streets, but he could have no part or lot in the woman who shared a secret with such a one as Jasper Adelstone.
The smoking-room footman hovered about, glancing covertly and curiously at the motionless figure in the deep arm-chair; acquaintances sauntered in and gave him good-bye; but Leycester sat brooding over his sorrow and disappointment, and made no response.
A more miserable young man it would have been impossible to find in all London than this viscount and heir to an earldom, with all his immense wealth and proud hereditary titles.
The afternoon came, hot and sultry, and to him suffocating. The footman, beginning to be seriously alarmed by the quiescence of the silent figure, was just considering whether it was not his duty to bring him some refreshment, or rouse him by offering him the paper, when Leycester rose, much to the man's relief, and walked out.
Within the last few minutes he had decided upon some course of action. He could not stay in London, he could not remain in England; he would go abroad – go right out of the way, and try and forget. He smiled to himself at the word, as if he should ever forget the beautiful face that had lain upon his breast, the exquisite eyes that had poured the lovelight into his, the sweet girl-voice that had murmured its maiden confession in his ear!
He called a cab, and told the man to drive to Waterloo; caught a train, threw himself into a corner of the carriage, and gave himself up to the bitterness of despair.
Dinner was just over when his tall figure passed along the terrace, and the ladies were standing under the drawing-room veranda enjoying the sunset. A little apart from the rest stood Lenore. She was leaning against one of the iron columns, her dress of white cashmere and satin trimmed with pearls standing out daintily and fairy-like against the mass of ferns and flowers behind her.
She was leaning in the most graceful air of abandon, her sunshade lying at her feet, her hands folded with an indolent air of rest on her lap; there was a serene smile upon her lips, a delicate languor in her violet eyes, an altogether at-peace-with-all-the-world expression which was in direct contrast with the faint expression of anxiety which rested on the handsome face of the countess.
Every now and then, as the proud and haughty woman, but anxious mother, chatted and laughed with the women around her, her gaze wandered to the open country with an absent, almost fearful expression, and once, as the sound of a carriage was heard on the drive, she was actually guilty of a start.
But the carriage was only that of one of the guests, and the countess sighed and turned to her duties again. Lenore, with head thrown back, watched her with a lazy smile. She was suffering likewise, but she had something tangible to fear, something definite to hope; the mother knew nothing, but feared all things.
Presently Lady Wyndward happened to come within the scope of Lenore's voice.
"You look tired to-night, dear," she said.
The countess smiled, wearily.
"I will admit a little headache," she said; then she looked at the lovely indolent face. "You look well enough, Lenore!"
Lady Lenore smiled, curiously.
"Do you think so!" she answered. "Suppose I also confessed a headache!"
"I should outdo you even then," said the countess, with a sigh, "for I have a heartache!"
Lenore put out her hand, white and glittering with pearls and diamonds, and laid it on the elder woman's arm with a little caressing gesture peculiar to her.
"Tell me dear," she whispered.
The countess shook her head.
"I cannot," she said, with a sigh. "I scarcely know myself. I am quite in the dark, but I know that something has happened or is happening. You know that Leycester went suddenly yesterday?"
Lady Lenore moved her head in assent.
The countess sighed.
"I am always fearful of him."
Lenore laughed, softly.
"So am I. But I am not fearful on this occasion. Wait until he comes back."
The countess shook her head.
"When will that be? I am afraid not for some time!"
"I think he will come back to-night," said Lenore, with a smile that was too placid to be confident or boastful.
The countess smiled and looked at her.
"You are a strange girl, Lenore," she said. "What makes you think that?"
Lenore turned the bracelet on her arm.
"Something seems to whisper to me that he will come," she said. "Look!" And she just moved her hand toward the terrace. Leycester was coming slowly up the broad stone steps.
Lady Wyndward made a move forward, but Lenore's hand closed over her arm, and she stopped and looked at her.
Lenore shook her head, smiling softly.
"Better not," she murmured, scarcely above her breath. "Not yet. Leave him alone. Something has happened as you surmised. I have such keen eyes, you know, and can see his face."
