A 
 
 BtRTRAND SMttM 
 14O Pacific 
 LONG
 
 I4KL 
 UlUfiU
 
 S ARDIA 
 
 A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 BY 
 
 CORA LINN DANIELS 
 
 BOSTON MDCCCXCT 
 LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 
 
 10 MILK STREET NEXT " THE OLD SOUTH MEETING HOUSE " 
 
 NEW YORK CHAS. T. DILLINGHAM 
 718 AND 720 BROADWAY
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1891, BY LEE AND SHEPARD 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 SARDI A
 
 I DEDICATE THIS, MY FIRST NOVEL, TO 
 
 WHO, IN HER LIFE, UNWITTINGLY FURNISHED ME WITH THE 
 
 TRAITS FROM WHICH I HAVE DRAWN THE 
 
 CHARACTER OF HELEN. 
 
 CORA LINN DANIELS. 
 
 2046582
 
 "Devise, wit! write, pen! for I am for whole vol 
 umes in folio"
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A SINGULAR WEDDING 7 
 
 II. AN UNUSUAL PROPOSITION 14 
 
 III. CONFIDENCES 22 
 
 IV. COMRADES 27 
 
 V. THE PRINCESS 32 
 
 VI. TUB BATTLE BEGINS 39 
 
 VII. WHICH WROTE IT ? 48 
 
 VIII. AN ENEMY 55 
 
 IX. THE SPIDER SPINS 61 
 
 X. ALL ABOUT A LETTER 69 
 
 XI. THE VISONTI SOLITAIRE 78 
 
 XII. A WOMAN S HAND 83 
 
 XIII. PRINCESS MENSHIKOFF S RECEPTION .... 91 
 
 XIV. A THOROUGHBRED 105 
 
 XV. UNREQUITED LOVE 115 
 
 XVI. LONGING 124 
 
 XVII. IN A NET 131 
 
 XVIII. AT LAST ! 140 
 
 XIX. A WEDDING RING 153 
 
 XX. Two HEARTS 159 
 
 XXI. DISCOVERED 170 
 
 XXII. A VAMPIRE 178 
 
 XXIII. A STUNNING ANNOUNCEMENT 187 
 
 XXIV. THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT 204 
 
 XXV. AN ACCOMPLISHED ACTRESS 212 
 
 XXVI. PROBATION 221 
 
 XXVII. THE ROSE BLOOMS . , 228
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 237 
 
 AVENGED .. 249 
 
 GOOD-BY 256 
 
 AVOWALS 262 
 
 SELF-CRITICISM 268 
 
 CONDEMNED 275 
 
 UNITED 282 
 
 ALMOST A TKAGEDY 287 
 
 THE CROWN AND CROSS. .... 292 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XXVIII. KEVELATIONS 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 XXXVI.
 
 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOYE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A SINGULAR WEDDING. 
 
 " Thrift, thrift Horatio ! the funeral baked meats 
 Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables." 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 IT was the evening of their marriage day. It had 
 been a singular wooing and as odd a wedding. The 
 bridal party had made the little trip from the old home 
 stead to the seaside villa, and the ladies had retired 
 to their rooms. Ralfe Fielding, the groom, and Guy 
 Thorne, his groomsman, hurriedly entered the library. 
 " I really don t know what to do about it ! " exclaimed 
 Fielding. " The telegram is imperative ! I cannot let 
 this business go ! It is of the utmost importance. And 
 besides, my uncle s old partner calling me to his death 
 bed ! How can I refuse ? " 
 
 " You cannot, in common decency," said Guy, decid 
 edly. " You will be obliged to go ! Let s see ! " con 
 sulting a guide-book. " You can leave here at eleven 
 o clock and get there to-morrow morning." 
 
 " But Helen ? " queried Ralfe, impatiently. " I sup 
 pose she must be told ? And on our wedding-day, too ! 
 What will she think ? Women go into hysterics over 
 every little thing." 
 
 " Every little thing ! " echoed Guy, slightly astonished.
 
 8 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 "Helen -won t though," he added, quietly, "she is too 
 sensible. Besides, you will be back in a week." 
 
 " Yes, that is true," with a sigh. 
 
 "Why, man, you sigh as if coming back were the 
 bore instead of going ! " and Guy laughed as he selected 
 a Havana. " But we have an hour yet, let s smoke." 
 
 Fielding took a light from his friend and said, " Guy, 
 you are the least curious person I ever knew. Why 
 don t you ask me some question about this sudden 
 marriage ? By Jove, I really wish you would ! It 
 would help me." 
 
 " Well, then, in two words, why did you marry ? 
 You, a contented bachelor, living in Europe like a 
 prince and enjoying the smiles of every beauty in the 
 capital ; why, indeed, did you pick up your traps, rush 
 home and in less than a month after arriving, marry 
 this young woman whom you had never seen ? I never 
 was so thunderstruck in my life as I was when, on 
 getting across, your laconic telegram was handed me. 
 Come and see me married, it said ! Two months ago 
 you were in Paris." 
 
 " Very true," replied Fielding quietly. " It is a short 
 story. My uncle Ralfe, for whom I was named, was an 
 eccentric old gentleman. He married a wife whom he 
 sincerely loved. She died very soon after their mar 
 riage. He was faithful to her memory. I was his only 
 nephew. He adopted me when I was twelve years old. 
 Helen was his wife s only niece. Some years after, 
 he* adopted her also. He sent me to college, then to 
 Europe, as you know, to study medicine. He educated 
 Helen in a Convent school until she was eighteen, when 
 he took her home to live with him. Meantime he had 
 amassed a great fortune. He built this villa and his 
 residence in New York, and had fairly begun to live 
 and enjoy himself, when he was suddenly taken ill with
 
 HOW IT HAPPENED 9 
 
 what proved to be a fatal disease. When his will was 
 opened after the funeral, it contained simply two clauses 
 and one condition. If the condition was not fulfilled, 
 the whole estate was to pass to charitable institutions." 
 Ralfe paused and sighed. He then went on slowly. 
 " The property was to be equally divided between his 
 niece Helen Gray and his nephew Ralfe Fielding, on 
 condition that they should marry before the young 
 lady should attain her twenty-first birthday. Mean 
 time each was to enjoy the income of their respective 
 shares. The estate was in the best possible condition. 
 There was not a debt of twenty dollars. It was excel 
 lently invested. There was just one year and seven 
 months in which we were allowed our freedom. To 
 morrow Miss Gray I mean my wife will be twenty- 
 one." 
 
 Guy puffed a long line of smoke from his lips, and 
 ejaculated, "Hum!" 
 
 "Of course," continued Ralfe, "it would have been 
 absurd to have given up a million apiece ! She felt 
 that as well as I. At least, her lawyers so informed 
 mine. I sometimes think those old fellows patched 
 up the match between them," with a half laugh ; " but, 
 at any rate, I was unable to decide, and in the only 
 communication I ever had from her I was given to 
 understand that, in answer to my question, she had 
 nothing to say, save that perhaps it would be best to 
 settle it in a personal interview ; so I packed up and 
 came. We began awkwardly enough, but as you say, 
 Guy (though I don t see how you found it out in a 
 few hours), she was very sensible, and after a month s 
 courtship that s the proper word, isn t it ? we 
 well, here we are, married, thoroughly married by rule, 
 law and bond, clergyman and ring ! " 
 
 " A finely settled business arrangement. Quite Pari-
 
 10 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 sian ! " murmured Guy in a slow, sarcastic drawl. " Not 
 a vestige of love about it." 
 
 " Love ! " exclaimed Fielding, " don t talk to me of 
 love. That s all past with me forever." 
 
 " Is it possible Sybil Visonti made so deep an impres 
 sion upon you as that ? " cried Guy in a sympathetic tone. 
 " Did you indeed love that strange, magnetic woman ? 
 What charm did she throw over you ? I thought I was 
 hard hit, but I almost ceased to think of her three days 
 after I left her." 
 
 " And I have thought of nothing else ! " exclaimed 
 Ralfe, passionately. " I see her before me, I dream of 
 her, 1 still love her." 
 
 " Hush ! don t speak so loud what if Helen but 
 she was not, she can never be worthy of your manly 
 love, Ralfe," said Guy, as Ralfe drew the heavy cur 
 tains closer. " She treated you with shameful silence. 
 Forget her ! " 
 
 " I cannot." 
 
 " But your wife ! Helen ! " cried Guy, getting up 
 a little faster than was his wont. " She ! Is all love 
 past with her ? or all beginning ? What is her feeling 
 in this matter ? Have you questioned her heart ? Or 
 is she as cold as you are, and as mercenary, by Heaven ! " 
 
 " Hold on. I don t think either of us were very mer 
 cenary. We both did our best to get out of it by be 
 stowing our millions upon each other. But the lawyers 
 said No/ and well ! it is as you say, a sort of French 
 marriage ; but it is said those sometimes turn out very 
 well indeed." And Ralfe came and put his arm on Guy s 
 shoulder. " Look here, Guy," said he, " Helen is as you 
 said, sensible. I told her that she must take me as 
 I am. I said I would always be kind, true, tender to 
 her. I conveyed the best possible friendship. I treated 
 her as a gentleman should. I respect her; I may say
 
 A GRACEFUL ACCEPTANCE 11 
 
 I honor her. She has acted the part of a most delicate 
 and refined lady in the whole matter. But I really don t 
 think she expects me to love her. Why should she ? " 
 
 " Does she love you ? " 
 
 " Love me ? " repeated Ealfe in a startled tone. 
 " Why, I never thought of such a thing. Love me ? 
 Why, no ; of course not. Why should she ? " 
 
 " Well, she might, you know, old fellow. You are not 
 such a bad specimen of manhood, and she was in a Con 
 vent up to eighteen. For God s sake, Kalfe," said Guy 
 very much in earnest now, " I hope she does not love 
 you. If she does, Heaven help her ! " 
 
 " Don t be foolish," smiled Ralf e, incredulously. " The 
 young lady is this moment in her room, planning some 
 new fichu or filagree with her maid. But truly we 
 must let her know that I must leave. We must send 
 for her. Please ring the bell." 
 
 The gentlemen waited some little time before Mrs. 
 Fielding made her appearance. She came in with a 
 laughing remark about her delay. Guy thought he had 
 never seen a more beautiful woman. Her delicately 
 carved features were of a marble-like paleness to be sure, 
 but on her cheeks bright red spots burned warmly. 
 Her eyes sparkled with some hidden excitement. Dark 
 as night, large and glowing, they seemed to flood her 
 countenance with a radiance of beauty. Her long, 
 sweeping dress of some delicate tissue, with a thousand 
 dainty puffs and laces, displaying the gleaming white 
 throat and the snowy arms, made her appear so queenly, 
 so statuesque, that even Ealfe, whose artistic sense 
 was most exquisitely sensitive, could find no flaw in 
 her. She turned to him with a smile. 
 
 " You wished my presence ? " 
 
 " Yes," he said in an embarrassed tone. " I have just 
 received this telegram," placing it gently in her hand.
 
 12 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " I feel it impossible to neglect such a desire in one so 
 near our uncle. Indeed," he added deprecatingly, "I see 
 no way but to go." 
 
 She read it slowly. Her hand trembled a little. 
 Guy noticed it ; Ralfe did not. 
 
 "Of course you must go," she finally replied. "I 
 think there is no possible choice in such a matter. And 
 what can I do for you ? " cheerfully. " How can I help 
 you away ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Ralph, very much relieved, " Wilson 
 will do everything for me. In fact, I have given him 
 his orders. I am sorry to have disturbed you," he added 
 kindly, and then, with the least hint of forcing himself, 
 he continued, " I regret exceedingly this inappropriate 
 event ; but I shall only be gone a week at farthest. 
 Make yourself happy, and do not for an instant think of 
 me. Miss Lulu will remain with you, and Guy says, if 
 his society will make up for mine" (with a smiling gri 
 mace), "he shall be only too happy to stay until my 
 return." 
 
 "He is very welcome," said his wife, cordially. "No 
 doubt we shall manage to amuse ourselves. By the way, 
 I expect two good saddle horses down from the farm 
 to-morrow (I believe I did not mention it to you, Ralfe), 
 and Miss Lulu and Mr. Thorne can have a canter." 
 
 She had not seated herself, and at this moment Wil 
 son appeared with bags and traps, standing respectfully 
 in the hallway. 
 
 " The carriage will be around directly, sir," said he. 
 
 " Then I will not wait, but bid you adieu now," quietly 
 said Mrs. Fielding. " A pleasant journey ! And you, 
 Mr. Thorne, I shall see you in the morning." And with 
 a gracious bow and charming smile she slowly moved 
 up-stairs. 
 
 "Well!" exclaimed Guy under his breath, "I don t
 
 THE DEPARTURE 13 
 
 think there is much to worry about there. Her heart is 
 safe enough." 
 
 " What did I tell you, Guy ! " remarked Ealfe as she 
 disappeared. But he had followed that graceful figure 
 with a wistful eye, and while he was bowled along 
 through the darkness, he thought of her more than he 
 had ever supposed he could.
 
 14 SARDIA; A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN UNUSUAL PROPOSITION. 
 
 "And yet, and yet," 
 
 A WEEK had passed and Ealfe had returned. Dinner 
 was over and the two guests had started away on their 
 evening gallop. " Do you care to drive, Helen ? " in 
 quired Kalfe as she watched them ride gayly off. "I 
 really feel a little weary with to-day s travel, and if you 
 don t inind," 
 
 " No indeed ! and besides, I really wish to have a little 
 chat with you. I believe we have not yet been alone for 
 a moment since " she hesitated, and then went on softly, 
 "since our wedding-day." Ealfe gathered himself to 
 gether with what grace a man may who . expects to be 
 thoroughly bored. 
 
 " Certainly," he acquiesced, gently, " I shall be charmed." 
 
 "What can be in his mind," thought Helen, noticing 
 with a quick eye every change in his countenance. 
 
 " You know," said she in an off-hand sort of way, so new 
 that it rather startled Ealfe, " You know that any pre 
 tence of love between you and me would be mere folly, 
 and so, since you have been gone, I have been thinking 
 of a plan." She stopped to let him take in her full 
 meaning. Ealfe swung around on his seat. She was 
 sitting on the stone steps of the veranda. Great stone 
 columns and balustrades covered with ivy and honey 
 suckle were her background; the setting sun flooded 
 the whole scene, and sent a soft, roseate glow over her
 
 A MUTUAL AGREEMENT 15 
 
 pure, fair face. Her favorite costume of soft white, 
 rippling with laces, became her perfect figure as does a 
 drapery about some old-time statue. She was the picture 
 of quiet, harmonious loveliness. Kalfe was shocked. 
 Could a beautiful woman like this talk in such a practi 
 cal way ? He longed to hear her utter something less 
 harsh. He only said, " Indeed ? " 
 
 " Yes," she went on swiftly. " Of course I understand 
 that all sentiment would be a farce ; the only thing to do 
 is to banish the very idea of it. So, if you please, let us 
 be jolly good friends, comrades, hail fellows well met. 
 Surely we can get along nicely in that way. We need 
 not be at all intimate. When we like, we can talk, and 
 when we don t like, we certainly can avoid each other ! 
 As for troubling ourselves about each other at all, I can 
 not see the need. Thanks to your kindness, I am to 
 have my own income, and as old Judge Davis advised, 
 we had each better keep our own accounts. Then we 
 shall not be annoyed as husbands and wives generally 
 are, by questions of money. You can have your choice 
 of the establishments, and we can live together or apart, 
 just as we please, only we must not give Mrs. Grundy 
 a chance to gossip." 
 
 Her manner was quite unlike anything he had ever 
 seen in her before, but Kalfe was too much a man of the 
 world to show his surprise. Indeed, he told Guy after 
 wards that he had never felt so relieved in his life. 
 
 He said promptly, " My friend, Helen, then ! " and 
 shook hands pleasantly. "I only object to making a 
 choice of establishments. Let us occupy either as we 
 please, and go up to the farm when it suits us. As you 
 say, we will give Mrs. Grundy no chance to talk ; at the 
 same time we may each feel perfectly free so far as honor 
 and courtesy and mutual respect permit." He said this 
 last with a rather grand air.
 
 16 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " You take for granted I respect you, comrade ! " she 
 laughed. 
 
 "Do you not ? " he asked almost sternly. 
 
 "I do respect you, I may say I honor you, sir," she 
 answered with a haughty grace, and swept into the house. 
 
 As Ralfe remained in the twilight, pondering his wife s 
 last words, they seemed strangely familiar, yet he could 
 no tell why. He was of an analytical mind and given 
 to silent consideration of even the most trifling events. 
 Educated with the utmost care, and always free from 
 petty annoyances concerning money, he had developed 
 into a leisurely thinking and leisurely acting man. In 
 tellectually he was serenity itself. Emotionally he was 
 somewhat impulsive. He generally abandoned himself to 
 an easy repose verging on indolence, but which was full of 
 a pent-up energy which only needed occasion to exert itself 
 with surprising power. He carried with him an air of 
 reserve which was softened by a graciousness which won, 
 while it did not permit the least familiarity. His coun 
 tenance was what might be designated as fine rather than 
 handsome. Dark hair brushed back from the high fore 
 head, eyes grave and quiet, but filled with a subtle 
 sweetness of expression which sometimes flashed into 
 rarest humor. 
 
 His mouth alone betrayed the sensitive, poetic, easily 
 wounded and easily aroused temper of its owner. Under 
 the dark, silky mustache, this delicate and beautifully cut 
 member trembled and smiled in defiance of Ralfe s will. 
 It was well at times that it was nearly concealed. 
 
 Mr. Fielding s manner was one of thoughtful courtesy. 
 With rare delicacy he never trespassed nor intruded, 
 never forgot proprieties, never intentionally annoyed. 
 To women he was deferential ; to men, cordial. 
 
 He aimed to enjoy life as much as possible so long as 
 he wronged no one and deprived no one of equal pleasure.
 
 A PROJECT 17 
 
 His ideas were based upon a certain personal morality 
 rather than upon the customs of society. As Guy had 
 lovingly remarked, he was " not such a bad specimen of 
 manhood, you know." 
 
 He was thinking now of a woman quite opposite in style 
 and character to this lovely wife of his, " wife in name," 
 he sighed to himself. His memory called up Sybil Visonti 
 as a vision. What a woman ! How that dark, fascinating 
 face, with its eyes of velvet flame, passionate, humid, 
 glowing, flashing, all in a single quarter hour, the lips that 
 breathed a peculiar music in every tone, the arms that 
 seemed to always long to embrace, the strangely moving 
 hands which made such subtly expressive gestures, adding 
 an undulating and rhythmic grace to every tender word, 
 rushed upon his sight, and even in imagination almost 
 blinded him. He shuddered as he stood in the warm 
 June air. A chill, a sudden deathly feeling, swept over 
 him. " What was her wonderful power ? " he murmured. 
 " Why was I left without an answer ? " He went down 
 into the garden, and paced a long time, thinking, thinking. 
 He laughed a little scornfully at last. " What a fool a 
 man can make of himself ! She went without a word to 
 answer my passionate declaration. Yet how she looked 
 at me that last night when I put her into the carriage ! 
 Her touch was like fire a caress of fire ! I must not 
 think of her. I will not ! and yet, and yet/ 
 
 "I say!" broke in Guy s voice on his reverie, "come 
 in here, Kalfe, we want you." 
 
 "Yes," cried Lulu Morris, coming down the path, 
 " come, Mr. Fielding, we have a project. Don t you 
 love projects ? I do. I think projects are the nicest 
 things in the world, especially when we don t know 
 what they are, and none of us do but Helen. It is she 
 who has gotten it up. Isn t she nice ? " 
 
 Lulu was a real little ray of sunshine. Breezy, jolly
 
 18 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 little Lu ! Her merry laugh and rattling talk would 
 make the dullest party gay. She " loved " everything, 
 from strawberries to flirtations ; and every living thing, 
 from kittens and babies up to the sternest old grand 
 father in the world, loved Lu. 
 
 " Helen is a darling," she went on, as they mounted 
 the steps. "I never saw a pony go so in my life as hers 
 did to-night, didn t it, Mr. Thome ? Isn t Helen a dar 
 ling to let me ride every single night ? " 
 
 Ralfe looked at Helen and smiled amiably. 
 
 "All pretty women are darlings; but Helen she is 
 a comrade," and he gave a short laugh. 
 
 " A what ? " said Lu, astonished. 
 
 " I am a comrade. And I mean to make a loyal one, 
 too. See how I have begun. Ealfe will be pleased to 
 acknowledge my immediate fulfilling of duty, I am sure. 
 See this list of people whom I have invited to amuse 
 him ! " 
 
 "Is that your project?" he asked, in a disappointed 
 tone, while Guy looked pleased, and Lulu went into 
 raptures. 
 
 " Yes ; do you not like it ? I was sure you would like 
 to fill this great house with people, so I have invited the 
 ladies, and thought you and Mr. Thome might select 
 half a dozen agreeable gentlemen." 
 
 Ealfe was again smiling. "Ah, so kind. I shall be 
 delighted. Guy," he added, indolently, " whom shall we 
 have? 
 
 " But you don t know what ladies are coming ! " ex 
 claimed Lu. " You must match them with suitable 
 partners, you know." 
 
 " Well, whom are we to welcome, Helen ? " 
 
 "I wanted Jo Millard, because she is so witty, so fer 
 tile in invention, and such a fine hand at arranging all 
 sorts of entertainments; then she is dying to come to
 
 THE VISONTI 19 
 
 the sea, and I know the poor child needs a change. 
 Then I have asked Cecile Gray, my cousin, a dear, good 
 girl with a history, a little quiet, but plays divinely, 
 and Sybil Visonti." 
 
 "The Visonti!" "Sybil Visonti!" cried both gen 
 tlemen in a breath. 
 
 " What surprises you so ? " said Helen, turning from 
 one to the other. " Do you know her ? " 
 
 " Of course we do," drawled Guy in his most indolent 
 manner, coming to the rescue of Ralfe. " We have both 
 flirted our heads off with her in Paris, and I don t know 
 many fellows who haven t." 
 
 Ralfe flushed a dark red. His lip quivered beneath 
 its silken shield. He was silently angry with Guy, at 
 the same time that he thanked him for announcing in 
 this cool manner what must inevitably be known if Miss 
 Visonti arrived. 
 