So could Lady Wyndward by this time, and her own turned white at sight of the pale, haggard face.
"Do not go to him," whispered Lenore, "do not stop him. Leave him alone; it is good advice."
Lady Wyndward felt instinctively that it was, and so that she might not be tempted to disregard it, she turned away and went into the house.
Leycester came along the terrace, and raising his eyes, heavy and clouded, saw the ladies, but he only raised his hat and passed on. Then he came to where the figure in white, glimmering with pearls and diamonds, leaned against the column and he hesitated a moment, but there was no look of invitation in her eyes, only a faint smile, and he merely raised his hat again and passed on; but, half unconsciously, he had taken in the loveliness and grace of the picture that she made, and that was all that she desired for the present.
With heavy steps he crossed the hall, climbed the stairs, and entered his own room.
His man Oliver, who had been waiting for him and hanging about, came in softly, but stole out again at sight of the dusky figure lying wearily on the chair; but presently Leycester called him and he went back.
"Get a bath ready, Oliver," he said, "and pack a portmanteau; we shall leave to-night."
"Very good, my lord," was the quiet response, and then he went to prepare the bath.
Leycester got up and strode to and fro. Though she had never entered his rooms, the apartments seemed full of her; from the easel stared the disfigured Venus which he had daubed out on the first night he had seen her. On the table, in an Etruscan vase of crystal, were some of the wild flowers which her hand had plucked, her lips had pressed. These he took – not fiercely but solemnly – and threw out of the window.
Suddenly there floated upon the air the strains of solemn music. He started. He had almost forgotten Lilian; the great sorrow and misery had almost driven her from his memory. He sat the vase down upon the table, and went to her room; she knew his knock, and bade him come in, still playing.
But as he entered, she stopped suddenly, and the smile which had flown to her face to welcome him disappeared.
"Ley!" she breathed, looking up at his pale, haggard face and dark-rimmed eyes; "what has happened? What is the matter?"
He stood beside her, and bent and kissed her; his lips were dry and burning.
"Ley! Ley!" she murmured, and put her white arm round his neck to draw him down to her, "what is it?"
Then she scanned him with loving anxiety.
"How tired you look, Ley! Where have you been? Sit down!"
He sank into a low seat at her feet, and motioned to the piano.
"Go on playing," he said.
She started at his hoarse, dry voice, but turned to the piano, and played softly, and presently she knew, rather than saw, that he had hidden his face in his hands.
Then she stopped and bent over him.
"Now tell me, Ley!" she murmured.
He looked up with a bitter smile that cut her to the heart.
"It is soon told, Lil," he said, in a low voice, "and it is only an old, old story!"
"Ley!"
"I can tell you – I could tell only you, Lil – in a very few words. I have loved – and been deceived."
She did not speak, but she put her hand on his head where it lay like a peaceful benediction.
"I have staked my all, all my happiness and peace, upon a cast and have lost. I am very badly hit, and naturally I feel it very badly for a time!"
"Ley!" she murmured, reproachfully, "you must not talk to me like this; speak from your heart."
"I haven't any left, Lil!" he said; "there is only an aching void where my heart used to be. I lost it weeks ago – or was it months or years? I can't tell which now! – and she to whom I gave it, she whom I thought an angel of purity, a dove of innocence, has thrown it in the dirt and trampled upon it!"
"Ley, Ley, you torture me! Of whom are you speaking?"
"Of whom should I be speaking but the one woman the world holds for me?"
"Lenore!" she murmured, incredulously.
"Lenore!" and he laughed bitterly. "No; she did not pronounce her name so. I am speaking and thinking of Stella Etheridge."
Her hand trembled, but she did not withdraw it.
"Stella?"
"Yes," he said, and his lips twitched. "A star. A star that will shine in another man's bosom, not in mine as I, fool that I was, dreamed that it would. Lil, I believe that there is only one good woman in the world, and she sits near me now."
"Oh, Ley, Ley – but tell me!"