 " I think yo.u wrong her, Guy," he was about to say, 
 when Helen remarked with considerable spirit, " You do 
 Sybil Visonti wrong ! I cannot believe that she flirts 
 with every man she meets. She has too much discrimi 
 nation. I admit that she enjoys flirting, but her taste 
 is irreproachable. She is thoroughly accomplished, and 
 one of the best bred women I have ever met. Even as 
 a young girl in the Convent, she was our model for grace 
 of manner." 
 
 "And of morals also?" murmured Guy; but the 
 query was covered by Ralfe s " Oh ! That is where you 
 knew her. Have you seen her since she left school ? " 
 
 " No ; I have not seen her for several years. She is 
 considerably older than I. We correspond regularly, 
 however. She writes letters which are as fascinating as 
 her conversation, and I value them in a literary way 
 more than those of any acquaintance I have." 
 
 Ralfe had almost uttered, " Did she ever mention
 
 20 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 me ? " when he remembered Helen had asked, in a sur 
 prised tone, if he knew her, which convinced him that 
 Sybil had not been disloyal, had not paraded his love 
 before the eyes of a schoolgirl " intimate." A feeling 
 of renewed faith and gratitude swept over him at the 
 thought. 
 
 " There is one thing I may frankly say of Miss 
 Visonti," said Guy, pleasantly. " She never says an 
 unkind or evil thing of any one. If she cannot find 
 some beautiful quality to praise, she says nothing at all. 
 But she seldom discusses others anyway. I never saw 
 a person whose whole conversation circled out like the 
 spokes of a wheel so, as hers does." 
 
 " And what is the hub ? " asked Lu, earnestly. 
 
 Herself," said Guy. 
 
 " I think we have discussed her long enough," calmly 
 remarked Helen. " That she is a magnificent woman 
 no one can deny. Her beauty, talent, birth, and wealth 
 are all in her favor. I shall be happy to have her 
 here." 
 
 " So shall I," cried Ealfe, for the instant forgetting 
 policy or believing policy unnecessary. " This place 
 shall be made a paradise to welcome her." 
 
 As he thus exclaimed, his wife rose and, seemingly 
 without motive, sank on an ottoman near his feet. A 
 shaft of moonlight irradiated her countenance. She 
 raised her eyes to the sky, and seemed absorbed in 
 thought. Her head, with its golden crown of hair, her 
 exquisite features, all saddened by a wistful droop of the 
 mouth, yet unutterably lovely, appealed to him even in 
 the midst of his speech. He gazed at her at first criti 
 cally, and then, by some singular attraction, almost 
 tenderly. 
 
 " So unlike," he thought ; and then again, but in so 
 different a sense, " and yet, and yet "
 
 GUESTS 21 
 
 As before, Guy s voice broke in : " What men shall 
 we have, Ralfe ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don t know. Who are back from Europe ? Is 
 Charlie Vane at home yet ? They say he made one of 
 the finest copies of The Ascension that an American 
 ever painted." 
 
 "Yes; he came over in the same steamer with me. 
 And Sardia. Do you know Sardia ? " 
 
 "I should think so," laughed Ralfe. "I was becalmed 
 with him ten days in his yacht, on the Mediterranean, 
 and he and I were the first men who stood on the Pyra 
 mids that year we did the Nile. Is he over ? But we 
 cannot get him. He is always engaged ten deep." 
 
 " I think we can," put in Guy, positively. " He told 
 me hardly any one knew he was coming. We can try, 
 anyway." 
 
 " Oh, do, do ! " cried Lu. "I think Sardia is a splen 
 did name ! He has a steam yacht and has done the 
 Pyramids ! What a splendid conversationalist he must 
 be ! I like travelled men so much. They amuse me 
 without making me amuse them." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " laughed Guy. "Wouldn t Sardia smile at 
 that ! Think of setting the elegant, the irresistible 
 Sardia, the grand seignior to amusing a little chick 
 like you ! " 
 
 " You do it," said Lu ; " you put yourself out to do it," 
 and she pouted like a little child. 
 
 Helen awoke from her reverie, and laughed in so 
 musical, so bewitching a way that they all joined in 
 together. " Little goose ! " she said with the sweetest 
 accent, " of course he does ! I shall be glad to meet 
 Sardia again," she added. "I remember he spent a few 
 days with my uncle some years ago. I thought him then 
 a kind of prince. He always brought me a bunch of 
 violets."
 
 22 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CONFIDENCES. 
 
 " A child of our grandmother Eve, a female ; or, for thy more 
 sweet understanding, a woman." 
 
 Love s Labor s Lost. 
 
 SEVERAL weeks had passed by. The gay watering-place 
 was in the height of the season. The drive was brilliant 
 every afternoon with every possible style of turnout, 
 not the least admired of which was Mrs. Fielding s quiet 
 landau. A singular curiosity had attached itself in the 
 minds of " the best people" to the marriage of this 
 young couple. Something of the story which Kalfe had 
 told Guy had found its way into the current of daily 
 chatter, and had become exaggerated until it made Mr. 
 and Mrs. Fielding " the rage." Their " cottage," which 
 was in fact a villa of almost enormous dimensions, was 
 the scene of all possible gayeties and the most unique 
 and agreeable affairs. Filled with guests who had been 
 selected with the utmost tact and comprehension ; sur 
 rounded by grounds so extensive and so beautifully 
 arranged that even the English visitors could do nothing 
 but praise ; the sea, ever glorious, in full view and all 
 the attractions of a fashionable watering-place close at 
 hand, together with a host and hostess whose first greet 
 ing put every one at ease and whose overflowing and 
 thoughtful hospitality made every moment more enchant 
 ing, the place seemed indeed a Paradise. All gave them 
 selves up to unalloyed enjoyment, and, as Lu demurely
 
 A FASCINATING WOMAN 23 
 
 remarked in a sudden silence one evening, "We are all 
 positively seething in flirtation, aren t we ? " There 
 seemed an exception to the rule. Ralfe certainly could 
 not be accused of the slightest tendency to while away 
 the summer hours in idle dalliance. His horses, his 
 various little trips, the clubs, the hotels, and some mys 
 terious writing which he regularly pursued in the library 
 every day, seemed to occupy his whole attention. A 
 model host, he still held himself aloof from the least 
 attempt to amuse himself with the ladies. He was quite 
 as courteous to one as to the other. " An awfully im 
 partial creature," said Lulu, discontentedly. 
 
 " But the Visonti has not arrived," answered Guy in a 
 confidential tone to this little observation. "We shall 
 then see what we shall see ! " 
 
 " Was he dreadfully hard hit, as you men say ? " 
 curiously questioned Lu. 
 
 "I don t know, dear," for things had gone on quite 
 fast between these two and they were sometimes very 
 quietly, dear and darling to each other. " I don t 
 know, but I rather think he was worse than the rest of 
 us. / adored her, you know." 
 
 " Oh, Guy ! " reproachfully. Then with a soft little 
 twinkle, " But you adore me noiv, don t you, Guy ? " 
 
 " Yes, awfully ! who could help it ? " 
 
 " Is she so fascinating ? " 
 
 "Yes, dear, she is a fascinating woman. I know, pet, 
 when I say that, no idea of jealousy will ever enter your 
 lovely head. You are my heart, but yes, a fascinating, 
 dangerous, subtle woman. Her whole aim in life is to 
 have her own will. The end is what she means to gain, 
 no matter how. She will twist, turn, tease, hang, act a 
 thousand different moods from farce to tragedy to accom 
 plish the least object on which she has set her mind. 
 If she cannot move by persuasion, she will make a mar-
 
 24 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 tyr of herself, weep, mourn and then smile, turn herself 
 into a saint, and so wrap herself in an atmosphere of 
 sweetness and light, that you are led to bend the 
 knee in adoration. She manages to throw a glamour over 
 her lightest action, and beware, Lu ! She wins women 
 as easily as she does men. I have seen her table loaded 
 with gifts from women. She possesses a strange unde- 
 finable power to which all must, more or less, yield." 
 
 " Helen loves her," said Lu. 
 
 "Yes, even our beautiful Helen seems to have the 
 same thrall over her ; but still, Lu dear, at times when 
 we have mentioned her coming, I have seen a singular 
 expression flit over her countenance as if she had some 
 secret dislike even to her name." 
 
 "She turns pale sometimes when I ask her about 
 Miss Visonti. I wonder if she fears her ? " 
 
 " Why should she ? " asked Guy in a surprised 
 tone." 
 
 " If Helen were in love with "Ralfe, she might indeed 
 be afraid, not," he added hastily, " that the Visonti 
 can compare with Helen as being a true, beautiful, 
 noble woman, but she has arts that no innocent woman 
 can know ; subtle, entrancing ways which only come 
 from a combination of experience and unscrupulous- 
 ness." 
 
 " How utterly different to Helen ! She is so good 
 as well as so intellectual ! " 
 
 " She is a woman who can express fine thought finely. 
 Her soul is of a more delicate cast than many." 
 
 " She always makes me think of that peculiar flower 
 we find in the dim old woods, the Indian Pipe. The 
 perfume is spicy, the texture exquisite, the color pure, 
 spotless white." 
 
 " The Visonti is the deadly night-shade, or the scarlet 
 poppy ! I never think of her without remembering what
 
 WHERE LOVE IS SENT 25 
 
 Charlie Vane said of her the first time he saw her. 
 You know how clairvoyant, how keen-sighted Charlie is ! 
 How he seems to pierce one through and through, and 
 read one s very soul ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Lu ; and then irrelevantly, " I think him 
 the most of a saint I ever saw." 
 
 " So .do I," echoed Guy, heartily. " Well, I asked him 
 one evening after his first presentation to the Visonti, 
 What is she, anyway, Charlie ? Can you make her 
 out ? She is a vampire ! he answered. She eats 
 one up body and soul. And he meant it ! " 
 
 " How do you know Helen is not in love with Ralfe ? " 
 suddenly queried Lu, with an air of just hitting upon a 
 hidden truth. 
 
 
 
 " Would she invite that woman here and persist in 
 praising her ? Would she throw those two together, as 
 they must be in this house, if she cared one iota for 
 Ralfe s love?" 
 
 " Of course she does not know Ralfe really cares for 
 her ! I don t believe she knew Ralfe was acquainted 
 with Miss Visonti when she proposed to invite her. 
 Besides, she has not seen her for years, and may not 
 know she is a dangerous flirt. She defended her with 
 great spirit the other night. You need not be so posi 
 tive. You men think you see everything, but you are 
 blind as bats, as bats, I say. I don t know why they 
 should not love each other, they are a glorious couple." 
 
 "Yes, but they don t. Love goes where it is 
 sent." 
 
 " You were sent with it to me, were you not, Guy ? " 
 she said, innocently. " Did you wish to come ? " 
 
 " I found you waiting," he laughed, provokingly ; 
 "waiting and ready." 
 
 " I confess," meekly, " and now love is going where it 
 is sent again," solemnly.
 
 26 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " Where ? Where ? " cried Guy eagerly, as her 
 bewitching little face turned down the garden walk. 
 
 " To be amused by Sardia," she sang saucily, and off 
 she went, leaving Guy to finish his cigar, with just the 
 least touch of jealousy in his heart, for Lu was a coquette 
 and never let him feel too secure.
 
 COMRADES 27 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 COMRADES. 
 
 " By the pricking of my thumbs, 
 Something wicked this way comes." 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 THE advent of the Visonti was quite in character. 
 Ralfe and Helen, as it chanced, were sitting alone. 
 They did not expect their guest until six o clock. It 
 was about four in the afternoon. The house was de 
 serted by their guests. The ladies were driving, the 
 gentlemen were variously engaged. Ralfe had seated 
 himself in the library, and was reading some of his own 
 manuscript. The room was dark, cool, and inviting. 
 Roses clambered about the old-fashioned, diamond-paned 
 windows, and nodded their perfumed heads at the big 
 bowl of blossoms in the great fireplace ; the sun, soft 
 ened by a glow of color in a window high up in the wall, 
 threw a circle of rich hues on the mossy floor. Books, 
 books, books, how many, how rare, how intelligently 
 arranged they were ! and peeping out from curtains 
 whose rich color and texture made a fitting background 
 were bronzes, marbles, and an easel on which rested the 
 only picture in the room a portrait of Helen. Ralfe 
 looked up from his paper to meet the eyes of both por 
 trait and original. " Stand still ! " said he, in a tone too 
 courteous to be imperious. He gazed at one face and 
 then the other with a critical expression. " Huntley did 
 well," he said at last in a satisfied way, then again 
 glanced interestedly at his sheet. Helen stepped aside
 
 28 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 a little, and smiling gravely, with a half-timid air 
 approached him. 
 
 " May I come in, comrade ? " 
 
 The least shadow, almost undefinable, crept across his 
 face for an instant, then he rose with his usual indolent 
 grace, and taking her hand, led her as he might have 
 done an honored visitor to the easiest chair, brought a 
 foot-stool, and to her surprise gently lifted one foot and 
 then the other on to this pretty resting-place. A per 
 fumed fan lay on his desk. He handed it to her, and 
 then, leaning over her chair, asked pleasantly, 
 
 " Are you answered ? " 
 
 " How graceful you are ! " in a monotone. " I could 
 half believe you were foreign. Does living in Europe 
 impart this delicacy of manner ? " 
 
 " I admit that Americans are not so particular about 
 trifles as foreigners, especially Italian and French gen 
 tlemen ; but I hardly think true courtesy is due to asso 
 ciation or race. It is proverbial that America is the 
 country in which a lady may travel alone from Maine to 
 San "Francisco and only meet with perfect deference all 
 the way." 
 
 " I did not express myself well," said Helen, humbly. 
 " I meant a certain grace, almost homage, which I find 
 in the manner of Europeans, and Americans who have 
 long been resident in foreign lands." 
 
 " Sardia is an excellent specimen of that class of men. 
 I believe ladies consider him to be irresistible." 
 
 " He is my idea of Bayard, without fear and without 
 reproach," murmured Helen, dreamily. She sank back 
 in her chair, and behind the great fan which she swung 
 with languid grace to and fro Ralfe could see a slow, 
 bright flush steal over her face and a deep, warm light 
 into her eyes. For an instant he felt almost hatred of 
 Sardia. He thought in a flash, " She is my wife, and she 
 loves Sardia ! "
 
 A TETE A TETE 29 
 
 " Sardia is a very good fellow," he assented in his 
 usual calm way. " By the way, you are engaged to ride 
 with him this evening, and after that a look in at the 
 hop at the Arnolds who is to take care of Miss 
 Visonti ? " 
 
 " Why, you, of course ! " starting up in surprise. 
 "Are you going to preserve the supreme indifference of 
 your manner even to her ? I thought nothing would 
 please you better than to renew that pretty Parisian 
 affair Guy mentioned. Will it not ? " 
 
 This every-day way of putting his great love for 
 Sybil Visonti seemed to Ralfe almost an insult. " That 
 pretty Parisian affair ! " How impossible it seemed that 
 any one should dare so to touch upon his passion. Yet 
 what could he say ? Could he own that the " affair " 
 was so important to him that his very soul seemed rent 
 when his bouquet and his declaration of love were re 
 turned, the latter rudely torn open ? Could he appeal 
 to Helen s sympathy or display anger at her innocently 
 gay phrase ? He took refuge in his favorite sentence 
 when thoroughly perplexed or annoyed. 
 
 " I shall be charmed." 
 
 " I do not wish to intrude upon you," went on Helen 
 in a moment, " and I do not expect confidences. But 
 are we not comrades? Should we not try to be inter 
 ested in each other ? " She paused and looked at him 
 in so sweet, so entreating a way that he could but feel 
 her winsomeness and be touched by her beauty. 
 
 " What can she wish me to tell her ? " thought he. 
 " Does she really think I shall give her a history of 
 what she calls that pretty affair ? I need not try to 
 be interested in you. I am so, always," he remarked, 
 quietly evading her. 
 
 " But will you not tell me ? " she persisted ; " may I 
 not know,"
 
 30 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " About Miss Visouti ? Why, there is little to tell. 
 I" 
 
 "Oh, Ralfe ! do you think me so rude, so unwomanly 
 as that ? " cried she, rising and bending towards him with 
 blushes chasing over her beautiful cheeks and flushing 
 even the snowy throat. "I do not wish to know any 
 thing of Sybil Visonti. I am not in the least curious as 
 to your past; it is the present," she murmured, her voice 
 growing mellow and sweet ; " it is something nobler and 
 higher, I believe, than a passing flirtation. It is your 
 work, Ralfe. This." 
 
 She laid her hand on the pile of manuscript which he 
 had been correcting. She touched it reverently, and 
 looked at him with an expression of pride and interest. 
 
 " They are poems," said Ralfe, briefly. " I have always 
 written more or less. I am collecting and arranging them 
 with an idea that some time I may publish them." 
 
 "I am so proud." 
 
 " Are you, really ? " he asked eagerly. " Are you glad 
 I am not always a mere idler ? Do you take interest in 
 such things ? I have never yet found a woman with 
 whom I could sit down and really converse on poetry. 
 They all admire it, they all quote it, they all do a little 
 of it themselves ; but none criticize it in a masterly way. 
 No one tears what I do to pieces ! " 
 
 " Is that your idea of a good critic ? " Helen laughed, 
 and catching up the first sheet, she playfully tore it 
 straight across. 
 
 " Why, Helen ! " cried he, catching her hand and look 
 ing at her in amazement, " what a strange thing for you 
 to do ! " 
 
 " Oh, there s mischief in me," she laughed defiantly, 
 and then demurely handing him the pieces said, " It was 
 blank, you see." 
 
 Ralfe looked pleased. His wife had never been so gay
 
 AN INTERRUPTION 31 
 
 or so free with him before. He liked this little show of 
 fun, without questioning the feeling. 
 
 " Read one, will you ? " she pleaded. 
 
 " Yes," said he, with a new and agreeable sense of 
 companionship, " I will with pleasure." 
 
 Helen resumed her seat, and turned to him a face so 
 full of pleased expectation that he felt a strange intellec 
 tual exhilaration. To a man of his temperament appre 
 ciation is the sweetest thing in life. Without it the 
 whole being droops and fades ; with it the germs of 
 beautiful deeds spring into leaf, flower, and fruitage with 
 wonderful celerity. He took up a sheet lying apart from 
 the rest, and had just opened his lips to announce the 
 title, glancing at his beautiful auditor with a new delight, 
 when suddenly, without a sound, a tall, dark figure stood 
 before them and startled both, as if she had been a mes 
 senger from L Inferno. For an instant no one spoke, and 
 the figure remained motionless as a statue, when her 
 low, clear, peculiar voice uttered, " I interrupt. I am so 
 sorry." 
 
 " Sybil! Miss Visonti," cried host and hostess in a 
 breath. 
 
 "I startled you! Ah! I am used to it. I came a 
 train earlier. I am weary," and sinking into the prof 
 fered chair, she drew Helen down beside her, and covered 
 her with swift, passionate caresses. 
 
 Ralfe shuddered in spite of himself. He felt a sick 
 ening sensation when he saw Helen return those kisses, 
 yet, in an instant he was jealous of her right. The mere 
 hand touch of the Visonti had given him a thrill which 
 ran like electricity through his veins.
 
 32 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PRINCESS. 
 
 " But who is this ? What thing of sea or land ? 
 Female of sex it seems, 
 That so bedeck d, ornate, and gay 
 Comes this way sailing, 
 Like a stately ship 
 Of Tarsus, bound for th isles 
 Of Javan or Gadire, 
 With all her bravery on! " 
 
 Samson Agonistes. 
 
 IN quite a different part of the town was situated an 
 unpretentious little cottage, surrounded by a neat, old- 
 fashioned garden, and only modernized on the outside 
 by a very wide piazza and some bright awnings, which 
 shaded every window, making the house appear like a 
 cluster of striped petunias, or hollyhocks, growing out of 
 a green embankment. Here one morning Sardia found 
 himself in the cosey drawing-room of his friend Madame 
 Menshikoff. It Avas a singular room indeed, and was a 
 startling transition from the simple American gate and 
 macadamized pathway, which led to the entrance of the 
 cottage. The doors were hung with draperies of the 
 finest India shawls, and the walls were faced with the 
 richest stamped leather. Low couches were built along 
 the sides of the room, and were puffed into the easiest 
 possible curves of deep crimson plush, while occasional 
 pillows of Indian embroidery on velvet were carelessly 
 piled together or thrown in a heap on the floor. Rugs
 
 HER SALON 33 
 
 of the whole skins of leopards and the tiger, with the 
 heads and jaws formidably life-like, were stretched in 
 every available spot over the foreign carpet, while won 
 derful Japanese jugs and Chinese bowls, unutterably 
 horrible monstrosities in ceramics, and aesthetically ugly 
 bronzes gave one a sense of being in a curio s sacred 
 salon. An alligator was hung over an archway, and on 
 Madame s table stood a small stuffed baboon, dressed in 
 a tall hat, a "dicky," and a ministerial white tie. Gods 
 in gold, in wood, in ivory ; busts in marble, small figures 
 in wrought silver, rare cabinets and tiny paintings ; every 
 possible implement for smoking, some curious weapons, 
 and a large silver urn hissing over a spirit-lamp made up 
 the paraphernalia of this odd apartment. 
 
 The morning sunshine streamed through a very small 
 window, evidently made of late in the eastern wall. It 
 was circular in shape, rimmed on the inside with an asp 
 carved in cedar, which was swallowing its own tail ; and it 
 was filled with a plate of glass as thick and clear as those 
 in the staterooms of an ocean steamer. All other windows 
 being darkened, this single round ray made a curious 
 illumination, especially when it glanced upon a huge ball 
 of crystal, which Madame Menshikoff was indolently roll 
 ing about the floor. A very small dark dwarf was pla 
 cing the ball over and over again within reach of her foot, 
 so that she might kick it about without rising from the 
 luxurious divan on which she was reclining. Dressed in 
 some strange, gorgeous costume of Eastern manufacture, 
 with a small gold-hilted poniard in his twisted sash, he 
 looked like a tireless little imp. Sardia had assumed 
 a position of utmost ease, and was smoking a Turkish 
 water-pipe with a grace which indicated long usage. 
 
 " Satan ! " exclaimed Madame in a deep, musical basso 
 and with an unmistakably foreign accent. "Cease ! 
 Get mv cigarettes." The little fellow whose name
 
 34 SARDIA: A SToRY OF LOVE 
 
 indeed seemed appropriate presented a bowl of fine 
 tobacco, rice paper, and wax matches. Madame took 
 them and frowned. " Go," said she. An eastern salaam 
 at the doorway was unheeded by both Sardia and 
 the Princess. 
 
 " Do you never allow him to speak ? " asked he, 
 lazily. 
 
 "Ptsh ! his tongue is slit." 
 
 " Indeed ! " still lazily. " Did you do it ? " 
 
 " Had it not been done I should not have chosen him. 
 It is inconvenient to have slaves who speak." 
 
 "Slaves! Hush, Madame. This is America. Slaves? 
 Why, no, of course not ! An adopted son only ! " 
 
 Madame laughed. 
 
 " Not so bad, Sardia," said she, " not so bad. Come ! 
 talk ! Whom do you know here ? Who am I to know ? 
 What amusement do you provide for me ? Any fine 
 women ? Men, faugh ! What women, eh ? " 
 
 "Perhaps I intend you to amuse them." 
 
 " Oh ! I ? Yes-s-s. I shall amuse them. But I 
 study, I study, I study them, my great lord." And she 
 puffed round and oval rings from her mouth. 
 
 " How long do you remain in this country now, 
 Princess ? " 
 
 "Ah, let me see! Two, three, four months and four 
 days and four hours ! That ends my probation. I am 
 then a citizen of America. No more passports, no more 
 recalls to St. Petersburg, no more persecution, political 
 or religious ! I am then no longer cosmopolitan ! I 
 answer no more in French, in Italian, in Hungarian. 
 I swear no more in Russian. Ah, my native fine Russia, 
 my hated, wide, horrible Russia, then I shall be no 
 longer a Russian, I shall be an American, so ! " 
 
 And with a tempestuous grace she rose and flung her 
 arms wide in defiance. She was dressed in a loose,
 
 RIVALS 35 
 
 flowing costume of black, lined with vivid scarlet. It 
 resembled the Grecian himation, and was exquisitely 
 expressive of her angry mood. Her arms gleamed 
 through a silk gauze network which covered them to 
 the wrist and fitted like a glove. Her feet were in 
 loose Eastern sandals. 
 
 "Do you forfeit your title, Princess?" inquired her 
 guest, watching her gestures with a softly amused 
 smile. 
 
 "Speak not of it. I renounce it. La, let s smoke." 
 And suddenly dropping upon her couch, she hid her 
 face with a gray cloud. When it emerged it was 
 serenity itself. 
 
 Observing this Sardia said quietly, "There are two 
 women. I will bring them to you, and I would like you 
 to go to them." 
 
 "I never go," said Madame briefly. 
 
 "I know, my royal mistress. But perhaps you will 
 feel inclined, who knows ? " 
 
 " Well ? " impatiently. 
 
 "They are quite opposite in style. One is Ameri 
 can, the other Italian. The American is a blonde, the 
 Italian " - 
 
 " Yes, yes, dark as Erebus of course. Well ? " 
 
 "They are" he hesitated a moment and then said 
 in a low, significant tone, " rivals." 
 
 " A married man ? " 
 
 " Always suspicious, Madame," Sardia laughed indul 
 gently. " Yes, you are right. The Italian loves the 
 husband of the American, and the American " 
 
 " Loves you ? " 
 
 "No," said he gravely, growing a shade paler, "she 
 loves her husband." 
 
 "Ah, I see. It is plain. You wish the Italian to 
 succeed. You wish her to win the husband away. You
 
 36 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 wish a clear field. You are a rival ! You will win the 
 blonde American, ah, yes, my fine, my fine lord." 
 
 "Madame, you mistake," said Sardia slowly, rising 
 and standing before her and looking down with a rare, 
 deep smile. " You mistake. I desire the wife to win. 
 I desire the Italian to be beaten. I wish the American 
 to be happy." His voice grew exquisitely sad and 
 tender. 
 
 " Come here. Show me your eyes. There ! Sit 
 down again. You love this American, and you love 
 her so well that you will abnegate yourself and help 
 her to win whom she loves. Sardia, you are noble, true ! 
 I desire to adore your spirit." And she bowed until 
 she touched the hem of his garment. Tears were in 
 her light blue eyes when she raised her head, and her 
 large expressive mouth was slightly trembling. 
 
 " friend, companion ! " she cried. " Come back 
 to India ! Come to India with me, and find repose ! 
 Come away from this cold, new, crude land where every 
 one pushes and hurries, where money is the soul and 
 show the heart ! where the cities are poisonous, putrid 
 with the immoral exhalation of so large a crowd of 
 mixed people. Come where there is no mental malaria 
 and the astral body is free ; where the soul may medi 
 tate until it becomes one with and absorbed in Nirvana ! 
 India, land of my love and my adoption ! win this 
 great heart to be one with thy greatness ! " 
 
 She clasped her hands, and turned fervently to the 
 east. 
 
 Silence unbroken prevailed for a moment, then, " The 
 time is not yet," said Sardia, in a low tone. "Is there 
 no greater mission than seeking the repose of one s own 
 soul ? May I not in this very place find a higher work ? 
 Let me make this good, sweet woman happy. Perhaps 
 then I will go."
 
 MADAME S ENGLISH 37 
 
 Madame again became serene. 
 
 "Bring both," said she. "Bring a party. I will give 
 them Russian tea and Indian religion, judiciously mixed. 
 Oh ! I will shock them, and I will study them ! I will 
 chill them with a whiff of Siberia, and melt them with 
 the sun of Bombay ! I shall laugh in my what do 
 you say ? laugh in my slipper ! " 
 
 Sardia ha-ha d out loud. 
 
 " It is in one s sleeve, " he said. " Ah, Madame, 
 you know English remarkably well, but not the phrases 
 yet ! You are correct, bookish, in fact. There is 
 hardly a scholar in the country who can equal your 
 elegance of speech when you choose." He smiled 
 pleasantly. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know," she answered impatiently ; " but 
 your accent. I cannot get it. Yet I know phrases ! 
 I know many good phrases. Listen. You are a brick. 
 1 You are boss. You are a bully boy. There ! " 
 
 Sardia actually roared. 
 
 " For heaven s sake, Madame, where did you pick up 
 that slang ? It is too ridiculous." 
 
 "I studied, sir. I study everything. Thus do we 
 advance towards perfection. I heard the Americans 
 themselves in the street. Do not tell me that I do 
 not know phrases. I know I can say Damn. " 
 
 She was perfectly grave and very much in earnest. 
 Sardia laughed and laughed. 
 
 " You are incorrigible, Madame ! But the morning is 
 going, and I am to take a sea-bath. You will not bathe ? 
 It is not so very cold ! And when shall I bring some 
 people to amuse you ? When shall it be ? " 
 
 " Ah, any time, any evening. I have a few friends here. 
 My pupil is here ! I have my little levee as I did in 
 New York. There will always be tea and cigarettes and 
 always talk, talk." She called " Satan ! " and began to
 
 38 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 search with intense impatience among papers, bric-a-brac, 
 books, ash-holders, pens, pencils, and a thousand trifles 
 on her table. " Oh, I am dying, dying ! My last rice 
 paper is gone. Satan ! Imp ! Evil one ! Come, come ! I 
 am dying. I have no cigarette ! I am dead ! " 
 
 Sardia left her in this whirl of heart-rending emotion, 
 merely saying to the dwarf in Hindostanee, "Bring the 
 death-robe, Sirrah ! "
 
 BEGINNING OF THE BATTLE 39 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BATTLE BEGINS. 
 
 " Imagination bodies forth 
 The forms of things unknown." 
 
 Midsummer Night s Dream. 
 
 DINNER at " Spray View," as Helen had named the 
 villa, was particularly gay that evening. The weather 
 which had been intolerably warm had yielded to a brisk 
 sea-breeze, and every one seemed exhilarated in conse 
 quence. Sardia was thrilled to the soul with the beauty 
 of Helen as she stood for a moment at the end of the 
 table before taking her seat. The rich glitter of crystal, 
 silver, flowers, and mellow light about her ; the back 
 ground of deep plum hangings and the delicate costumes 
 of her guests but added to that unspeakable grace and love^ 
 liness which was as if an aiigel soul had blossomed into 
 human form. As he glanced from her to her husband, 
 who was moodily seeking the Visonti with jealous eyes, 
 he felt a sudden indignation burn in his heart with such 
 ardor that for a moment he would have been pleased to 
 cry out " Fool ! " and strike his host and friend with a 
 blow of punishment and awakening. He seated Sybil, 
 however, with his accustomed graceful suavity, and en 
 grossed her in a conversation which won her keenest 
 attention. " The world is gradually approaching real 
 ism," he was saying, " but so slowly and by such transi 
 tional stages that people do not realize it. A great many 
 things that once would shock polite society are now
 
 40 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 allowed, not as in the Court of Charles II., from a spirit 
 of sensualism and of bad morals, but from an appreciation 
 of false shame and a nearness to Nature s naked 
 truths." 
 
 " What are bad morals ? " asked the Visonti in a low, 
 curiously confidential tone, lifting a glass of Sauterne 
 in a slow undulating curve to her lips. " What are bad 
 morals ? " she repeated, while her dark eyes sought his 
 own with a significant meaning. 
 
 " Abnormalism," said he pointedly. " Depravity for 
 its own sake ; methodical sensualism ; in women, the 
 gratification of vanity through lying illusions ; in men, 
 the subjection of his infinite powers to the winning the 
 bliss of a moment, or the bending them to the service of 
 an ignoble ambition." 
 
 " The bliss of a single moment may be worth a life 
 time ! " she murmured, and drooped the long silken 
 lashes over her marvellous eyes. " I do not believe in 
 keeping one earthly law," she added, looking straight 
 before her, with a hard, determined line growing about 
 her voluptuous mouth. 
 
 " There are divine laws," Sardia returned coldly. 
 
 " How do you know ? " defiantly. 
 
 "If you do not," he answered quietly, "let me take 
 you, sometime, to a certain quarter of New York, where 
 you will see the results of breaking them. I can show 
 you such sights as will make you admit that the physical 
 laws are divine ; divine in their inevitable, inexorable, 
 eternal punishments, if nothing more. And I fancy 
 the moral and the intellectual laws are based on the 
 physical." 
 
 Sybil slightly shuddered. She glanced about the ele 
 gant apartment ; saw the smiling, happy guests, heard 
 the soft intoning of their varied conversation. She sank 
 more comfortably into her chair, sipped her wine luxu-
 
 WOUNDED 41 
 
 riously, and turning softly to Sardia, murmured, 
 " Society demands convention. It pays ! " 
 
 He turned away from her for a moment to hide the 
 infinite disgust which he felt. Why should he argue 
 with her ? Why should he try to lift this woman from 
 her self-desired laxness ? " Did you ever experience for 
 a second," he finally said, " the serene, sublime glow, the 
 adornment, the refinement, the enchantment of fancy, 
 which for just one moment endowed in your mind some 
 being with perfection ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," she replied breathlessly, her bosom heav 
 ing with a sudden ecstasy of reminiscence. 
 
 " And did you not feel pure, good, exalted ? " 
 
 A soft, womanly look transformed her face into a finer 
 beauty. 
 
 " True," she said simply. 
 
 " Shall you so endow any human being again ? " He 
 looked at her with eyes filled with a certain earnest pity. 
 
 " Never ! " she exclaimed scornfully. 
 
 " So it is, you see. There are divine laws. The deli 
 cacy, the purity, the honor, the glory of divine perfec 
 tions which you believed in, were stripped away. By 
 not believing in keeping one earthly law, the law of your 
 soul was cheated ! In one transient emotion all vanished, 
 and what remains but satiated appetite and palled 
 senses? " 
 
 " Hatred," said she. " A grand, general hatred. A 
 hate of myself, of you, of all the world ! " 
 
 " And you ask me what are bad morals ! " with a cyni 
 cal smile. " Would it not be wise to ask yourself ? " 
 
 " What do you know of me ? " asked Sybil suddenly, 
 with a new suspicion darkening her face. " How do 
 you judge that life palls on me ? Are we not strangers ? 
 Did you ever see me before we met here ? " 
 
 " World-weary women may preserve their loveliness
 
 42 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 intact ; their grace unaltered, their fascinations unchanged 
 for years, but they cannot conceal the inevitable conse 
 quences of experience. Miss Yisonti, a little child might 
 read you." 
 
 She turned a yellow, ashy gray. Every vestige of 
 color left her lips. Her very eyes seemed to fade into 
 horrified paleness. Under the table one hand clinched 
 itself so tightly that a tiny drop of blood stood in the 
 palm when she took up the tapering stem of her glass. 
 
 "Allow me," said he, courteously presenting a napkin. 
 " You have wounded yourself." 
 
 "With a world of hatred in her low, expressive voice, 
 she answered, 
 
 " The edge of the glass is broken." 
 
 "But it still holds excellent wine," said he lightly. 
 
 At this moment, Lu, whose cheeks were like roses and 
 whose eyes were like stars, broke out impatiently with 
 an annoyed exclamation. She had hurried down at the 
 last moment to be surprised by finding Charlie Vane 
 waiting to escort her to her chair. The chat seemed to 
 be a little less general than usual. Guy was in earnest 
 conversation with Helen. In his frank, open way he 
 felt an affectionate interest in all her projects and ideas, 
 and she often found him a help and encouragement in 
 many of the perplexities natural to her position. Beside 
 him was seated a gentleman whom she had never before 
 seen. Presented as Signor Zante, his venerable appear 
 ance and distinguished air of somewhat old-school polite 
 ness instantly won her confidence. But as she noted 
 this complete absorption in each other that seemed to 
 prevail around the table, she exclaimed, breaking into 
 one of her own sweet rollicking ripples, 
 
 " A real country picnic ! Everybody in pairs ! or, 
 a Noah s ark, two by two ! " 
 
 There was a general start at this sally, and Guy, with a
 
 HASHISH 43 
 
 comprehensive glance at the gentlemen aud a sudden 
 memory for Shakespeare, quoted, 
 
 " Masters, spread yourselves ! 
 
 " Yes, tell us some way to amuse ourselves. dear ! " 
 she moaned, with a long, comical sigh. " I m tired of 
 doing things over and over ; let s get up something new. 
 I have waltzed, boated, driven, ridden horseback, lis 
 tened to those tiresome lectures at the Casino, eaten car 
 amels, read novels, and flirted until I am absolutely worn 
 out for something to do. Sir Sardia, can t you suggest 
 something besides sailing, lawn tennis, and archery ? Bil 
 liards and pool are antique, and I don t suppose it would 
 do to gamble, would it ? " dubiously. " I caught my 
 maid with seven lottery tickets in her apron pocket this 
 morning, so it would be low-tone to suggest those. 
 What shall we do this evening, Helen ? Say, Mr. Field 
 ing somebody, tell us what to do ! " 
 
 " I suggest hashish," said Charlie Vane. 
 
 Every one looked surprised. " Why, Charlie," ex 
 claimed Guy, " do you know anything about it ? Did 
 you ever eat any ? " 
 
 Charlie looked annoyed. "Why should I not know 
 about it as well as any one ? " said he. 
 
 " Well, do you ? " cried Lulu, greatly excited. " Tell 
 us about it ! Is it like what is described in Monte 
 Christo ? Oh, let s have a hashish party ! Wouldn t 
 it be glorious ! " 
 
 "While I was in Paris half a dozen of us students 
 made up a party to test the effects of this drug. Three 
 were to take it, and three were to take care of them. I 
 was one of those who took it, and I assure you I have 
 never regretted it." 
 
 " What was it like ? Can you remember your sensa 
 tions ? Was it horrible or delicious ? " was chorused 
 eagerly.
 
 44 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " Ah, there I am at fault," aid Charlie disconsolately. 
 It is a confused jumble of delights, fears, surprises, 
 agonies, and ecstasies, in my mind." 
 
 " I have eaten it not oace, but many times," interposed 
 Signor Zante. " I presume Mr. Vane would remember 
 more distinctly the second time." He spoke with a 
 strong accent, but with perfect understanding of the 
 language. 
 
 " Will you not describe it ? " said Helen, turning to 
 her new guest with a singular graciousness of manner. 
 
 " Madame honors me," he said, rising from his chair, 
 and bowing with reverential homage. 
 
 As he continued standing for an instant, Ralfe also 
 rose and said inquiringly, " Are we finished ? Shall we 
 go with the ladies, or shall we all remain here ? " 
 
 Every one rose with alacrity. " Quite finished." " To 
 the drawing-room, by all means," they assented. 
 
 Helen ordered the coffee to be served in the smoking- 
 room, and, putting her arm about Lu, said, " Gentle 
 men, you shall not be deprived of your cigars. We will 
 be Bohemians, and join you in the smoking-room." It 
 was a luxuriously furnished apartment, with a large 
 skylight of tinted glass in the ceiling. This was open, 
 and the numerous windows, reaching to the floor, gave it 
 almost the semblance of an arbor. Soft couches and 
 lounging chairs were scattered about, and these were 
 soon occupied by the interested group who listened to 
 the quaint accented syllables of Signor Zante. 
 
 " If you know how to use it, it is not dangerous and 
 leaves no bad effect. The first idea you have is that you 
 are dying. Xo one could convince you of the contrary. 
 This passes away, and you then begin to have the most 
 remarkable consciousness of the duality of your being. 
 Indeed, I think there may be given to a person no more 
 striking or convincing proof of the immortality of the
 
 GORGEOUS SCENES 45 
 
 soul than a trial with hashish. You know you have a 
 body, but you do not feel that you are in it. You are 
 conscious of all your acts in the body, but yourself 
 appears to be disinthralled, separate, and individual. 
 All things look at great distances. It is as if you were 
 looking through the large end of an opera-glass. If it is 
 night, and you look above and see the moon, you feel 
 that you have watched the grand procession of the ages 
 go by while she passes through a tiny cloud. Everything 
 seems infinitely stretched out. Sounds seem years in 
 arriving. You can see words come solidly from the 
 mouths of persons speaking. They float towards you 
 like a ribbon waving and waving for years before you 
 catch the sound, and yet you get it and answer it in the 
 ordinary length of time, and none could perceive that 
 anything was the matter with you." 
 
 " How remarkable ! How wonderful ! Dumas de 
 scribes everything as assuming beautiful forms and 
 colors," remarked some one. 
 
 " Yes, the skies appear living sapphires ; grass, emer 
 alds ; every glitter of sunlight, diamonds. All things 
 become superb, endowed with new colors, magnificence 
 of texture and loveliness of contour, or they are grotesque 
 and comical, or as horrifying as it is possible to conceive. 
 Whatever it may be, it is wonderfully exaggerated. In 
 deed," he added, smiling a little amusedly, " when I have 
 listened to some of the tales of fishermen and sports 
 men in this country, I have often made up my mind that 
 they were told under the influence." 
 
 Every one laughed at this little hit, while Guy lazily 
 murmured, " He knows our weak points, Ralfe." For 
 Ealfe had gravely declared that morning that when fish 
 ing down in Maine, he had drawn in one hundred and 
 two mackerel in thirty minutes, over which he had been 
 very much chaffed.
 
 46 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " If you really seat yourself in an omnibus," con 
 tinued Signer Zante, "you believe you are flying at a 
 most fearful rate of speed." 
 
 " Impossible ! That is really too much !" laughed Lu. 
 
 " You fancy you are tearing through dense crowds of 
 elegant equipages," serenely pursued the signer, " drivers 
 and footmen in embroidered liveries, jewelled harnesses, 
 velvet robes, prancing steeds, rare women everything 
 that a vivid imagination can conjure up, always taking 
 the real object in view for a basis on which to build. 
 There is nothing that fairyland can boast which this drug 
 will not produce for your entertainment ; and the best 
 of it all is that you can almost invariably distinctly re 
 member the experience afterwards and enjoy it over and 
 over again." 
 
 " How much do you take ? What is it like ? " asked 
 Lulu, excitedly. " Can we get it this side of Xew York, 
 do you suppose ? " appealing to Ralfe, who had listened 
 to this narration with considerable interest. 
 
 " I fear not," said he ; " but we can try. It is a dark 
 greenish paste, and comes prepared in porcelain boxes, 
 I think." 
 
 " I have some," said Sardia quietly. " Who wishes to 
 try it ? " 
 
 " Sybil will, won t you ? " cried Lulu, at the same time 
 aching to be invited herself. 
 
 Ralfe bent over Sybil for the first time that evening, 
 and said in a low, passionate whisper, " Will you oblige 
 me ? " 
 
 She returned the glance with one which burned like a 
 smouldering fire. Something subtly magnetic seemed to 
 draw him to her, heart to heart. It was fortunate that 
 the chatter of the others hid the intense longing of his 
 voice, as he almost caressed her with the word " Darling ! " 
 She was lying back in a long movable chair, and was the
 
 A SLIGHT DEFEAT 47 
 
 picture of sinuous, flowing, voluptuous abandon. The 
 only counteracting element of the effect was her dress, 
 which was of sombre black lace and satin ; her fine arms 
 and bust only lightly covered with the meshes of woven 
 jet, which gleamed and sparkled from the tip of her satin 
 boot to the crown of her ebon locks. She was about to 
 answer, " Yes ! " in a voice as meaningful as his own, 
 when Helen touched Ralfe on the shoulder, saying, " Are 
 you willing I should try it ? " 
 
 Her fair sweet face looked at him with a certain defer 
 ential trust, a confidence which stung his conscience as 
 nothing else at that moment could have done. He 
 answered her with more gentleness than usual, " Why, 
 Helen, does it depend on me ? Am I willing ? Surely, 
 you will do as you please." A shadow rested on her 
 face as she turned away. He followed her and said, " I 
 assure you there is nothing harmful in it. You will 
 probably only be a little exhilarated." 
 
 " But, if I should," she hesitated, looking into his 
 face with the first look of dependence upon him that she 
 had ever shown. It touched his manly sense of protec 
 tion to the quick. 
 
 " Fear nothing," said he ; "I will guard you." And 
 as they entered the group who were gathered about 
 Sardia, who had brought from his room a box of little 
 pellets covered with capsules, he forgot for a moment 
 the beautiful woman, who, still reclining in an attitude 
 of luxurious ease, was biting her scarlet lips with rage.
 