"There is so little to tell," he said, wearily. "I cannot tell you all. This will suffice, that to-night I expected and hoped to have been able to call her my wife, instead – well, you see, I am sitting here!"
"Your wife?" she murmured. "Stella Etheridge your wife. Was that – that wise, Ley?"
"Wise! What have I to do with wisdom?" he retorted. "I loved her – loved her passionately, madly, as I never, nor shall ever, love another woman! Heaven help me, I love her now! Don't you see that is the worst part of it. I know, as surely as I am sitting here, that my life has gone. It has gone to pieces on the rocks like a goodly ship, and there is an end of it!"
There was silence for a moment, then she spoke, and, woman-like, her thoughts were of the woman.
"But she, Ley? How is it with her?"
He laughed again, and the gentle girl shuddered.
"Don't Ley," she murmured.
"She will be all right," he said. "Women are made like that – all excepting one," and he touched her dress.
"And yet – and yet," she murmured, troubled and sorrowful, "now I look back I am sure that she loved you, Ley! I remember her face, the look of her eyes, the way she spoke your name. Oh, Ley, she loved you!"
"She did – perhaps. She loves me now so well, that on our wedding-day – wedding-day! – she allows a man to step in between us and claim her as his own!"
Maddened by the memory which her words had called up he would have risen, but she held him down with a gentle hand.
"A man! What man, Ley?"
"One called Jasper Adelstone, a lawyer; a man it would be gross flattery to call even a gentleman! Think of it, Lil. Picture it! I wait to receive my bride, and instead of it happening so, I am sent for to meet her at this man's chambers. There I am informed that all is over between us, and that she is the affianced wife of Mr. Jasper Adelstone."
"But the reason – the reason?"
"There is none!" he exclaimed, rising and pacing the room, "I am vouchsafed no reason. The bare facts are deemed sufficient for me. I am cast adrift, as something no longer necessary or needful, without word of reason or even of rhyme!" and he laughed.
She was silent for a moment, then a murmur broke from her lips.
"Poor girl!"
He stooped and looked down at her.
"Do not waste your pity, Lil," he said, with a grim smile. "With her own lips she declared that what she did she did of her own free will!"
"With this man standing by her side?"
He started, then he shook his head.
"I know what you mean!" he said, hoarsely. "And do you not see that that is the worst of it. She is in his power; there is some secret understanding between them. Can I marry a woman who is in another man's power so completely that she is forced to break her word to me, to jilt me for him! – can I?"
His voice was so hoarse and harsh as to be almost inarticulate, and he stood with outstretched, appealing hands, as if demanding an answer.
What could she say? For a moment she was silent, then she put out her hand to him.
"And you have left her with him, Ley?"
The question sent all the blood from his face.
"Yes," he said, wearily, "I have left her with her future husband. Possibly, probably, by this time she has become his wife. One man can procure a marriage license as easily as another."
"You did that! What would papa and my mother have said?" she murmured.
He laughed.
"What did, what should I care? I tell you I loved her madly; you do not know, cannot understand what such love means! Know, then, Lil, that I would rather have died than lose her – that, having lost her, life has become void and barren for me – that the days and hours until I forget her will be so much time of torture and regret, and vain, useless longing. I shall see her face, hear her voice, wherever I may be, in the day or in the night; and no pleasure, no pain will efface her from my memory or my heart."
"Oh, Ley! – my poor Ley!"
"Thus it is with me. And now I have come to say 'good-bye.'"
"Good-bye. You are going – where?"
"Where?" he echoed, with the same discordant laugh. "I neither know nor care. I am afraid all places will be alike for awhile. The whole earth is full of her; there is not a wild flower that will not remind me of her, not a sound of music that will not recall her voice. If I meet a woman I shall compare her with my Stella —my Stella! no, Jasper Adelstone's! Oh, Heaven! I could bear all but that. If she were dead, I should have at least one comfort – the consolation of knowing that she had belonged to no other man – that in some other remote world we might meet again, and I might claim her as mine! But that is denied to me. My white angel is stained and besmirched, and is mine no longer!"