 48 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHICH WROTE IT ? 
 
 " I have an exposition of sleep come upon me." 
 
 Midsummer Night s Dream. 
 
 SARDIA approached the Visonti with his most gracious 
 air. It was impossible to resist that sweet imperious- 
 ness of manner, which he assumed when he chose. 
 The irrevocable will behind the fastidious indolence ; 
 the unswerving purpose, hidden by the careless cyni 
 cism ; the supreme patience which lay beneath the 
 elegant exterior of his courtly presence, could make 
 themselves felt and obeyed by the simple raising of his 
 golden eyebrows, the velvet pressure of his white, relent 
 less hand. 
 
 The contrast between the reclining woman and the 
 man who bent smilingly over her was almost startling. 
 She, dark, dark even to the shading of the little hands, 
 the curves of the neck, the rounded contours of the ears 
 and well-shaped nostrils ; dark with a clear, rich, tropic 
 darkness, through which the thick blood of a Southern 
 climate ran riotously ; the visible exponent of emotion 
 in all its passionate luxuriance, in all its deadly unscru- 
 pulousness ; he fair, calm, and stately, the tawny mane 
 covering his massive head in heavy matted curls, cropped 
 ruthlessly short ; the steel-blue eyes cool, unfaltering, 
 unabashed, indicative of a reposeful intellectuality, a 
 rigid self-discipline, and a rare severity of honor. 
 
 His voice was very softly distinct as he said, "Miss
 
 SIGNOR ZANTE CONVERSES 49 
 
 Visonti will take this. Allow me." And as the scarlet 
 lips opened to receive it, he dropped the little pellet into 
 her mouth. "Pleasant dreams !" said he. Then hand 
 ing one to Balfe, he said laughingly, " Here is a pearl of 
 price for the modern Helen." And left her husband to 
 do the pretty duty which he would have given a year of 
 his life to have performed. 
 
 " And mine ! " cried Lulu. " Am I not to have one ? 
 Are not the gentlemen to take any ? " 
 
 "Please don t," whispered Guy anxiously. "You are 
 so excitable, pet, and please don t, for my sake ! " 
 pleadingly. 
 
 " I want to ! " she said, stamping her tiny foot like a 
 spoiled child. 
 
 "But you Avill not know how the others act if you 
 do," he said slyly. " I should think you had rather 
 watch them, the first time." 
 
 " Why, I should, come to think of it," she answered 
 good-humoredly. " I really think it would be better 
 fun." 
 
 " It would be useless for me to take it," said Signor 
 Zante, on Kalfe s invitation, " I have taken it so much." 
 And the others seemed for various reasons equally dis 
 inclined. 
 
 " Are we to remain breathless with suspense, and sing 
 hymns and the Sweet by and by, as they do at spirit 
 ual seances ? " whispered Lulu in an awed manner, as a 
 silence for a moment fell on the little company. Her 
 eyes were as round as saucers, and her pretty baby-mouth 
 tremulous with mock-dread. Every one laughed and 
 chaffed her until she sought refuge behind Helen s 
 shoulder. 
 
 " There will be no effect for some time," said Signor 
 Zante. " It will be wisest to pay no attention to the 
 ladies." And with a smile he turned to his hostess and 
 began to leisurely converse.
 
 50 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOYE 
 
 " You said you were a pupil," said she ; ll but I did 
 not catch the idea of what art. Shall I intrude if I 
 inquire ? Sir Sardia has frequently mentioned your name 
 in connection with the Princess Menshikoff. What a 
 remarkable writer she is ! Can it be true that she is so 
 young ? " 
 
 " Madame must pardon me," he replied with a smile ; 
 " but she seems to ask so many little questions ! She is 
 from New England, I fancy." 
 
 "Yes, indeed," returned Helen with genuine amuse 
 ment. "I am a Yankee born and bred! That is the 
 secret of the questioning." 
 
 Certainly, I shall name you the art with pleasure. 
 It is the divine art of reaching Nirvana. I am a pupil 
 of the Princess Menshikoff in the principles of the 
 Buddhistic religion. I seek to become an adept. I must 
 smile, however, when you ask if my master be young. 
 She is more than seventy years old. Why, Madame, I 
 am sixty myself." 
 
 "But Sardia says she is vivacious, youthful, gay, 
 impulsive ! He describes her as a woman of thirty or 
 thirty-five," exclaimed Helen in astonishment. 
 
 " She certainly appears no older than that," said Signor 
 Zante; "yet I believe her statement nevertheless. But 
 you must see her ! " 
 
 " Is she in this country ? " asked Helen in surprise. 
 " Sir Sardia has not mentioned it." 
 
 "No, I presume not. For the present she desired 
 repose. But, yes ; she is here in this very place, 
 although she has been established but a few days. She 
 will spend the season if she is not too much besieged ! " 
 and he smiled as if in reminiscence. 
 
 Helen began to look about her in a singular manner. 
 Her beautiful eyes looked more radiant, her lips took on 
 a soft entranced smile. Her body assumed a pose so
 
 THE VISONTI DREAMS 51 
 
 eager, yet so subdued in its eagerness that she seemed 
 like a bird on the spray, just balancing itself for flight. 
 "What delicious music," she murmured ; "you hear it 
 of course ? " 
 
 " Yes, Madame," assented Signor Zante, who under 
 stood her delusion. 
 
 " Why, it is your voice ! " she exclaimed delightedly. 
 "And now all the voices; they are seraphic. What a 
 chorus ! How divine the organ tones, how exquisitely 
 mellow the horns ! " 
 
 She seemed wrapped in an ecstasy of sound, her 
 whole being suffused with a flood of music. 
 
 Ilalfe, who had been anxiously awaiting some signs 
 of the potent drug in Miss Visonti, now turned to his 
 wife and remained motionless with genuine admiration. 
 " Sappho listening to the sea," he murmured to himself. 
 The others suddenly realizing that Helen was affected, 
 looked at her with love, wonder and delight. Sardia 
 felt so deep, so terrible an agony in his heart that he 
 became suddenly faint and leaned against the window. 
 "Never to be mine, never to be mine," his mind kept 
 idly going round and round. " Dear, true angel-woman, 
 and never to be mine ! " He roused himself by an 
 intense effort of will, thinking, "I must be brave." 
 " And Miss Visonti ? " he asked, directing the attention 
 of all but Ealf e to the other " patient." 
 
 She was evidently sound asleep. Her sleep grew 
 deeper even as they looked. Her countenance assumed 
 a new expression. All the glow, the enthusiasm, the 
 glamour with which she enchanted her adorers faded 
 out. A cold, hard, malicious sneer tightened the upper 
 lip ; the under lip hung loosely down and rolled outward 
 with so animal a look that Lulu in innocent disgust 
 turned away with a shudder. She sought Helen, and 
 Ealfe followed the others who gazed at the Visonti 
 with varying emotions.
 
 52 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " What is it ? " he asked anxiously, regardless of the 
 tenderness of the accent in which he said it. Stepping 
 close to the chair he looked squarely in the face the 
 woman who enchained him. " My God ! " he said. 
 
 Guy broke the embarrassing silence with his hearty 
 laugh. " Well," he cried, " it is pleasant dreams indeed 
 with her, Sardia ! How differently hashish affects 
 people ! What a pity it did not awaken her to the 
 height of improvisation ! Don t you remember, Ealfe, 
 that evening in Paris when she improvised so beauti 
 fully ? She has the true Italian talent," turning to the 
 others Avho were occupied in watching first one and 
 then the other, and commenting on the possibilities of 
 the thus vivified imagination ; " I may call such a song 
 as she sang a production of genius ! Don t you remem 
 ber it, Ealfe ? How did it go ? " 
 
 Ralfe said slowly, " Of course I remember it. I could 
 never forget so exquisite a thing. She sat at the piano 
 and laughingly declared that she was an improvvisatrice. 
 We urged her to favor us, and after some demur, with 
 a very little thought she sang this : 
 
 " Oh, life is such a little part 
 To the great love within my heart; 
 For free as air my spirit seems, 
 If she but visit me in dreams. 
 Time rules not and old Death is weak, 
 When I can hear my dear one speak; " 
 
 "Yes, yes," interrupted Helen, coming forward and 
 joining him. " And blue and deep as are the skies. 
 Yes, I wrote it when I was in the Convent. Come, I 
 will sing it to you. I have rny old book yet." With 
 a step as light as air and a smile as one inspired, she 
 led the way into the drawing-room, and with very little 
 trouble, hunting among her music-books, she found a 
 little volume of manuscript music. Hurriedly running
 
 HELEN S SONG 53 
 
 over the pages she exclaimed like a pleased child, "Here 
 it is ! " and immediately striking a few rich chords, 
 sang in a clear resonant contralto : 
 
 " Oh, life is such a little part 
 To the great love within my heart; 
 For free as air my spirit seems, 
 If she hut visit me in dreams ! 
 Time rules not and old Death is weak, 
 When I can hear my dear one speak; 
 And blue and deep as are the skies 
 They cannot match my darling s eyes; 
 Laughter and tears are little worth ; 
 Or blows the wind from south or north, 
 Or goeth friend, or cometh foe, 
 When my own true Love loves me so. 
 
 Then sorrow welcome! joy pass by! 
 For these no care nor thought have I ! 
 When in the garden walks my maid 
 I know not if tis sun or shade. 
 And if she turns and leans to me ; 
 Or if her rosebud mouth I see, 
 Or if her little hand I press, 
 Or feel the motion of her dress, 
 Or looking deep into her soul 
 My image makes of joy the whole, 
 To highest Heaven I would not go, 
 When thus my true Love loves me so ! " 
 
 No one had dreamed of the depth and sweetness of 
 Helen s nature until she had finished her song. There 
 was a hush of genuine emotion pervading every heart. 
 Her whole beautiful soul with its capacity for love 
 seemed opened to their view. They seemed to them 
 selves to be trespassing upon some sacred thing, too 
 delicate and pure for such exposure. 
 
 " It appears that Miss Visonti did not improvise in 
 Paris," remarked Sardia in a dry, cynical voice ; " it was 
 your wife, Ralfe, who was her inspiration."
 
 54 SAEDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Ralfe s natural dignity and reserve now stood him in 
 good stead. He resorted to his favorite phrase, I am 
 charmed." 
 
 Helen had dropped her head on the music-rack of the 
 piano and her eyes had assumed a far-away expression 
 as if she were weary. Signor Zante suggested that she 
 would soon be asleep and perhaps it would be wise for 
 her to retire. Ealfe approached her and said gently, 
 " Will you sleep now ? Let me take you to your room." 
 
 She aroused herself, smiled at him brightly, but looked 
 at Sardia and said, "No, I prefer he should take me," 
 pointing to him in a pretty, pettish manner. " His face 
 is brighter than yours. It is golden. It has an aureola 
 about it," and going to him, she confidingly took his 
 arm. 
 
 All laughed at Ralph s discomfiture. Signor Zante 
 lightly touched Sardia s curls. "A lucky dog to have 
 this nimbus," said he. 
 
 They started into the broad hall and up the stairs, 
 all following and watching Helen curiously, with still 
 a certain awe upon them. The light pressure of her 
 form as she slightly leaned against him made Sardia 
 tremble. Her door which was at the head of the stair 
 case was opened by a maid. He gave Helen into her 
 charge saying, "Your mistress is not quite well, and 
 needs especial care." Giving some brief directions he 
 turned to go, when Helen caught his hands in her own, 
 and glanced at him with a look of admiration. 
 
 " How beautiful you are ! " she said in a soft whisper. 
 
 " Good-night," he answered gently, as he released 
 his hands. But as he went slowly down-stairs, he was 
 very pale. Arriving in the smoking-room he found 
 every one in consternation. Sybil Visonti was gone.
 
 SYBIL S LITTLE DRAMA 55 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 AN ENEMY. 
 
 "She comes unlocked for." 
 
 Pope s Temple of Fame. 
 
 As the guests had passed into the drawing-room, 
 one had inadvertently hit Miss Visonti a soft blow- 
 on the cheek with the drapery of her sleeve. It awak 
 ened Sybil, who remained perfectly quiet and in 
 deed, for a few moments, only half-conscious, while a 
 strange, dull pain throbbed through her temples. She 
 roused herself, however, as the laughing voices came 
 floating to her from beyond. She sat up. All was still 
 in the little smoking-room, silent and deserted. The 
 lights which had been turned down, mingled with the 
 brilliant moon-rays streaming in the broad, low windows ; 
 a soft haze of smoke from the cigars hovered near the 
 ceiling all the place was familiar, yet all seemed 
 strange. " What a dream ! " she whispered with a little 
 shudder. 
 
 At this moment a noiseless servant appeared with the 
 tray of coffee, and the tiny musical tinkle of the china 
 and silver called her back to reality. 
 
 " Give me some," she ordered, somewhat eagerly. 
 "Give it black with no sugar." 
 
 " Milk ? " said the well-trained domestic with a slight 
 shade of surprise in his respectful voice. 
 
 "Milk? No! Am I a child?" 
 
 "You are no babe, miss," acquiesced the man in his
 
 56 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 mind, but his outward gravity was unruffled. He was 
 about to retire when Miss Visonti turned to him, with 
 an imperious air, holding out her cup. 
 
 " Put a tablespoon of cognac in this," said she. 
 
 James silently departed and returned with a decanter 
 sparkling like a jewel. She took it in one dark, dimpled 
 hand and poured into the little cup, half full of coffee, 
 until it touched the brim. 
 
 " Go, now," said she with a smile of condescension. 
 
 " Here s a rum quean," muttered James to himself as 
 he sought his own region. 
 
 The first chords of the piano struck on her ear, but she 
 did not heed them. Picking up a foamy white shawl of 
 floss, which some one had dropped, she flung it over her 
 shoulders and stepped into the garden. " Ralfe will 
 follow and find me. Moonlight and the sea, these are 
 excellent adjuncts. I wish I could always play my little 
 drama in the midst of such well-devised scenery. That 
 was not hashish Sardia gave to me. Sardia ! I could 
 see him in that water yonder and laugh to hear him 
 shriek. He should drown for all me ! Who is he ? 
 What is he ? What does he know ? Ah, he meant I 
 should sleep while his adored Helen should for once be 
 brilliant. To me he gives a sleeping-powder, to her 
 hashish. Well, he shall pay. The moral fool ! telling 
 me of nature s punishments ! It will not be long 
 before I am missed. Kalfe will follow me, and I shall 
 tell him why he was Good Heavens ! " 
 
 She had left the garden which sloped to the sea and 
 entered a path which ran along the edge of the rocky 
 cliff, and her exclamation was one of sudden fright. 
 What seemed to be a large monkey had suddenly scram 
 bled up the rocks and stood like a very little demon in 
 her pathway. His dress was scarlet and gold, his little 
 fez with its tossing tassel, his dark hands and darker
 
 A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT 57 
 
 visage, and a singularly uncouth noise or cry which came 
 from the lower part of the throat, were enough to startle 
 even the Visonti, difficult as it was to shake her steady 
 nerves. 
 
 " Satan ! " exclaimed a voice from the shadow of a 
 rock which hid the speaker, but who now emerged. 
 " Imp ! Why do you frighten the lady out of her 
 senses ? Go to the carriage ! " stamping her foot. 
 "Madame," she said, advancing as swiftly as her un 
 wieldy body permitted, " madame, I am foreign, and that 
 little dwarf there is my servant. I dropped my fan and 
 sent him down over the rocks for it. I beg pardon for 
 his startling you. He is an execrable object ! " She 
 laughed and advanced quite near, and then suddenly 
 grasped Miss Visonti s hand as in a vise. " Ah," said 
 she, " it is as I thought ! " in a clear, bell-like tone. " It 
 is as I thought ! It is you." 
 
 " Princess ! " gasped Sybil. 
 
 " Be silent ! " she thundered. " You never thought to 
 see me again. America is far away from Venice. You 
 wonder how I am here. You will yet learn that I can 
 be anywhere I choose whenever I choose. You think I 
 don t know your design in coming back to your old 
 friends. Let us see. Here is your design, my charming 
 saint. Let me read that cultivated mind of yours ! " 
 and standing directly in front of Sybil whose whole face 
 was illuminated with the moonlight, she said scornfully, 
 " You bear the name of Visonti and wear a beauty of 
 your own ; but your heart is cold, your mind cruel, and 
 your soul stained with a thousand blots ; your aura at 
 this moment is black with a set, malicious purpose. 
 Money, luxury, ease these you must and will have, and 
 to gain them you are here trying to win the love of the 
 husband of the pretty American blonde. La ! It sounds 
 like a little primer lesson of English into French. You
 
 58 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 will steal him and his money away, you think. You 
 mean to work the ruin of a happy family for the sake of 
 gaining a future for the little bambino" 
 
 Sybil interrupted with a cry. She clasped her hands 
 entreatingly. I " Madame, madame ! " she breathed, 
 pleadingly. 
 
 " Ah, ptsh ! never mind. I know it all." 
 
 " Madame," said the Visonti, mortal anguish and fear 
 for once making her truthful, "you do know everything. 
 How many times I have cursed your fatal power ! But 
 do not, do not ! What have I done to you ? What are 
 my secrets to you ? How have I injured you that you 
 must interfere with me so ? Is it womanly, fair, kind, 
 to take advantage of such knowledge as you may have 
 gained ? " 
 
 " Is it womanly, fair, kind, to deliberately break 
 another woman s heart, and that woman your intimate 
 friend for years and your hostess now, while you plot 
 your wicked plots against her happiness ? " 
 
 " Is that any reason why you should play the part of 
 God, and try to regulate the lives of strangers ? " asked 
 the Visonti, growing bolder as they parried. 
 
 " You are not so much a stranger to me as you are to 
 yourself," said the Princess, irrelevantly. 
 
 "I do not understand," said the Visonti coldly, glan 
 cing over the sea and half turning away. 
 
 " Who are you ? " in a most significant tone. 
 
 Sybil faced about. " Of that there can be no doubt," 
 ^aid she proudly. " I am the only Miss Visonti in the 
 world." She said the name Visonti with all the fine 
 imperial pride of one who knew it to be old, great, and 
 stainless. 
 
 " Let the young American woman and her husband 
 alone," said the Princess Menshikoff in a voice like the 
 cutting of a Damascus blade. "There is no Miss 
 Visonti!" and left her.
 
 "NAME FORGOTTEN" 59 
 
 Sybil looked after the thick-set, ungraceful form which 
 slowly approached the open roadway with a dignity of 
 mien from which not even much flesh could detract, and 
 thought of those last words, which, as it were, ignored 
 her and put her out of existence with one stroke, in a 
 maze of fury and wonder. She heard the call for 
 " Satan," the orders to the coachman, and the driving 
 away of the carriage with a strange, creeping sense of 
 physical fear. 
 
 " So she is here," she thought, " and doubtless will 
 have her revenge. Who and what is she ? What may 
 she not do ? Yet she has hitherto been silent. oSTo Miss 
 Visonti ? She is full of mysteries; but what could be 
 more correct ? In what kind of a net am I being 
 caught ? What possible interest can she have in 
 Helen ? I have never heard her name mentioned in 
 America. Why is she here ? " 
 
 She sank down on a rock and looked out over the 
 limitless ocean, with its broad glitter of silver rippling 
 to her very feet. The soft splash of the waves gave her 
 a new sense of quiet. She laid her hot cheek against 
 the cool, rough side of a rock, and then laid her throb 
 bing wrists against it while she drooped her head on her 
 arms. Plash, splash, ripple, recede, advance, came the 
 ever-sobbing monotone and the distant roar, speaking 
 eternally the same deep, wonderful message. 
 
 "Better not to think," she murmured, shudderingly. 
 "Better to live it out from day to day and then sink 
 into the ocean of oblivion. Hate or love, failure or suc 
 cess, what does it matter ? Oh, how weary I am ! how 
 sad I am ! " 
 
 The soft sound of mellow horns and stringed instru 
 ments swiftly seemed to infold her. Over the rumbling 
 base of the sea the most exquisite melody rose above 
 and around her. A large yacht came speeding along
 
 60 SARDIA: A STOEY OF LOVE 
 
 like a beautiful vision. The musicians were ou board, 
 and soon rich male voices were singing that delicious 
 barcarolle : 
 
 " The stars in heaven are glowing, 
 
 The moon her bright face showing, 
 
 But ah ! ray tears are flowing, 
 
 My heart is sad and lone ! 
 
 My heart is sad and lone ! " 
 
 "Yes," she murmured, "my heart is sad and lone. 
 My soul is sad and lone. I feel as if I were the one for 
 gotten thing of all the universe. Home forgotten, love 
 forgotten, God forgotten, "and she adds "name forgotten." 
 
 She shook with a sudden passion of tears. The 
 voices in the yacht grew fainter : 
 
 " Come, then, ah, come thou my own love, come ! " 
 
 She rose and stretched her arms out towards the flying 
 vessel with a gesture of despair. " Yes, you beautiful 
 white-winged thing ! " she cried. " I would I could go 
 with you away anywhere, anywhere into eternal space, 
 darkness, annihilation!" 
 
 " Oh, horrors ! What an awful wish ! " laughed Lulu s 
 innocent and happy voice. " We didn t know but you 
 had eloped or something. I ran ahead of the others, for 
 I was certain you would be down here. Isn t it a per 
 fectly splendid night ? We couldn t find you, you know, 
 in the house, and they took Helen off to bed. We all 
 came out in the garden to search for 3-011. Here they 
 come. Guy, Guy ! I ve found her, wishing herself in 
 perdition ! " and she laughed a merry peal. But she 
 stole her arm in that of Sybil s, and gave it a little 
 squeeze. In spite of her instinctive distrust, she felt a 
 strange attraction towards this beautiful, dark woman, 
 and now was tenderly moved by those tears in the voice 
 which hacl so longed to get "away."
 
 A FALLEN ANGEL 61 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SPIDER SPINS. 
 
 " And out of good still to find means of evil." 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 LULU continued affectionately clasping Miss Visonti s 
 arm until they all reached the house, and after some 
 light chat, when the company dispersed for the night, 
 accepted an invitation to stay a short time in Sybil s 
 chamber before retiring. Nothing had been said of the 
 little revelation which had so unconsciously been made 
 by Helen, of the Visonti s powers of deception. All 
 were too well bred to pain a guest of the same house, 
 and therefore only a general description was given of 
 the "Hashish party," with some discussion as to why 
 the drug had simply put the Visonti to sleep. She 
 betrayed no hint of her belief as to the real cause, save 
 by a sudden glance at Sardia, which might have killed 
 him could it have turned into a dagger, so full of keen, 
 sharp, suspicious hatred it was. But his calm face indi 
 cated no consciousness of the thrust. Ealfe had not fol 
 lowed the party into the garden nor did he appear again. 
 He had retired into the library and swung the door nearly 
 shut after him. They could see a portion of his figure 
 seated at his desk, as they went up-stairs. Serenely 
 unconscious then of anything in her disfavor, Sybil 
 welcomed Lu to an easy-chair in her richly furnished 
 bedroom and proceeded to make her guest " perfectly 
 at home." That she was an artist cannot be gainsaid.
 
 62 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Not a person in the world was too insignificant for her 
 to regard with some slight thoughtfulness. Each human 
 being represented to her a tool, a lover, or an enemy. 
 She intended to make the whole world serve her. What 
 ever goodness she possessed only tended to make her 
 more dangerous, since it cast aside by some unlooked-for 
 act, the suspicion which her subtlety had aroused. Cul 
 tured she certainly was, and to an accurate taste in art and 
 literature she added an acute appreciation of nature and 
 a sufficient idea of science to fascinate men of all grades 
 and interest even envious women. With these she pos 
 sessed that infinite grace of movement, that caressing 
 manner, that honey sweet voice, which is perilously 
 entrancing to even the soberest minds. Intellectually 
 and physically the exponent of a fine civilization, she 
 was morally a barbarian. While smiling a seraph smile 
 she was perfectly cold at heart, and as calmly plotful as 
 Machiavelli. 
 
 " You will not mind my removing this heavy dress ? " 
 she now queried of pretty rosebud Lu, who was looking 
 at her with a soft, captivated gaze. 
 
 Something in her tone produced an odd effect upon 
 Lulu. Her cheeks drew to themselves an even brighter 
 color. A certain unnatural light came into her eyes. 
 She seemed to anticipate something, she knew not what. 
 
 " I shall be glad," she said breathlessly. 
 
 Miss Yisonti s face became a study. What was that 
 subtle triumph, that gratified vanity, that sense of power, 
 which made her even more alluring ? Like a fallen 
 angel who smiles at the possibility of enticing an inno. 
 cent mortal to his own low estate, Sybil for an instant 
 showed a gleam of fiendish satisfaction. " They shall 
 all be like me if I can make them so," she thought, " I 
 will teach this silly child a few ideas." She slowly 
 drew off one garment and then another, talking the
 
 THAT BEWITCHING CURVE 63 
 
 while in a low, vibrant tone which seemed to thrill her 
 listener like a draught of wine. 
 
 " How can you be so graceful ? " asked Lulu presently, 
 as Sybil draped about her a light, large shawl, of crepe 
 du chine which clung to the voluptuous figure as if in 
 love with it and seemed to caress with its soft folds the 
 person it but half concealed. 
 
 " Ah, that is taught in Paris, and I was long a pupil 
 of the greatest master of expression in the world ! 
 Alas, that America should never have so exquisite an 
 art taught to every one who has an appreciation of 
 beauty ! " 
 
 " Why, we have schools in which pupils are prepared 
 for the stage ! " exclaimed Lu in surprise. " Didn t you 
 know it ? " 
 
 " Yes, but how ! " impatiently. " They are taught the 
 mere rudiments. Can they do this ? " And suddenly 
 with a grace which seemed marvellous, she raised her 
 arm and described an undulating curve. 
 
 It was silent music. There was something in that 
 delicious curve which touched Lulu s sensuous nature to 
 the core. Her imagination ran riot, and seemed to see it 
 in a thousand different forms, colors, and materials. 
 
 " Ah, you see ! even ungainly and disagreeable objects 
 in themselves will become beautiful and harmonious 
 when that curve runs through them : they become satis 
 factory to mind and soul. How much more lovely then 
 would a lovely woman become if she could know the 
 delicacies of gesture ! " And she bent over Lulu with a 
 dazzling smile. " Why, with that curve in my posses 
 sion to use as I will," she went on, " with the grace that 
 undulating line can give my body, I will yet become 
 rich, famous, beloved ! I make every whit of my body 
 serve me for my pleasure," she added significantly. 
 
 " There must be some rules by which one could learn/ 
 said Lulu thoughtfully.
 
 64 SARDIA: A STOBY OF LOVE 
 
 " Certainly. They are the law of rhythm and the law 
 of opposites. The law of rhythm is the making of ges 
 ture at the exact instant and to the exact time of the 
 words. As the language grows more impassioned, the 
 delivery quicker, the movement of the body, the sway 
 of the limbs, the play of the features, the rapidity 
 of the changes must be in harmony, or that magnetic 
 power which springs from an appreciation of beauty in 
 the audience is lost. The law of opposition is that when 
 one hand moves to the right the other should move to 
 the left. Keep your balance is one of the maxims." 
 
 " Oh, do something more ! " said Lu curiously. 
 
 Sybil stood perfectly erect, the drapery of fleecy silk 
 carelessly wound about her. Slowly, with a sinuous, 
 gentle movement, she made Lulu aware that she was 
 happy in a quiet, pensive way ; then she became mirth 
 ful, then joyous, then radiantly glad, and finally passion 
 ately blissful ; growing thoughtful, doubtful, suspicious, 
 jealous, angry, and, at last, raving mad, in a series of 
 gestures and expressions of the face which so flowed into 
 each other, yet kept their individuality, that the whole 
 seemed like an acted poem ; its feeling, rhyme, music, 
 rhythm, cadence, and harmony being made literally vis 
 ible in this magnificent woman s person. 
 
 " It is wonderful," breathed Lu in astonished admira 
 tion. " No wonder you can make any one love you whom 
 you please." 
 
 " And do you love me, little one ? " approaching so 
 swiftly that the shawl became entangled about her 
 feet. 
 
 Lulu turned her head away and did not answer. 
 
 "When I let my draperies go," Sybil remarked 
 coolly, gathering up the tissue and knotting it about 
 her waist, without noticing Lulu s averted head, " I 
 always think of that charming poem of Hero and
 
 TEMPTED 65 
 
 Leander, so admirably put into verse by Arnold. Do 
 you remember the bridal scene ? You know the line : 
 
 " "With that soft leave he loosed her virgin zone ! " 
 
 She had hoped to awaken another response than Lulu s 
 " Yes, I read it with my mother. I remember how beauti 
 fully she spoke of it and how delicately. She said, 
 You will understand, dear, how this utterly transcen 
 dent whiteness of passion exceeds all the lotus buds, 
 champak, and melting music of the " Song uf Songs," 
 ravishing though they be. The scene is Greek, just 
 like a statue. It is strong, clean and classic. My child, 
 when you are older, you will know it is a beautiful thing 
 to feel that some time, some where, nature culminates in 
 purity when left alone. " 
 
 The Visonti had failed. She had only fired the intel 
 lect. The imagination remained untouched. 
 
 "Your mother speaks freely with you," she said dryly. 
 
 " She desires me to know enough of human nature to 
 be good from principle, not from ignorance. Untempted 
 innocence is possible guilt is one of her sayings, and 
 then " added Lu, with a tender accent creeping into her 
 voice, "it is so beautiful to learn life from a mother 
 instead of from schoolgirls ! " 
 
 " Innocence does not set well on a woman of thirty. 
 It will not pass for virtue ! " exclaimed Sybil, as she 
 stood before the mirror and surveyed herself with com 
 placent admiration. "But come, child, stand by me and 
 see what difference there is besides age between you 
 and me." 
 
 Lulu with a bound sprang to her side. They stood for 
 a moment gazing straight at each other s faces in the 
 reflection, when the Visonti suddenly clasped the young 
 girl close, in a magnetic embrace. Her bare, rounded 
 arms and full, throbbing throat softly caressed Lulu,
 
 66 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 who, with an enraptured expression and a filmy haze in 
 her eyes, still kept her charmed gaze on the other s face. 
 
 " What is the difference between us, darling ? " mur 
 mured Sybil, with soft, clinging kisses on the high, white 
 forehead, and hot, flushed cheeks ; " only this, cherie ! 
 that thou art light and I am dark ; thou art North and I 
 am South ; thou art unawakened and I am all awake ! 
 Beautiful innocent, how thy lovely youth appeals to 
 me!" 
 
 Lulu felt herself losing all power of reasoning. Her 
 heart seemed ceasing to beat, her eyes were suffused. 
 She felt herself about to press a kiss on Sybil Visonti s 
 lips, when suddenly she seemed to hear Guy s voice 
 warning her. " Beware ! " it rang out ; " she wins 
 women as easily as she does men. I have seen her table 
 loaded with gifts from women. She possesses a strange, 
 undefinable power to which all must, more or less, yield." 
 
 " I yield no more ! " she thought, catching a long breath, 
 and stepping quickly away. 
 
 " I can t endure women s kisses," she burst out bravely, 
 and with all the vehemence of an offended child. " Miss 
 Visonti, I will not be so kissed ! " 
 
 Lurid lightning leaped for a second into those dark 
 eyes ; but she answered tenderly, " You were so beauti 
 ful, dear, I could not help it ! I am such a passionate 
 admirer of beauty, and your sweet face is so fair. Will 
 you not forgive me ? " 
 
 Lulu dropped her defiant mood instantly. " How bad 
 I am ! " she thought. " I have wronged her completely. 
 I am worse than she is ! " And with an air of penitence 
 which was positively touching, she lifted up those warm, 
 red lips which a moment before she had angrily withdrawn, 
 and suffered the Visonti to take her fill of their fragrant 
 loveliness. 
 
 " How potent is flattery ! " sneered Sybil to herself,
 
 THE SONNET 67 
 
 completely misjudging her. "Do you smoke ? " she 
 asked suddenly, as she tied the satin ribbons of a creamy 
 wrapper about her. " I have some excellent cigarettes 
 here and a little wine. It is a cordial, rather, do you 
 know it, Benedictine ? " She held up a short fat- 
 paunched bottle, prominently marked D. 0. M., with a 
 cross and sealed with leaden strips. 
 
 The matter-of-course way in which she set about making 
 her little guest comfortable made Lulu feel very simple in 
 deed; for^he not only did not smoke, but she had never 
 seen a lady smoke, and as for Benedictine, she had never 
 even heard of it. But what young girl desires to appear 
 " green," especially before a graceful woman of the world, 
 who would lightly ridicule the slightest touch of false 
 shame ! Nevertheless, Lulu herself did not wholly lack 
 diplomacy. 
 
 " I will not smoke," said she nonchalantly ; " but I 
 will drink your health." 
 
 Sybil gave her a delicate wine-glass filled with the 
 delicious liqueur. 
 
 " Oh, violets ! heliotrope ! roses ! spices ! the whole 
 garden of Paradise ! " exclaimed Lulu rapturously, as 
 she held the glass to her pretty little nose. " I never 
 knew a wine could be a perfume too ! " 
 
 " Drink, sweet ! " 
 
 She did so. " Honied flame ! " she cried. 
 
 " It has been made by the Benedictine monks ever since 
 1510, and they say the receipt remains unchanged. A 
 friend of mine wrote a sonnet in its praise. I wonder if 
 I could remember it," 
 
 " Please try," sipping like a bee at a flower. 
 
 " Delicious nectar! by the monks of old 
 
 Made precious, mingled with their prayers and sighs; 
 Or, if perchance some lamb within the fold 
 Found just approval in their critic eyes,
 
 68 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Drank with a wild, delirious throb of joy 
 
 To beauty, youth, and passion held at bay, 
 Or, if permitted, he, the winged boy 
 
 Clipped i the wings, never to flee away ! 
 How in this later age, thine amber flame 
 
 We hold on high, and pledge with equal praise 
 Fair loveliness and pleasure, quite the same 
 
 As beardless priests in darker, saintlier days! 
 Thou Benedictine! Lift thy golden bloom! 
 Spread violets and summer through the room." 
 
 Lulu listened with a pleased but puzzled air. " The 
 winged boy Cupid ? clipped i the wings, never to flee 
 away ? " she repeated questioningly. 
 
 " They kept their nuns very close/ said Sybil signifi- 
 ficantly. 
 
 Lulu jumped up and set her little glass down with a 
 crash. "This is wicked," she said, with an angry 
 frown. " I do not like it ! " 
 
 Sybil laughed a low, languorous, seductive laugh. 
 " How good it is to renew myself in you," she mur 
 mured. 
 
 Lulu walked to the door, and unceremoniously tossed 
 a good-night over her shoulder. " Charlie Vane was 
 right: she is a vampire," she thought, somewhat irrel 
 evantly. 
 
 " I suppose this is what Sardia would call bad morals," 
 murmured the Visonti to herself, as she laughed a little 
 sneer after the indignant Lulu. " I hate young girls ! "
 
 JAMES FORGETS A DUTY 69 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ALL ABOUT A LETTER. 
 
 "I ll example you with thievery." 
 
 Timon of Athens. 
 
 THE very excellent and methodical waiter James, who 
 was the model of butleristic virtues, for once had forgot 
 ten a duty. As he had replaced the glittering decanter 
 of French brandy in the sideboard, he had suddenly 
 become aware of a singular and searching pain in the 
 abdominal cavity. That this pain should arrive at so 
 appropriate a season, was a coincidence which somewhat 
 astonished the good James, but he hailed the fact as an 
 indication of a very intelligent stomach, and so pro 
 ceeded to reward it accordingly. Having reduced the 
 pain to a state of serenity, he then treated it for the 
 sake of its good-humor, and finally, while holding the 
 beautiful bottle between his critical eye and the light, 
 he discovered that it was not tinged with the slightest 
 shade of brown. Not a drop remained. Now some hours 
 afterwards, having retired to his bed, he suddenly sat up. 
 Something was disturbing his well-governed conscience. 
 He endeavored to remember whether the plate had been 
 carefully stowed away and locked in the velvet-lined 
 safes; yes, that was all right. Perhaps he had forgot 
 ten to lock the hall window ? Oh, no, not at all ! Well, 
 what had been left unordered ? Would anything be 
 lacking for to-morrow s breakfast ? What day was it ? 
 Saturday ! Ah, that was it. It was Saturday night and 
 the great clock had not been wound.
 
 70 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Now twice within "a quarter be had forgotten this 
 simple duty. Now again he would be taken to task in 
 the morning, and be the recipient of a frown from his 
 master that master whom he would give up his life (but 
 not his brandy) to please ! For was not the clock an 
 old heirloom, and was not the regular winding of it posi 
 tively necessary for its internal welfare ? So it had been 
 impressed upon him. James laughed to himself, and 
 slowly stuck a rather large foot and fat calf out of bed. 
 " Cognac is positively necessary for my internal welfare," 
 said he. 
 
 The house was all dark and quiet as he proceeded in 
 loosely hung habiliments and soft list slippers, to make 
 his way slowly down into the lower hall. When there, 
 and standing by the ancient time-piece, he discovered 
 that the library was still lighted and the door half open. 
 Mr. Fielding was pacing rapidly up and down the room. 
 He seemed disturbed and frequently gnawed his upper 
 lip, a habit of his when in deep thought. 
 
 Now large clocks with brass works make considerable 
 noise when being wound, and James was sure if he 
 attempted to do it his master would hear him. That 
 would be most unpleasant. His personal vanity would 
 not permit a rencontre in so light a dishabille ; indeed, he 
 feared he might meet with genuine disapproval of many 
 other things about himself at such an hour. What should 
 he do ? As he hesitated, Mr. Fielding approached his 
 desk and took up a letter. He removed it from the 
 envelope, began to read it and exclaimed, " Dated at 
 Paris, March 16 ! How few months since this was 
 written, and now ! " He threw it down and began to 
 pace the floor again. 
 
 Just then, something above him attracted James s at 
 tention. Had he been of Irish descent he would have 
 probably cried out with superstitious fear ; but he was
 
 TWO TAKE ADVANTAGE 71 
 
 "Hinglish" to the backbone, and so slunk into the 
 deeper shadow by the side of the tall clock and waited. 
 Slowly a vision of snowy white stole down the stairs. 
 It was a woman in a long trailing garment which made 
 not a sound on the thick pile of the carpet, but fell 
 silently step by step after her quiet feet. With held 
 breath James tried to discern in the darkness who it 
 could be. "It s the mistress, certain," thought he, "and 
 when she goes into the library, maybe she will shut the 
 door, and then I can wind up the old ticker in a hurry." 
 But when she had approached the door he suppressed a 
 start of surprise. " If it isn t that rum quean ! " 
 
 At that moment Mr. Fielding again sat down at his 
 desk and took up the letter. He opened it out before 
 him as if to read it thoroughly. Sybil Visonti silently 
 stole in behind him. It was her intention to put her 
 hands over his eyes and then with a soft kiss and word 
 to awaken him to who so blinded him. She approached 
 with arms outstretched for the purpose, when her eyes 
 suddenly caught the date of the letter, and with a start, 
 she withdrew her hands and stood perfectly still. With 
 one more keen look at the sheet, she began to slowly 
 retreat. Long practice alone in the difficult art of carry 
 ing a train could have given her such grace and ease in 
 the departure backwards out of that large library. But 
 she did it so noiselessly that Ralfe read on, as uncon 
 scious of her presence as if he had been under the in 
 fluence of an opiate. She gained the hall and stood in 
 the shadow, watching him. 
 
 If she held her breath, how much more so did James ! 
 He felt his heart knock against his ribs, and could have 
 sworn at himself until morning to think his " wind " 
 would make the least noise in escaping. 
 
 Having carefully read the letter through, Ralfe re 
 placed it in the envelope, tossed it into the desk, care-
 
 72 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 lessly turned the key without taking it away, and 
 stepped to the window. 
 
 Not a sigh stirred the leaves. The moon at the 
 zenith was gloriously white and full. The silence of 
 one o clock lay over the scene. He pushed aside the 
 curtain and stepped out. In a moment his steps could 
 be heard going in the direction of the sea. In a flash, 
 Sybil sprang into the library, turned the key of the 
 desk, caught up the letter, returned the key and came 
 out into the hall, slipping the paper into her pocket. 
 She then quietly went up to her room, shut the door 
 softly, and locked it. 
 
 James stood for a moment quite dumbfounded. Then 
 with a sardonic chuckle, he said, 
 
 " I might as well take my little advantage too ! " and 
 began to wind the clock. Ascending the stairs, he 
 passed Sybil s door still drolly chuckling, and finally got 
 into bed saying, " Ay, but she s the rummest quean I 
 ever see ! First, she drinks brandy, then she gets lost, 
 and arter that she creeps down at midnight and hooks 
 the master s papers. That s high life, that is ! Bum 
 kind o life too, just like a book. Jinks, but she s a 
 game un ! None o my business though. Jeemes, if you 
 knows yourself, don t you tell no tales below stairs ! " 
 And he settled himself with a profound sense of his own 
 wisdom. 
 
 Ralfe had spent a very unusual two hours. He was 
 not given to taking himself to task, and seldom troubled 
 himself to criticise his own state of feeling ; but the 
 events of the evening had seemed to throw his thoughts 
 into inextricable confusion, which he vainly endeavored 
 to disentangle. Until now he had never permitted him 
 self to compare Miss Visonti with his wife. He was so 
 firmly convinced of his deathless passion for Sybil that
 
 RALFE S REVENGE 73 
 
 the very thought of comparing her with any other woman 
 was obnoxious to him. The imagination of feeling, the 
 poetry of emotion which filled his sensitive spirit with 
 delight, made the very name of his loved one a sacred 
 thing. To her he had given the first bright, unsullied 
 ardor of his life. And beautiful was the awakening 
 of a soul so responsive. It had vaguely occurred to 
 him at times that he made his own paradise as he went 
 along, for he had that gift of the gods, acuteness of per 
 ception, and the power to take advantage of it. All 
 that was sensuous in nature he took to his heart and 
 felt. The perfumes from the garden and the orchard 
 brought him keen delights. The flush of roses that 
 burned along the hedgerow lingered in his memory long 
 after he had entered the dust and heat of the city. The 
 brave, free carol of the bobolink, who piped and trilled 
 to him in summer dawns, awakened in his receptive 
 fancy those indescribable emotions which lend enchant 
 ment to the livelong day. The mountains seemed to 
 lift him to their heights. The ocean bore his soul upon 
 its bosom. God s stars he saw and loved as something 
 near : close to the unseen, he was still in thorough sym 
 pathy with the seen. The keenest wit, the subtlest 
 philosophy, the most gracious charms of poetry and 
 symmetry were all but ministers to serve or give him 
 absolute contentment. Fantastic, sportive, pathetic, 
 half spiritual, his moods grew out of the experiences of 
 the hour. The tenderness of his nature lent to the 
 simplest phrase or commonest greeting all the eloquence 
 of a caress. 
 
 The gay whirl of European dissipation had enlight 
 ened him as to the blunt realisms of life, quickened his 
 intellect, deepened his character, confirmed his habits, 
 settled his morals, but never once had touched his 
 heart. Not until his eyes had rested on the dark face
 
 74 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 destined to enchant him had he felt one quicker throb 
 of the pulse which arose from anything stronger 
 than ordinary causes. The mental and physical excite 
 ment which rounded character and person, in no wise 
 trespassing upon the soul, left it as virginal and respon 
 sive as that of a child. Discriminating the perception 
 and fine the art which could discover that hidden treasure, 
 and could assume the semblance of a being worthy to 
 receive its pure yet fervid glow ! 
 
 But now, with the mystery of the returned declara 
 tion undisclosed ; the strange secret which had haunted 
 him ever since the first hint of it had inadvertently 
 faltered from Sybil s lips, and yet which he had ac 
 cepted without question, with a faith and love that could 
 not brook a thought of evil ; with the superb woman 
 under his own roof, who had magically given the very 
 air a new zest, while some adverse fate had as yet given 
 him no opportunity to see her for a single moment alone, 
 he felt himself growing desperate, his senses became 
 even more enthralled, while his instinct coldly warned 
 him of he knew not what. 
 
 Yet with a singular curiosity he analyzed his own 
 condition. Inevitably with this came the remembrance 
 of the new legal barrier which he had voluntarily 
 placed between himself and his idol. He cursed his 
 folly in a thousand eloquent terms. The thought of his 
 bondage was agonizing. For if she did not love him, 
 why was Sybil here ? But then, his promise to be true 
 to Helen. What was it to be true ? To what extent 
 might he morally go ? If Helen loved him, there could 
 be no question. But if she did not ? If she, too, in 
 her secret heart, longed to shatter the ties of conven 
 ience as he believed he did ? Surely, Helen loved Sir 
 Sardia. Had she not preferred him this very evening, 
 and when quite irresponsible ? Was not her choice the
 
 A DARLING WOMAN 75 
 
 natural expression of her heart ? He involuntarily 
 thought of her beauty. Her pure, sweet face turned so 
 trustingly to Sardia suddenly came before him with a 
 sensation of pain. He all at once felt angry, hot and 
 disgusted. He would like to thrust his friend out of his 
 path like a dog. His blood rose in fire to his temples at 
 the thought of Helen, his wife Helen, lavishing her de 
 votion on another, and perhaps to her future grief and 
 chagrin, giving forth an unreturned affection. He would 
 defend his comrade. Comrade ! The word struck coldly 
 and bitterly on his ear. How far away it made her 
 seem, how remote from any possible love for him ! 
 
 How deeply blue her eyes had looked when she appealed 
 to him, yes, to him, not to Sardia, for protection and en 
 couragement ! He felt a glow of chivalrous tenderness 
 replace his vague jealousy. Helen was a darling woman. 
 How exquisitely she had sung ! Now he remembered he 
 had never heard her sing alone before. She had joined 
 her voice with the others when sailing, or when they had 
 gathered about the piano, but he could not remember 
 that he had requested her to sing particularly for him. 
 His conscience troubled him. 
 
 " I have not been so polite to her as to an ordinary 
 guest. What must she think of me ! I have accepted 
 her proposition of being a mere comrade with a ven 
 geance ! No wonder she turns to one who watches her 
 lightest word, who is never for an instant forgetful of 
 what is due a beautiful woman and his hostess. But 
 the song ! 
 
 " Oh, life is such a little part 
 To the great love 
 
 And she wrote it when a mere schoolgirl. By Jove ! 
 in Paris I called it a work of genius then I thought it 
 an improvisation, and Sybil s and now, it shows a deal
 
 76 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 of talent. So ray little wife is a poet. A pair of poets ! 
 How keenly appreciative she seemed of my work that 
 day ! How sweet she looked when I was about to read 
 to her, and that I must be mad ! I almost said that 
 woman ! How she looked in her sleep ! What a 
 strange, horrible expression ! Guy was a brick. Dear, 
 courteous old boy ! He would excuse the Devil. But 
 the proof of her deliberate deception theft ! " Thus 
 he suddenly characterized it. "It was not even literary 
 plagiarism, it was simple theft. Yet all women make 
 use of these little arts. She could not have dreamed it 
 would ever injure Helen all is fair in love and ivar, " 
 he argued. 
 
 Reading the letter so coldly returned to him his sense 
 of doubt and wrong culminated, by a slow mental process, 
 in a feeling of bitterness with all the world, and finally 
 left him, as it were stranded, neither on sea nor on land. 
 His quiet walk down the garden to the water ended 
 abruptly with the thought, "I will see Sybil alone, as 
 soon as possible. She shall explain, and I know, I know 
 I shall find her the very incarnation of goodness and 
 truth." 
 
 He turned and approached his dwelling. How stately 
 it looked in the brilliant light. The graceful balco 
 nies, the grouped windows, the open arcade, the statue 
 and vase-bordered terraces, all indicated the gay and 
 sunny social temperature of *a summer residence. How 
 sensitively alive he was to aesthetic surroundings he had 
 displayed in the picture-gallery, adorned with some won 
 derful selections which he had cautiously made during 
 his Continental stay. Then the well-planned library, 
 the conservatory, all showed the direction of his artistic 
 tastes. His dignified love of leisure and repose had 
 found expression in the cool and spacious verandas 
 which he had added immediately on his arrival. He
 
 THE SHADOW 77 
 
 had brought home with him a cultivated perception of 
 truthful beauty and, so far as he could, he had improved 
 a villa, already the exponent of a refined architectural 
 discernment. 
 
 He now gazed affectionately at this home, which had 
 so soon become a vivid interest to him, and noted im 
 mediately that through the broad, rustic lattice, diauiond- 
 paned and draped with honeysuckle, which faced the 
 sea, came a soft, golden glow. The white shade was 
 drawn, and to his surprise, Ralfe saw upon it a perfect 
 silhouette. " Why, that is Sybil s room. Can she be up 
 at this hour ? " he thought, as he eagerly traced the 
 graceful outline. Very soon the shadow moved and 
 showed Sybil slightly leaning forward. In a moment he 
 discovered what she was doing. She was reading a 
 letter.
 
 78 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE VISONTI SOLITAIRE. 
 
 " Speak to me as to thy thinkings, 
 As thou dost ruminate ; and give thy worst of thoughts 
 The worst of words." 
 
 Othello. 
 
 WHEN Sybil had lain herself upon her soft bed, with 
 a pretty amber cigarette-holder between her teeth, and 
 the smoke drifting idly out of the diamond-paned case 
 ment, which she had opened, she slowly went over in 
 her own mind the events which had brought about the 
 stealing of Ealfe s letter. She bluntly called it stealing in 
 her own mind, with the singular frankness to themselves 
 which sometimes belongs to people who are anything but 
 candid to others. The edge of her moral sense was so 
 turned and roughened that her thoughts of others, of 
 events, of things in general, took on a brusque practi 
 cality while, in contradistinction, she was so keenly alive 
 to her own beauties, so absolutely vain and sure of her 
 physical charms, that her mind became an unconscious 
 homage to her body, and the very sentences of her brain, 
 self-flattery. She smiled now, as she thought of the 
 exploit, with the satisfaction of one who has accom 
 plished a shrewd manoeuvre. 
 
 " It is singular to me what can have become of father s 
 money," the train of her thoughts began. "What a 
 glum old couple they were mother and father ! They 
 were rich, or they always appeared so, and now what a 
 shabby income I have from the property. What is two
 
 "THINKS I TO MYSELF" 79 
 
 thousand dollars a year for me ? Why, I can remember 
 that I spent that at sixteen. They were indulgent old 
 folks. Strange, what an odd make-up I am ! Now I 
 don t believe I ever felt towards my mother and father 
 as other girls do. I liked them, but they were so dull, 
 so melancholy always. I don t remember that father 
 ever kissed me six times in his life. The older I grew, 
 the more chronically shocked he got. I was a madcap. 
 And mother mother was a sweet old woman, but some 
 way I didn t feel as if I could mourn much about her. 
 I am hard-hearted, except when I love, and then I am 
 cruel. I did love them when I was a child, but I never 
 could see that I was a bit like either of them. I hated 
 their grandeur and courtly etiquette. I preferred to play 
 with the boys in the street. The dark closet and bread 
 and water made me polite and a liar. 
 
 "I suppose they ate up nearly all their fortune in their 
 fine living, leaving me some paltry remnants. They no 
 doubt supposed I should marry. Well, the miserable 
 little sum comes regularly, thank Heaven ! What an 
 untroubled, careless life I led until I left school ! But I 
 was not so stupid as Lu, innocent little fool ! Yet, what 
 did I know of life ? Why, I was the model scholar, 
 the pattern of propriety, ha, ha ! " and she shook with 
 bitter laughter at her own reflections. " That is how 
 Helen knew me. She supposed I was a model scholar 
 now, the pink of convention, no doubt, or she would not 
 have invited me. If she had dreamed I knew Paris from 
 palace to hovel ! What a tame, proper, milk-and-water 
 creature she is ! She hasn t spirit enough to say her soul 
 is her own. I have little to fear from her. But she s 
 generous, which is convenient. Just give her a hint, and 
 she gives you the spoil. She is beautiful, in her way. 
 But she has no art, no style, and such natural grace is so 
 horribly commonplace nowadays. Then she is so dull. I
 
 80 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 suppose she is religious, although she never says anything 
 about it. How the men respect her ! They never say 
 one word before her that an angel might not hear. But 
 men don t love these doses of cold water. Oh, these 
 conventional, calm, selfish hypocrites of women, so good, 
 so churchy good, they take, as wives, with some men. 
 They softly steal into the masculine confidence on their 
 merits. Merits ! I hate the word. It makes me think 
 of the rewards of merit she would slip into my hand 
 and make me carry home from school, when I had lost 
 every one of mine by my downright mischief. So she 
 was marked down, and I got the prizes. That shows she 
 was a fool, even as a child. She said she loved me, 
 pooh ! I suppose she has revelled in an inner conscious 
 ness of her goodness ever since. She is just that kind. 
 She leads an irreproachable life because it pays her in 
 secret self-complacency. It is all selfishness, come to 
 the bottom of it. 
 
 " And as for Kalfe well, as he is worth a couple of 
 hundred thousand for each letter of his name, I think I 
 will pursue what I have begun. She will not be so likely 
 to hand over that prize to me. But it is worth a strug 
 gle. She will have her own money, and that adorer of 
 hers Sardia can console her for her loss. Ah, this 
 dear, accommodating country of mine ! where a slight 
 incompatibility of temper, a well-worked-up flirtation, a 
 simple charge of abuse, backed by a still simpler little 
 tribute of friendly feeling to the judge in the way of 
 Government bonds, for instance, can brush away like a 
 cobweb those holy, pure, sacred legal bonds that make up 
 marriage. 
 
 " Marriage, bah ! Who would be tied to it for any con 
 sideration but cash ? Julian didn t want marriage, and 
 I didn t want Julian, after the first fools paradise. I 
 fear his fatherly influence would be anything but ad van-
 
 "I LL RISK IT!" 81 
 
 tageous to my Good Heavens ! why cannot I keep my 
 thoughts in order ? I could once. Ah, it is just as well, 
 my handsome, enraged Julian, that you turned up at so 
 apropos a moment, and sent back this letter for me, torn 
 and open ; that you vowed I belonged to you body and 
 soul ; that you were my master, and no other man should 
 dare to intrude upon your rights ! It was just as well, 
 my cruel, haughty Julian, that you prevented me from 
 making an honorable marriage then, without the million. 
 But can you stop me now ? Can you prevent it now ? " 
 
 A slow, triumphant smile swept over her face. 
 
 " And yet the dear old boy was the only man worth 
 having. He tossed me a thousand francs or ten sous 
 with equal nonchalance. He was a savage creature. I 
 loved him for it. His temper was like a great whirl 
 wind. I felt swept away in it. How his eyes flashed, 
 and then, how he caressed me ! But poverty the hor 
 rid changeful life life in a trunk ! Now here, now 
 there, sometimes high, sometimes low, the gambling and 
 the men about town faugh ! I endured it long 
 enough ! Respectability henceforth, Visonti. Respecta 
 bility, and luxury ! I hardly know which was the 
 best luck to-night, to get the letter or to have surprised 
 Ralfe with a soft kiss on his forehead as I intended. 
 But the interview shall come, and perhaps under still 
 better circumstances. He was reading the letter, so was 
 thinking of me, and finished his dreaming in the garden, 
 no doubt. He trembles lest I do not love him ; he mar 
 vels why I am here ; he is getting even more wild than 
 ever before. It is just as well to play him a little. He is 
 gamey enough to make pleasant sport. He loves me, 
 and I love nobody but myself and my my cigarette s 
 out ! I will not break my own rules." 
 
 She remained quiet for a long time, looking straight 
 before her without seeing anything, her mind became so
 
 82 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 thoroughly absorbed in the next thought that presented 
 itself the Princess Menshikoff. A thousand specula 
 tions, plots, plans, evasions, diplomacies to outwit and 
 baffle her evident enmity, crowded that busy brain. But 
 at last, with a characteristic reckless courage, she 
 exclaimed to herself, " There is time enough when she 
 strikes ! " For out of her past came up memories of 
 many situations when a sudden inspiration had carried 
 her as safely along as if she had planned it all for years ; 
 and now she determinedly dismissed her anxieties with 
 an " I ll risk it ! " and glancing around the room, " Ah ! " 
 she yawned, " this is a good bed," and slipping her hand 
 under the pillow to be sure the letter was safe, she 
 kicked the downy covering more comfortably over her 
 little feet ? and stretched out her limbs in the very epi 
 curism of indolent and sensuous pleasure. Soon she 
 slept. Soft, silver rays crept in to steal steadily up the 
 lithe, graceful brown arm ; to touch the rich lace and 
 creamy ribbons at the throat ; to glisten on the glossy black 
 hair ; to light up the strangely expressive countenance. 
 But they seemed to shudder and go out as they fell upon 
 the mouth the dropping under lip, rolled out and 
 heavy, the wicked dark shadows of it as it slightly 
 parted. A cloud had hidden the moon.
 
 WHAT THE MOON HAD SEEK 83 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 A WOMAN S HAND. 
 
 " While overhead the moon sits arbitress." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 How that same moon which now for an instant hid 
 her face in the clouds, had followed, followed, followed 
 Sybil around the world ! How many places had been 
 full of serene moonlight, when her heart was mad with 
 gay revels, dark with despair, or defiant of fate ! How 
 it had looked upon her when she came from stately ball 
 rooms, wrapped in her ermines, and ready to step into a 
 carriage like a jewel-box ! How it had stared at her 
 coldly and sarcastically when she had flitted along the 
 uneven alleys of the foreign city where she had hidden 
 name and shame ! How it had laughed and jeered at her 
 as she had stood on the deck of the great steamer, home 
 ward bound, after years of a life filled to overflowing 
 with incidents which finally had brought her to this last 
 and greatest venture ! How it shone now upon the 
 graves of those old people, who, buried in a land foreign 
 to them, rested beneath a proud Italian marble, carved 
 with the record of their nobility, their goodness, and 
 their family fame ! Strange representative of a stately 
 name ! She sometimes felt an alien and plebeian pro 
 test steal into her veins, against the necessity for con 
 tinuing in her person the conditions of her race. " I 
 sometimes wish I had come of common stock," she had 
 once petulantly exclaimed to Julian, whom nothing ever 
 shocked ; " I wish I had not been hampered with this
 
 84 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 name, so old and grand ! It limits me so ! Don t you 
 see ? I feel as if in bondage to my own cognomen, or 
 to those fine ancestors of mine whom I solely stand for. 
 I bear about with me something besides myself. I am 
 saddled with the virtues of ancient ladies and the honor 
 of old heroes ! If my doings are found out, I not only 
 ruin myself, but blot forever the escutcheon of the Vison- 
 tis. We must be a thousand times more careful than as 
 if I were nobody. And what advantage is it after all ? 
 Perhaps it is my American education, perhaps my natu 
 ral depravity, but I can t see any good in an old name, 
 excepting the money, worldly esteem and position, which 
 accompany it." 
 
 " You are not proud, then, of the character which your 
 forefathers must have possessed to have gained their 
 honors ? " answered Julian, with a peculiar smile. 
 
 " Character ? No. All I am proud of or care for is 
 what accrues to my benefit at this moment. That is 
 what the old fellows were made for ! " and she smiled 
 with pleasure at her own irreverence, for she fully 
 believed it. Her parents had indeed been wealthy and 
 liberal. They were aristocratic, reserved, well-bred. Of 
 pure and ancient lineage, they had, like many titled 
 Italians, found themselves the last of a race whose for 
 tunes had dwindled, until now, only a dim and dreary 
 palace in Venice, stripped of its fair belongings, and of 
 necessity rented from basement to roof to a miscella 
 neous collection of foreigners, remained. They dropped 
 their titles and came to America. Here was a new field, 
 and here they prospered. One dream possessed them, 
 a dream never to be realized, the restoration of the 
 old palace, and the resuming of somewhat of the splen 
 dor of ancient days. 
 
 Once when she was a child, Sybil had crossed the 
 ocean and journeyed with them to their beloved Venice.
 
 ESCAPADES 85 
 
 Once had she tarried for a brief period in the home 
 of the Visontis. Never had she seen her parents so 
 sad as when there. Never had they seemed so myste 
 rious. But she was a child, and the impression faded. 
 Then, just at the end of her Convent life, they had 
 died, almost together, and she had been left at nine 
 teen without a living relative. Made mistress of a small 
 income by the executors of her father s property, chap 
 eroned by a fashionable widow, she had gone abroad, 
 and her beauty, wit, accomplishments and name had 
 won for her the admiration and homage her insatiable 
 and ever-present vanity craved. Then came the meeting 
 with Julian Savelli ! Escaping from the gentle espionage 
 of her chaperone one day in the Louvre, and ever ready 
 for the least adventure which savored of the forbidden, 
 she had seen him gazing at her with undisguised admira 
 tion, and had flirted slyly with her pretty fan, then had 
 dropped it, and blushed a little as she accepted it from his 
 hand and with it a lifelong bondage to bitter memories ! 
 Oh, the wild escapades the moonlight saw when Mrs. 
 Mellen, an invalid at all times, really fell ill at her 
 hotel and could no longer take charge of her young 
 friend ! The meetings, the dinners, the trips to the 
 country, the rides and walks in the great squares and 
 parks, the dainty little suppers, a thousand times more 
 enjoyed because no one knew or dreamed of them. 
 For, who and what was Julian ? An American by birth, 
 he said, but oh ! the passion and fire and fury of the 
 Italian blood which he confessed burned in his veins ! 
 Julian, whose life was the life of a gambler, a sport, a 
 roue, whose stories of adventurous existence in this gay, 
 mad Paris made her quiver with delight, he could show 
 her " life ! " He could teach her the " go," the " vim " 
 of the only existence worth a short word ! He refused 
 to be introduced to her " set." He scorned the conveu-
 
 86 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 tionalities of the American colony ; he despised the bond 
 age of etiquette. He was Bohemian, and he snapped his 
 long white*fingers at rules. His morals were as broad 
 as the world ; his idea of principle to enjoy himself ! 
 
 Well he taught the easily won girl the code of his ex 
 istence. She eagerly breathed in the sophistries of his 
 philosophy. The sudden exigencies of his changeable 
 life seemed to be her element. To elude, to watch, to 
 risk, to plan, to scheme, and to trust luck, these were 
 the lessons her acquaintance with Julian taught her, and 
 she entered into the amusements he favored with un 
 guarded enthusiasm. The moon followed this surrepti 
 tious intercourse with a watchful eye, and soon love, 
 that beautiful and sacred word, became on their lips a 
 significant sound. 
 
 Then came the sudden death of Mrs. Mellen. Sybil 
 excused herself from returning to America with the 
 remains of her chaperone, she had begun to study for 
 the stage. Xone to contradict her, none to interfere 
 with her, w r ith a certain amount to draw upon every 
 three months, life in Paris became life with Julian. 
 But soon the moon looked down upon deceit, jealousy, 
 reproaches, quarrels, coldness, and at last desertion. 
 Julian had ceased to find her quite and completely 
 absorbed in himself. She had profited by the breadth 
 and looseness of the limits he had preached, and he 
 found her applying them to herself, not to any extent, 
 but enough to first madden and then disgust him. Even 
 a divided smile did not please this much-divided lover. 
 Besides, there were consequences, and he believed in 
 assuming no responsibilities. He was engaged in a lit 
 tle scheme in London, and to London he went ; first-class 
 and smiling. 
 
 She was left alone in great fear and trouble. She 
 knew what it was to tremble at night and to weep in the
 
 HER SILENT TRIAL 87 
 
 morning. She felt the uncompromising and stern atmos 
 phere which surrounds the guilty press on her heart 
 and crush out hope. The food that to her had been as 
 luscious as honey, had shortly become as bitter as gall, 
 and she ate it in sorrow and silence, hiding beneath a 
 gay smile the horror and affright of her racked soul. 
 
 She had long ago deserted her fashionable associates, on 
 pretence of absolute seclusion for the sake of " her art." 
 She had given up all, everything, for this handsome, 
 impetuous, terrible, yet fascinating man. And now, 
 where should she go ? Where could she hide ? To 
 whom could she appeal ? Back to America ? Never. 
 There she was still the true, modest, well-bred girl who 
 had left them. Stay in Paris ? Impossible. Soon one 
 step in the street, and she might be detected. Ah, the 
 old Visonti palace ! She knew of no one whom she should 
 fear to meet there, for she would never go out by day, 
 and at night the gondola would protect her from observa 
 tion. She packed with feverish haste, travelled without 
 a pause. Soon she was established in a little apartment 
 next the sky, alone, unknown, uncared for by any 
 living soul. 
 
 Many a night the great mellow moon of Italy rose 
 and glowed through the high stone casement, as she 
 sat thinking, planning her future, many a time it 
 found her with head bowed on the dark, dimpled 
 hands, in an agony of tears. Many a time it saw her 
 with pale face and frightened eyes, almost ready to 
 appeal to the first woman she met for direction, for com 
 fort ; and then the determined checking of desire, and 
 the undaunted will which bore her one day more through 
 her silent trial. But the waiting and the silence brought 
 to her no repentance. She drew no lesson from her 
 position save that of caution and concealment. She 
 only hated fate and the world and Julian, and then
 
 88 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 longed for Julian with all her weary, misguided 
 mind. 
 
 At last one night, when the great silver orb seemed to 
 pursue her with relentless light, she came up the wide 
 and winding stair of the Visonti palace heavily and as 
 if in a dream. The evening sail on the lagoon had been 
 an intoxication. The poetry and charm of the lovely 
 city had seemed to fill her spirit with rapturous peace. 
 Drifting slowly on the placid waters, over which mellow 
 music floated like an invisible mist and melted into 
 delicious silence ; where lights in many colors were 
 caught and reflected as trembling jewels ; listening to 
 the tones of the distant bells striking the hour, she had 
 yielded to the spell and half-forgotten, for once, herself. 
 But now as she climbed the stairs she began to pant for 
 breath. Her heart seemed ceasing to beat. Her head 
 was on fire. She called faintly, and then fell. When 
 she awoke to consciousness she found herself lying upon 
 a gorgeous bed in a lofty chamber, surrounded with chat 
 tering women. Sybil had never ascertained, had indeed 
 never asked, who occupied any of the apartments. She 
 only knew that the establishment of a titled lady occu 
 pied the first floor. She had avoided seeing or meeting 
 any one, and had maintained a scrupulous seclusion. 
 But now opening her eyes, she saw for a moment a face 
 she was destined never to forget. She closed them again 
 in utter weariness. She was gently treated, and the 
 women seemed kind. She could ask nothing more. Her 
 mind was dull. Her brain seemed dormant. She be 
 lieved she was dying. 
 
 Later she found herself in her own apartment. A 
 French nurse was attending to her wants, and occasion 
 ally she received messages through her, of fruits, flowers, 
 and pretty gifts from the generous lady who had pitied 
 her helplessness, befriended her in her hour of direst
 
 FLIGHT 89 
 
 need, and allowed her the attention of her own servant 
 with all the goodness of a mother. 
 
 But soon came a more formal announcement. Her 
 benefactress would, with her permission, call upon her. 
 "Ah," Sybil instantly thought, " and if she calls, she will 
 question me. I must answer her, I must tell my story ! " 
 She sent word that in a few days she should feel strong 
 enough to receive the kindest lady in all the world, then 
 set about avoiding such a meeting. Her nurse had be 
 trayed an intense homesickness. She was French, pro 
 vincial and longed for her native village. But she was 
 bound to her mistress by ties of gratitude, and was in some 
 respects indispensable to her. Sybil easily worked upon 
 her feelings, and persuaded her that to go away silently, 
 without a word, would be the easiest way to reach her 
 longed-for home. She bribed her to accompany her to 
 France, and promised to retain her in her service on her 
 arrival. Succeeding, it was an easy matter to carry out 
 her plan, and Sybil returned the care, the goodness, the 
 unquestioning benevolence of the lady, who was the 
 Princess Menshikoff, with flight. Weak, but resolute, 
 with the assistance of the efficient maid she had thus so 
 conveniently secured, in the moonlight, which now 
 seemed to mock and threaten her, she stole away from 
 the old Visonti palace, leaving no trace behind. 
 
 "Self-preservation is the first law of nature," she 
 coolly said to herself, as she glanced back at the fast- 
 receding lights of the " Bride of the Sea." " Now for 
 the lies of society, the shams of decorum, and the bore 
 dom of our set. I shall appear with a quiet companion. 
 I can find one in two hours in dear Paris ! She will tell 
 people how persistently I have been studying under an 
 Italian master. She will say how proper, how self-con 
 tained, how earnest in pursuit of art, has been my exist 
 ence. I will go on with Delsarte, and if I do not find an
 
 90 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 eligible party I will go on the stage in earnest. Money, 
 money ! I must and will have it. The world owes it to 
 me, and shall pay it. Am I not beautiful ? Have I not 
 wit and grace and culture ? For what was I born, except 
 ing to rule, to revel in all the enjoyments of earth ? Let 
 the ugly and ill-educated plod ! Let the sallow-cheeked, 
 heavy-eyed, low-born, stupid sewing woman work her 
 ringers to the bone ! I am a Visonti. Yonder is the 
 palace of my ancestors ! " smothering a sardonic grimace 
 and a stinging laugh at her own equivocal relation to it. 
 " With the blood of the Eomans in my veins I should 
 be a queen. What else is there to live for ? Luxury and 
 power, beautiful dresses, gay parties, my carriage, my 
 bouquets, with these, I can forget, forget and bury 
 my past in a sea of pleasure." She sat motionless for a 
 while, watching the flying landscape as the train rolled 
 onward ; then with a fierce light in her eyes, glancing at 
 the maid whose face was buried in a bundle of lace and 
 down, she murmured, " If this should ever be known, 
 every woman s hand would be against me. Until then, 
 my hand shall be against every woman ! "
 
 "MY GUESTS ARE BROTHERS" 91 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 PRINCESS MENSHIKOFF S RECEPTION. 
 
 " Dost sometimes counsel take and sometimes tea." 
 
 The Rape of the Lock. 
 
 " Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric." 
 
 Comus. 
 
 IN a few days after the hashish party, a note from 
 Signor Zante announced in rather lordly fashion, that the 
 Princess Menshikoff would " receive " the following even 
 ing, and sent a general invitation to Mr. and Mrs. Field 
 ing and their guests. " You know the eccentricities of 
 madame the princess," he wrote, in an apologetic vein, 
 " she never goes out of her own house excepting to drive, 
 and her drives are almost invariably in the evening or 
 at night, when she can breathe free in all space, as she 
 calls it. But to her undoubted genius perhaps you will 
 accord the honor of your presence, since she is sought by 
 the distinguished of all lands." 
 
 Every one was very happy to accept this invitation, 
 since the great Russian writer had become a constant 
 topic of conversation in society circles. Her rank, her 
 literary reputation, her singular religious theories, pro 
 mulgated with a fearlessness and frankness verging on 
 what was " horrible " and " shocking " to Puritanic prin 
 ciples, but none the less fascinating for that, combined 
 with her extreme exclusiveness and the superb yet odd 
 appointments of her establishment, made her the mys 
 terious delight of whispered wonder and the acme of 
 excitement to those satiated worldlings who had ex-
 
 92 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 liausted all ordinary amusements. The party at " Spray 
 View " felt an agreeable interest in the possibilities of 
 the evening, and they had formed an impression from the 
 "pupil" of the princess, which exacted deferential 
 respect. The grave and courteous dignity of the "stu 
 dent of ancient Buddhism " carried with it a profound 
 sense of his moral excellence, while the quiet modesty 
 of his bearing imposed on them no check to their accus 
 tomed pleasures. 
 
 Sybil, however, announced most decidedly that she 
 should not go. She sneeringly alluded to the " rages " 
 and " crazes " which carry away Americans with the least 
 novelty, and assumed an air of indifference to the many 
 speculations and imaginings as to how they would be 
 entertained. Sardia, who had absented himself all the 
 morning, came in while the discussion, as to ho\v they 
 should dress, was going on among the ladies. Helen 
 appealed to him. 
 
 " The princess being an old friend of Sir Sardia, he 
 must know positively what would be appropriate to 
 attend one of her receptions. Does she require full 
 dress in her august presence ? or in deference to her 
 nationality, shall we assume the Russian costume ? " 
 She playfully laughed. 
 
 " Oh," said he, " dress precisely as you please ! She 
 will never know if you are in gold cloth or common print. 
 For herself, her costume is invariably the same excepting 
 in choice of material, the flowing sleeve, loose gown, 
 sandals, and mitts, with sometimes a silk or velvet cap, or 
 even Turkish fez, whenever she happens to think of it ! 
 There is not the least formality. You go and leave 
 when you please, and examine all her curious things 
 without the slightest conventionality. My guest can 
 take no liberty in my house, is one of her mottoes ; and 
 I assure you, ladies, her mind and her heart are as open,
 
 "YOU WILL GO" 93 
 
 as free, and as generous, as the liberty she loves. We 
 will all drop in as we find it convenient. The only thing 
 she desires is, that every one shall talk, and that there 
 shall be no formal introductions. My guests are equal, 
 and < My guests are brothers, I have often heard her say. 
 Oh, yes ! I must remind you that if a Russian offers you 
 a cigarette it is the most insulting breach of etiquette if 
 you refuse it, so by all means take a puff or two, out of 
 respect to the custom. Miss Sybil, you will not object ? " 
 smiling at her pleasantly. 
 
 "I do not smoke, but then, I am not going," she 
 answered carelessly. 
 
 Lulu looked duTnbfounded. 
 
 " Do you never smoke ? " she whispered significantly. 
 
 "Mind your own p s and q s you little Pinafore ! " she 
 replied, but flushed enough to betray herself. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you will go, I think," remarked Sardia in a 
 musing way, as he watched without comprehending this 
 little by-play. Then he repeated, looking her straight in 
 the eyes, " You will go I am sure." 
 
 And strange to say, when night came, she had lan 
 guidly concluded that after all there might be some 
 amusement to be gained in talking to this titled stranger. 
 Her superciliousness and lack of interest were charming 
 to Ealfe, whose ideal of womanly grace was repose. He 
 did not realize that the true quality he admired was 
 repose of spirit, from which spring the abiding harmo 
 nies and beauties of human nature. The semblance of it 
 in manner, to his infatuated judgment, was sufficient. 
 
 On arriving at the cottage the party were astonished 
 at the absence of lights streaming from the windows. 
 The house was quiet and dark, only a glimmer here and 
 there indicating occupancy. But Sardia assured them 
 that they would find the princess at home ; and pressing 
 an electric bell, the door opened as it were of its own
 
 94 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 accord, and they were ushered into a smaller compart 
 ment which, in all but atmosphere, breathed of a polar 
 winter. Soft white bearskins, couches, and hangings of 
 richest white tapestries and plush, made it a seeming 
 snow bower, while the clear glow of an amber light shed 
 a subdued radiance over the whole. A woman dressed 
 in the costume of a Russian peasant assisted them with 
 their light wraps, while Sardia put the gentlemen in 
 charge of Signor Zante s man, who happened to be 
 present. Laughter and the thrumming of some stringed 
 instrument came from the drawing-room, and when they 
 entered, a few guests, some of whom were known to 
 them, rose or turned and gave a general greeting. 
 
 The princess was enveloped in a robe of rich yellow 
 satin, which was lined with black brocaded silk, embroid 
 ered deeply with rare Persian colors along the edges, 
 and held by a cord and immense tassels of knotted silks 
 studded with precious stones. Nothing could impress 
 one with more simplicity, yet the wonderful quality of 
 the fabric was worthy of the wearer. Her small expres 
 sive hands with their untiring gestures were ornamented 
 with but one stone, a sapphire of immense size and 
 beauty, carved intaglio with the asp, crown, and tau of 
 her crest. 
 
 By her side was a little table on which stood a massive 
 samovar, of a rough gray ware bound and lined with 
 beaten gold, under which the blue flame of a spirit-lamp 
 danced and flickered. The fragrant steam of the tea 
 mingled itself with the little puffs of Turkish tobacco 
 which issued from her mouth as she deftly arranged 
 glasses clear as air, but tinted all shades and colors, 
 and dishes of little cakes unlike anything they had ever 
 seen. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " she exclaimed, as if continuing a conver 
 sation interrupted by their entrance. " To me the sexes
 
 MADAME S MARRIAGE 95 
 
 are utterly indifferent. Spirit is spirit, whether it be in 
 man or woman, bird or donkey. I like people for what 
 they are in soul, not because they wear a coat or a robe ; " 
 continuing to busily prepare the tea. " You Americans, 
 no doubt, will want a little sweet. Here is the honey ; 
 but only one drop, one drop ! " warningly. " My dear 
 madame," turning graciously to Helen, " will you drink 
 with me ? This tea will exhilarate us. We can talk. 
 Ah, you like it ! " as pleased as a child. 
 
 "But you could not always have liked people irre 
 spective of sex, could you ? " questioned Kalfe, who had 
 taken up the idea. " Do you love no one ? " 
 
 " I love, I, a woman of seventy, love ! " energetically. 
 
 " But in your youth." 
 
 "This is my youth. Some of my ancestors lived, hale 
 and hearty, to be one hundred and thirty years old. It 
 is in the historical records of our family. But, no ; 
 I always hated men. No ; I never loved in my life. I 
 could riot. I am incapable of partiality. I know noth 
 ing about it. To love implies personal preference ; " 
 and she puffed a vigorous rebuttal from her tightened 
 lips. 
 
 " Yet you married," said Sardia. 
 
 " Married ! Yes ; and how ? At sixteen. Against 
 my will ; forced to it by scoldings, threatenings, and 
 persuasions. Married to an old man, old enough to 
 be my grandfather ; a vile creature faugh ! because 
 he had money. But I paid them back. I protected my 
 self. I crept under my grandmother s couch as soon as 
 we came back from the church. I found a keen stiletto, 
 and declared if they came near me I would kill myself. 
 I shall never forget my old nurse and my grandmother 
 kneeling and praying in their satin wedding-dresses on 
 the floor beside me, while I curled myself up in one cor 
 ner under the couch like a kitten. But I would not come
 
 96 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 out. Hunger drove me out in a day or two, but they saw 
 I was desperate. They let me alone three weeks, and 
 then, after being utterly worn out by their entreaties, I 
 was persuaded to go to the old prince s palace. Did I not 
 lead him a life ? My savage scorn, my insults, my horror 
 of him, he called pretty childish petulance. I taught 
 him I was a tigress. I struck him, and one day, goaded 
 to fury, I caught up a large silver candelabra and flung it 
 at him, knocking him down. I hoped I had killed him. 
 I rushed out, hailed a sledge, and rode as far as the 
 gates, and then procured a horse and galloped across 
 country to my grandfather s house. I demanded protec 
 tion. I got it. That ended it." 
 
 In her vehement and dramatic gestures, and the force- 
 fulness and earnestness of this story, she seemed to live 
 it all over again. Yet at the end she laughed. They 
 all laughed too. 
 
 Guy drawled in his slow, diverted way, 
 
 " I supposed you would say the prince demanded pro 
 tection. What became of him ? " 
 
 " I don t know. He was dead long ago. The worms 
 have him, thank Christu ! " with a sigh of relief. 
 
 The tea was certainly animating. In all corners of 
 the apartment could be heard bright and earnest conver 
 sation. Many were foreign, or could speak several 
 languages, so one standing silent would be surprised at 
 the conglomeration of sounds. Beginning a sentence in 
 French, the princess would frequently finish it in Eus- 
 sian or English or Italian, as she turned to Signor Zante > 
 Helen, or Sybil, whose Italian was as beautifully correct 
 as that of those who speak the unadulterated music of 
 Dante. 
 
 If the Princess Menshlkoff had ever known Sybil 
 before this evening, neither gave the least sign. And 
 although a wary and attentive look frequently crossed the
 
 PESSIMISM 97 
 
 latter s face, which was singularly pale and mysteriously 
 attractive to Ralfe, her manner was tinctured with a 
 certain pride which rendered her even more fascinating. 
 The unconscious courtesy, which seemed to be the only 
 possible atmosphere of this "Bohemian" house, was 
 extended to her, with neither more nor less attention 
 than that given to the others. 
 
 Ralfe still referred to the topic which first interested 
 him. He turned to Signor Zante and remarked, 
 
 " Our hostess in denying love for mankind seems to 
 advocate a pessimistic philosophy which tends to have 
 a depressing effect on me. Naturally the philosophy of 
 persons and things, offered by so distinguished a thinker, 
 must echo more or less loudly in any mind. Facts are 
 facts, I know, but they may be interpreted rightly or 
 misinterpreted. So far as I am concerned, I believe it 
 to be just as absurd to have no faith at all in humanity 
 as to have absolute faith in it. Nature has given us the 
 power of discrimination, and a philosophy which is all 
 pessimistic is as vicious and insufficient as one that is 
 all optimism." 
 
 " No doubt," replied the signor gravely, " by the con 
 templation of evil, we insist on the assimilation of our 
 minds with the bad aspects of life to the exclusion of 
 the elements that might be agreeable to our finer and 
 more beneficent traits. But the princess spoke in the 
 personal, not the general sense, I am sure." 
 
 Attracting her attention he said, " Madame, you have 
 given the impression to Mr. Fielding that you have a 
 pessimistic view of humanity, because you cannot love. 
 But I do not discover in you that morbidity which 
 prevents that nice discrimination between right and 
 wrong, which has been singular to you ; " and he 
 smiled. 
 
 " I pessimistic ! " she exclaimed, gravely. " Not so
 
 98 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 much ! not so much ! He who has a cold, raw, merciless 
 theory of life is not possessed of a wholesome, elevated, 
 and strong mind." 
 
 " And who bitterly believes there is no sweetness in 
 existence, cannot possess sweet and beautiful attributes 
 of character," added Ralfe. " There is no affinity exist 
 ing between him and the better part. He is a dead and 
 decayed portion of the great, complicated system of the 
 universe, and he and not the system will be cast off by 
 inexorable law." 
 
 Helen had been listening to this conversation with 
 cheeks flushing and paling with excitement. " My dear 
 sir," she addressed Ralfe formally, " it does not do to 
 speak of any individual from one side only. If a man 
 is cold and hopeless, if he doubts the goodness of human 
 nature, if he speaks bitterly of the selfishness of his 
 kind, if he seems raw and merciless and predicts an ex 
 tinction of a race he seems to hate, ask him what made 
 him so. Find out what trials he has been through. See 
 if his childhood was sad, gloomy, and restrained. In 
 quire if his young manhood was harsh, unfriended, and 
 disappointing ; then go back to his parents and see what 
 black blood of hereditary vices they poured into his in 
 nocent and helpless veins. Then you may say that he 
 shall be cast off, and the universe of matter and being 
 shall go on, if you think just, and perhaps he will be 
 cast off; but again, perhaps he will be taken into the 
 pitiful bosom of the Supreme Power, and covered and 
 sheltered by the almighty hollow of God s merciful 
 hand." 
 
 They looked at her in surprise, for her deep eyes 
 were moist with unshed tears. Sardia gave her a sympa 
 thetic glance. " Maybe she knows some one whom she 
 is secretly defending," he thought. 
 
 The princess nodded approvingly towards her. "Let
 
 A TRUE INCIDENT 99 
 
 us not cherish pessimism," she said ; " and yet let us re 
 member that the world is made up of two words, bitter, 
 sweet. I cannot quite agree with Mr. Fielding that a char 
 acter like that which he describes is incapable of assimi 
 lating fine and beautiful things, or that it is necessarily 
 devoid of original excellences. He need not be wholly 
 deaf, dumb, and dead to the glories of those laws which 
 work so steadily. Truly, I cannot consign him to obliv 
 ion and annihilation with that cool assumption that one 
 or the other must go, as they say in your California of 
 the Chinese ! " and she smiled pleasantly towards Ralfe, 
 who, although half defeated, smiled back. 
 
 "It seems to me," said Helen more quietly, looking 
 with grateful eyes at madame, " that even dead matter 
 (if it be dead) has in it elements of mercy as well as 
 laws of inexorable justice ; else why does Nature grow 
 roses out of a dung-heap and wear away her adamantine 
 rocks with her softly flowing streams ? Surely, from 
 the very ground we can draw lessons of material benefi 
 cence ! For it casts off nothing, but takes us in our cor 
 ruption, and hides us away with a loving tenderness, 
 only at last to transform our foetidness into the delicate 
 fragrance of the violets which cover our graves." 
 
 "It seems to me," remarked Sardia, quietly, "that 
 the difference between the philosophical creeds of Mr- 
 and Mrs. Fielding is that hers turns constantly around 
 the individual as the centre of a broad circle, whereas 
 he sees the individual as a point on the circumference." 
 
 " It is well to be in a country where women may be 
 allowed an opinion at all," remarked the princess, lightly, 
 "and truly you are so independent such queens of 
 your houses here so sure of deference ! Even the 
 young girls seem to rule their own lives." 
 
 One of the guests whose eyes twinkled with amuse 
 ment replied, " Yes, I happen to know a true story of an
 
 100 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 American girl, the incident occurring quite recently. 
 Now rnind you, we are speaking strictly of the individual. 
 There is no general application. A friend of mine who 
 happens to be the most eligible catch in one of the great 
 Western cities, and who persists in remaining a bachelor, 
 although for at least twelve years he has been besieged 
 with matronly and girlish attention, not feeling in ex 
 cellent health went to the Hot Springs in the season. 
 There he saw a beautiful young girl, fresh as a rose, ex 
 quisitely dressed and surrounded with lovers. She was 
 so young, sweet, and childlike, seemingly without a 
 worldly idea, that his seared heart stirred within him, 
 and he felt a strange longing to read her innocent heart. 
 He was soon introduced and hesitatingly requested 
 her to take a little stroll with him. She took out her 
 tiny watch, studied the time a moment, and said, Well, 
 I m engaged at four and engaged at six, but I could give 
 you an hour at five. The delighted mamma smiled 
 approval, and so it was settled. 
 
 "When the time came they went a little way from the 
 hotel, and sat down under a tree. He flung himself at her 
 feet and began to talk. But she did not seem to respond. 
 He tried art, amusements, the opera, the springs, and even 
 flirtation, in vain, until he finally said, in his softest tones, 
 kissing the tips of her pretty glove with considerable en 
 thusiasm, Tell me all about your own sweet self, thinking 
 that, being a woman, that topic at least would interest 
 her. She looked him very pleasantly in the eyes, then, 
 dropping her lashes, said, I m sure I don t know what 
 I can tell you about myself. There isn t much to tell 
 but cheerfully and earnestly, I can give you 
 the very best of references. My dear child, said the 
 eligible gently, as soon as he could catch his breath, 
 your youth and beauty are quite sufficient references 
 for what I may require of you, and escorted her back
 
 LAUGHTER 101 
 
 to her six-o clock engagement. He afterwards remarked 
 dryly that she could easily have invented a new idea 
 which would save considerable trouble. A young lady 
 should have printed on her card, besides her name, the 
 name of her banker, her family physician, and any dis 
 tinguished ancestor whom she chose, with the name of 
 her pastor, so that a man could see at a glance what sort 
 of a wife she would make and whether she would do." 
 
 It was impossible not to be merry over this " o er true 
 tale," and the princess, who had been " studying " every 
 body and every word, laughed outright. To say she 
 laughed, was the same as to say " Laughter was present," 
 for of all clear, mirthful, rollicking laughter, hers was the 
 essence. She seemed, indeed, the Genius of the mood 
 she displayed at all times, so intense was her vitality. 
 She now exclaimed, " Ah, you Americans ! How spick 
 and span you are ! " 
 
 " Spick and span ! " cried every one, amused ; " why, 
 what can she mean ? " 
 
 "Why, queer, droll, brand-new, fresh, fire-new, origi 
 nal," said she. "I hunted all those words up this very 
 day, and spick and span means each.- All your say 
 ings are so bright, " she went on enthusiastically, " but 
 sometimes you drop your letters in a curious way. 
 Now the other clay I noticed an example. I saw a 
 w T oman in the street hop to one side at least six feet. 
 She cried out very loudly, Sakes alive ! I looked to 
 see why she called so, and found she had almost stepped 
 on a little green snake. It was alive, to be sure. But 
 tell me, why did she drop that letter ? Was it her 
 agitation ? Why did she not say, Snakes alive ? " 
 
 This serious appeal set every one in a roar. She 
 frowned nervously, and then gave it up with a sigh, 
 murmuring, " I am too tedious to learn the oddities of 
 your idioms."
 
 102 SAEDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " You are far from being dull, madame, I assure you," 
 said Ralfe courteously, coming to her rescue. " We 
 laugh because you are unconsciously so witty." 
 
 At this moment some one called attention to a little 
 painting which hung almost hidden by a curtain, and 
 Lulu, who had been watching the princess with the lov 
 able curiosity of a child, glided up to her, and taking up 
 her delicate old hand, said softly, " Madame, may I not 
 look at your pretty ring ? I see it is engraved with the 
 same crest which encircles yonder window." 
 
 " Certainly my dear," taking it off. " It is a sapphire 
 given me in India, and the great lord who presented it 
 assured me it was the genuine tear of Brahma." 
 
 " The tear of Brahma ! " repeated the girl, not com 
 prehending. 
 
 "Yes; there is an Indian legend that Brahma, the 
 Creator, once committed a sin, that he might know the 
 torments of remorse and thus be able to sympathize with 
 mortals. But the moment he had committed it he began 
 repeating the Mantras, or prayers of purification, and 
 in his grief, dropped on earth a tear, the hottest that 
 ever fell from an eye ; and from it was formed the first 
 sapphire." 
 
 " And this stone is that tear ! " holding it up in super 
 stitious awe. 
 
 " My child," said madame, " I fear great lords in 
 India are capable of exaggerations as well as other 
 people." 
 
 Lulu looked disappointed. "I might have known," 
 she said innocently. " But what a poetic legend ! Is 
 there any peculiar property in the stone ? " 
 
 " The Buddhists assert that the sapphire produces 
 peace of mind, equanimity, and chases all evil thoughts 
 by establishing a healthy circulation in man. So does 
 an electric battery, with its well-directed fluid, say our
 
 THE SAPPHIRE. 103 
 
 electricians. The sapphire, say the Buddhists, will open 
 barred doors and dwellings for the spirit of man ; it 
 produces a desire for prayer, and brings with it more 
 peace than any other gem ; but he who would wear it 
 must lead a pure and holy life." 
 
 The evening passed without any other event than the 
 agreeable chatter promised over the tea. When the 
 ladies took leave, the princess followed them into 
 the snowy reception-room, and to Helen s entreaties, 
 gave a half-affirmative reply that she would some time 
 visit " Spray View," at least in the evening, but insisted 
 that no other company should be invited to meet her. 
 
 " You know I am an old woman, darling, so old, ugly, 
 and fleshy that I find it impossible to carry my great 
 elephant s body about. I find it best to stay in my own 
 little den and growl at all the world ; " but her large, 
 good-natured face was full of warm feeling as she 
 tightly clasped Helen s hand. 
 
 At that late hour the moon was just rising, and they 
 all preferred to walk. The carriages were sent on, and 
 the group of ladies and gentlemen wandered along at 
 their leisure. 
 
 " Guy," whispered Lulu to her escort, " I have de 
 cided about the ring." 
 
 " Have you, darling ? I am glad. May I get it for 
 you right away ? " 
 
 She hung on his arm a trifle heavier and looked 
 down. 
 
 " Can I have just what I want ? " said she. 
 
 " Any thing in the world ! " replied Guy, with all the 
 open-handeduess of a lover. 
 
 " Then I want a sapphire. The princess says they 
 bring holy thoughts and peace." 
 
 " How sweet she is ! " thought Guy, " dear little inno 
 cent, full of holy thoughts and holy deeds. How I love
 
 104 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 you, love you ! " he murmured. " Yes, you shall have a 
 sapphire, but it can never match yoiir eyes." 
 
 " I don t think this has been such a wonderful evening 
 after all," exclaimed Lulu, disappointedly. " I expected 
 the princess would talk such grand things that we should 
 all sit still and listen. But she did not say a word to 
 me that I could not understand. She spoke as simply as 
 anybody." 
 
 Guy smiled at her artlessness. " Of course she did. 
 Have you not often noticed that when we have grand 
 anticipations of any thing, the reality seldom approaches 
 them ? " 
 
 " But I have grand anticipations about you ! " she ex 
 claimed, darting aside and looking him doubtfully in the 
 face. 
 
 Guy caught her back to the path. " Lulu, you are the 
 most tantalizing little witch, you turn a man s words 
 topsy-tur " The next was lost in a confused 
 murmur. 
 
 The others strolled along almost in silence. Helen and 
 Sardia were the last to reach the house, and they lingered 
 for a moment on the great stairway to say some latest 
 words. In parting she gave him her hand with a strong, 
 frank pressure, and looked at him with so sweet a 
 glance of respect and admiration that he could not control 
 himself, and, trembling, breathed rather than said, 
 " Helen ! "
 
 THE STAG PARTY 105 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A THOROUGHBRED. 
 
 " The accident of an accident." 
 
 Lord Thurlow. 
 
 ON the following morning all the gentlemen made 
 themselves ready to spend the day on board Sardia s 
 yacht. They laughingly declared that women would be 
 in the way, and that they were to have a genuine " stag 
 party," uninterrupted by so much as a glimpse of a pet 
 ticoat. Signer Zante had accepted an invitation to join 
 them, and as they all bowled along in the various car 
 riages down to the wharf, many turned to gaze enviously 
 or admiringly at the equipages and the men. 
 
 " We shall not get up steam to-day," Sardia had said, 
 " it is fine sailing weather ! " 
 
 Guy, whose tastes ran somewhat to horses, had sent 
 for a pair of gay " steppers " from a plantation he owned 
 down in the heart of old Kentucky, and as he flung the 
 reins to the groom, stood watching them trot up the 
 street with a connoisseur s critical glance. 
 
 "Fine creatures," said Charlie Vane. "What a glo 
 rious animal a horse is ! If they only had a mind where 
 would man stand in creation ? " 
 
 " A mind," said Guy, in evident surprise, as they fol 
 lowed the others. " Some of them know a great deal 
 more than the men who own them. Why, my Lady 
 Lucy could tell me a thousand things I don t know, if 
 she could only speak. She is just intellect, and nothing
 
 100 SAUDI A: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 else. A power of reasoning and remembering which gives 
 her a great advantage over others of less character." 
 
 " Character in a horse," said Charlie, incredulously. 
 
 "I tell you," cried Guy, in some excitement, "that 
 character is the right word to apply in her case, or in 
 the case of a good many splendid creatures I ve known 
 about. Take Harry Bassett, for instance, one of the 
 best thoroughbreds I ever saw run. Upon the track, 
 when his rivals were plunging and rearing with excite 
 ment and impatience, his calm sense of power and per 
 fect confidence in himself made him unusually quiet and 
 dignified in demeanor. He seemed to look upon victory 
 as a matter of course ; and the fine manner in which he 
 would draw away from his competitors, with no urging 
 save a light word of command, proved how fully he had 
 his body under control, and what a thorough comprehen 
 sion of the situation he possessed. His adaptability to 
 situations was like the tact of a well-bred person. Noth 
 ing disturbed him or made him uneasy. Like a man of 
 the world, who has been tossed by circumstances from 
 the busy din of ever-noisy cities to the breathless soli 
 tudes of the eternal hills, from an Arab camp to a Paris 
 salon, he accepted all positions with the utmost noncha 
 lance ; and in travelling at full speed by rail, in crossing 
 ferries from point to point, in changing from stable to 
 stable, in the midst of the deafening roar of a crowd of 
 half-maddened spectators, or left to run alone in a quiet 
 country pasture, he was fearless, steady, and self-pos 
 sessed, notwithstanding his nervous temperament and 
 inbred energy and fire." 
 
 The gentlemen had gradually grouped together as Guy 
 talked vehemently on, and as they entered the little row- 
 boat, manned by the sailors of the yacht, in their dark 
 flannel suits and scarlet stars embroidered on ribbons 
 and collars, Signer Zante remarked slowly,
 
 A THOROUGHBRED 107 
 
 " I fancy you are talking of a racer, although I did 
 net catch the beginning of the conversation. To tell 
 the truth, I am not at all posted on the subject of thor 
 oughbreds, and I beg to know what is a thoroughbred ? 
 I know they speak of dogs, horses, and cattle in the 
 same way." 
 
 " I believe the word may equally apply to human 
 beings," said Sardia. 
 
 " Yes ; you are right ! " Guy assented, glowing with 
 enthusiasm ; " the world over, a thoroughbred is a thor- 
 OMgh-blood. A creature made, physically, intellectually, 
 or morally, of the finest fibre ; a God-natured being 
 worthy of association with the highest." 
 
 < I can never forget the morning when I first asked 
 that question," pleasantly observed Ralfe, pulling out 
 his cigar-case. ".We had driven up the boulevard and 
 over the bridge, out into that country space beyond New 
 York, where Jerome Park, the great racing-track with 
 its rolling greenery and breezy lanes, its sunny stables 
 and Mayflower-scented woods, gave to our senses, after 
 a winter housing between stone and brick walls, a new 
 taste of paradise. Standing by one of the stables, with 
 its yellow straw and its grinning darky boys, its many 
 protruding heads of fillies and stallions thrust from open 
 doorways, and its sweet, fresh smell of hay, I said to 
 the owner, Colonel, what is a thoroughbred ? 
 
 " Hi, Jim, thar ! Trot out Harry Bassett ! Bring Mm 
 round even thar, said he, and pointed without another 
 word to his favorite. By Jove, gentlemen, there was no 
 need ! It was a picture which I was forced to contem 
 plate in silence. A word, a sound, seemed for a moment 
 to torture me, so harmonious was the spell of that vision. 
 I hardly dare attempt to tell you what he was like, but 
 in color he was a golden chestnut. As he stood in the 
 sunshine, T involuntarily glanced around to find his
 
 108 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 reflection, so surely did liis burnished coat seem to give 
 forth a lustre of its own. His inane and tail were 
 shaded from a darker hue to a fair tint on the edges, 
 and there wasn t the slightest wave or curl, but each 
 like glancing silk hung neatly " 
 
 "A powerful proof in themselves of his stainless 
 breeding," put in Guy. 
 
 "The lightness of his head and neck, with their in 
 imitable pencilling, was only equalled by the chest, which 
 wide and deep, held a great heart whose perfect action 
 must have been one of his finest points. His back, ribs 
 and hind quarters made for weight, spring, and power; 
 the elbows and lower arms ; strong broad knees and 
 pasterns of medium length and great strength ; the feet 
 excellently proportioned to the limbs, all spoke of 
 muscles like steel, veins through which the richest blood 
 was flowing, and bones like polished ivory beneath the 
 radiant skin. The head, whose pride of carriage was 
 only equalled by the gracefulness of its every motion, 
 was surmounted by ears which seemed to be the last 
 fine touch from the hand of Dame Nature before she 
 sent her darling into the world. The eyes, in which the 
 ardor, determination, and mettle of all his wonderful 
 ancestry appeared concentrated, glowed with that scar 
 let light which seemed struck from the fire and energy 
 of his own courageous spirit. When gazing on that 
 remarkable creature, I recognized the possibility of per 
 fection, and, turning to the colonel, I murmured, I am 
 answered. A thoroughbred is the climax of all good 
 influences. " 
 
 "Your definition, if applied to human beings, must 
 narrow the circle to a very limited number," thought 
 fully observed Signor Zante, as they finally had boarded 
 the yacht and were softly gliding out into the stream. 
 " To be thorough-Wood is difficult in a new nation, and
 
 109 
 
 especially in one made up of such odd admixtures as we 
 find in America. Good influences is a wide term also, 
 and means, first of all, leisure and wealth. While a 
 people are necessarily engaged in the pursuit of bread, 
 clothing, and shelter, or the immediate comforts beyond 
 that, they have little time to devote to that culture 
 which rounds character and polishes manners." 
 
 " I do not know that I shall make myself understood," 
 answered Ralfe, "but I consider the engineer who, 
 rough, uneducated save in the make-up of his engine 
 and the rules of the road, sees before him certain death, 
 but firmly stands at his post and puts on the brakes, 
 forgetful of all but duty and the precious trust he holds, 
 is a thorough-bred. The woman who nurses patients 
 with yellow-fever; the man whose moral courage rejects 
 the most subtle temptation ; the woman whose self- 
 respect and virtuous pride keeps her stainless, and a 
 queen amidst the horrors of poverty, vulgarity, and 
 abuse, these, and a thousand others who retain unal 
 tered the noble elements of character inherited, or given 
 as an especial grace to them, are thorough-bred and 
 thorough-blood, if born in a gutter and dying in neglect. 
 They are the pure and sweet of spirit who shall see 
 God." 
 
 Sardia had hearkened to the conversation in almost ab 
 solute silence. He had quietly given his orders to the 
 captain, who had listened as silently as the Sphinx, but 
 who instantly carried out to the letter the wishes of 
 his employer. 
 
 Apparently indifferent, and occasionally moving away, 
 their host for the day seemed to take no interest in 
 a chat not especially including himself, but he missed 
 not a word of Kalfe s earnest discourse, and while idly 
 watching the smoke which lightly drifted from his cigar, 
 thought wistfully, " He is worthy of even Helen. No
 
 110 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 wonder she loves him, for she need not idealize him. 
 His reality is better than the highest imaginings of some 
 women. Yet I believe all women idealize in spite of 
 themselves ! And if he returned her love he would not 
 fall short. But the Visonti ! Blind, unreasonable fellow 
 that he is, with all his fine perceptions. He is in the 
 net of his own poetic illusions, and drawn by her mag 
 netism to a fancied transport of love. But if he ever 
 finds her out ! I can conceive a terrible reaction. His 
 patience and loyalty are almost unbounded, but if they 
 go " and he made a magnificent gesture of repudiation. 
 
 Lines were now brought out, and the captain respect 
 fully assured them that they would soon run over an 
 excellent fishing-ground. The breeze was so gentle that 
 trolling was possible, the yacht moving along at an easy 
 speed over a placid sea. Lunch was announced in the 
 midst of their sport, which continued good, and as no 
 one admitted hunger it was not until an hour later that 
 they finally gathered about the table. So exquisite was 
 this dainty meal, from Julien soup, clear as drops of 
 topaz, to the dessert of fruits glace, fairy conceptions in 
 cakes and ices, and wines glowing with the sunshine 
 bottled long ago in far-away vineyards, that Charlie 
 Vane sighed a long breath of artistic satisfaction, and 
 said most prosaically, 
 
 " I am just not hungry." 
 
 " That is the way I intended you should leave lunch," 
 laughed Sardia; "but I assure you at dinner you shall 
 be filled to overflowing, pressed down, and running 
 over, if I dare to badly quote from a good book." 
 
 They were soon stretched out on easy sea-chairs or in 
 hammocks swung under .the gay awning, and the a puff- 
 puff " of their cigars was mingled with all sorts of talk. 
 
 " By the way," said Guy, again referring to the topic 
 of horses, " why can t we all take a run and attend the
 
 "MAN OVERBOARD" 111 
 
 races ? We can invite the ladies and have a jolly time. 
 What do you say, Ralfe ? Would Helen go ? " 
 
 "I haven t the slightest idea," he answered, smiling 
 indifferently, " but for my own part nothing would suit 
 me better. The last race I saw was the Derby, and 
 I lost seventy -five pounds just as e easy." 
 
 As they chatted a stiff breeze sprang up and soon 
 ruffled the waters, so that the seething brine sang as 
 they flew along ; white caps tipped every rolling peak 
 with froth, and the smaller craft began to put in towards 
 home, rocking and dancing as if with delight. All at 
 once Vane cried out, "Look, look at that little bird! 
 It is a land-bird, I am sure. See how weary he is ! 
 What a melancholy cheep ! Why, let s catch him ! " for 
 the tiny creature, driven by a sudden gust, almost 
 touched the sail. 
 
 Ralfe sprang forward, pulling his cap off his head, and 
 had almost captured the fluttering fugitive when a lurch 
 of the vessel sent him off his balance, and in a second 
 he had plunged overboard, and far down into the chilly 
 waters. 
 
 All sprang to the side, and for an instant were dumb 
 founded. He had disappeared so suddenly it had seemed 
 impossible. 
 
 " Good God, Ralfe is overboard ! " shouted Guy, tug 
 ging at his clothing, while Sardia was already divesting 
 himself of shoes and coat while giving orders in a voice 
 that sounded like a trumpet. In a moment he had 
 espied Ralfe s head, and with an agile spring, was over 
 the stern and lustily swimming towards him. But the 
 head had disappeared again, and soon they saw him give 
 a dive and go under. It seemed an eternity to the 
 friends before both reappeared, Sardia supporting his 
 companion on his arm but laboring considerably. The 
 jolly-boat had been swung off, and in a few moments
 
 112 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 was pulling towards them. But the yacht had flown a 
 long distance before the " Heave to ! " of the captain 
 had been obeyed, so that the two men were very far be 
 hind. 
 
 " Ralfe is no swimmer, even in smooth water," said 
 Guy, in that hushed tone which betokened his horrible 
 apprehension, as with white faces they leaned anxiously 
 watching the exciting chase of the brawny sailors. 
 " He doesn t seem to be helping himself at all. If they 
 were not loaded with clothing, but Sardia is a regular 
 fish, and as strong as an ox. By Jove ! look at that. 
 He has actually gotten Ralfe half out of water. But 
 what is the matter with the poor felloAV ? He hangs as 
 limp Charlie, Charlie, it cannot be he is drowned ? " 
 And they grasped each other with wild eyes and breath 
 less lips in an agony of suspense. But it was not long 
 before they saw both their friends dragged into the boat, 
 and soon they were assisting Sardia to carry Ralfe, who 
 was unconscious and ghastly as if dead, to the cabin. 
 He was immediately undressed and placed on a broad 
 lounge, while every one performed some necessary office 
 for his recovery. 
 
 "He is not drowned," Sardia said, confidently. "He 
 said Old boy ! a second before he closed his eyes. 
 I am sure we can bring him around in a few moments ! 
 And while some of the men vigorously rubbed and 
 chafed his skin, their host forced a small glass of brandy 
 between his teeth and applied his smelling-salts to the 
 delicate nostrils. But their efforts proved useless for 
 so long that they all became very much alarmed. They 
 used all the prescribed methods for reviving a drowned 
 person, but he remained cold, white and motionless, 
 without any sign of life. " He is not drowned ! " per 
 sisted Sardia, as they for an instant ceased their efforts 
 and stood with horror and despair written upon their
 
 HE WILL LIVE 113 
 
 faces. "Perhaps it is his heart," suggested Signer 
 Zante ; " let us pound it thoroughly, and endeavor once 
 again, with all our might, to get up a circulation. Make 
 a strong mustard plaster," he ordered. 
 
 After these directions had been carried out, their joy 
 was unbounded to see Ralfe s eyes slowly open and a 
 faint sigh escape his lips. Guy and Sardia wrung each 
 other s hands in silence, while tears ran down Charlie 
 Vane s cheeks. 
 
 " May the Eternal Spirit be praised ! " solemnly ejac 
 ulated Signor Zante, doffing his hat, which he had for 
 gotten, and wiping the perspiration from his forehead. 
 He will live ! " He stood gazing at the fine pale face for 
 a few moments, and then turning away with consider 
 able emotion half murmured, " I am glad. His life was 
 gentle, and the elements so mixed in him, that Nature 
 might stand up and say to all the world, This was a 
 man!" Then smiled at the familiar quotation. 
 
 Sardia suggested that they should now remove Ralfe 
 to a berth, and after making him comfortable, they all 
 left him to his host, lest any excitement should prove 
 injurious. On going up to the deck they felt a new 
 glory in the sunshine and a fresher enjoyment of the 
 afternoon breeze, which now steadily sent them onward 
 towards the town. Not one but felt something precious 
 had been saved to them. Ralfe s nature was so winning, 
 yet so quietly strong, that he gained the true friendship 
 of all who knew him. Suddenly Guy burst into a laugh. 
 He had seen Sardia s .valet. " Oh ! " he cried ; " I hadn t 
 thought of it, but Sardia is as wet as a merman now. 
 His clothes are dripping with salt water. Go down and 
 attend to your master, Jaques. What are you thinking 
 of?" 
 
 After a little Sardia appeared, fresh and vigorous. 
 His eyes were almost black, and his cheeks ruddy with
 
 114 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 the exercise and excitement of the hour. " He is asleep, 
 and will be all right by the time we get home. What 
 do you think were the first words he uttered ? " 
 
 "Can t tell." 
 
 " Don t know, of course." 
 
 " Thanked you, I supposed." 
 
 " Why, not at all," said Sardia, laughing. " He fin 
 ished the sentence he broke off in the water. Old boy, 
 did you catch the bird ? said he, just like a child." 
 
 " I wish we had caught it after all this row," Charlie 
 Vane said, regretfully. " There s Kalfe s cap ; shouldn t 
 wonder if twas under that." 
 
 He stooped and picked up the cap, and sure enough, 
 by some chance, the bird had fallen under it. They 
 were all surprised, and grouped themselves about the 
 tiny brown thing, looking down upon it in silence. For 
 it was lying on its back, its pretty wings stretched out, 
 its graceful head put under in a pitiful way. The little 
 swallow was dead.
 
 THE AWARKENING 115 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 UNREQUITED LOVE. 
 
 " Alone ! that worn-out word, 
 So idly spoken, and so coldly heard ; 
 Yet all that poets sing and grief hath known 
 Of hopes laid waste, knells in that word Alone ! " 
 
 Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 "And vain ! yes, vain ! 
 For me too is it, having so much striven 
 
 To see this fine snare take thee, and thy soul 
 Which should have climbed to mine, and shared my heaven, 
 Spent on a lower loveliness, whose whole 
 Passion of love were but a parody 
 Of that kept here for thee." 
 
 Edwin Arnold. 
 
 " How still the night ! How dark the sky ! 
 How lonely on my bed I lie, 
 O God, how near Thy love should be, 
 To comfort me, to comfort me ! " 
 
 RALFE murmured these words which he had written 
 long ago with a strangely pathetic accent. He was lying 
 in his great chamber, as he supposed, quite alone. He 
 had slowly awakened from a state of unconsciousness 
 which he little knew had lasted many days. Very grad 
 ually and quietly the last scene he could remember stole 
 over his mind. He had been lying in the berth, of 
 Sardia s yacht ; and now the pretty clock by his side 
 rung its muffled church chime of two solemn strokes, 
 and his room, lit only by the rosy gleaming of an open 
 fire, together with the melancholy sigh of the wind and
 
 116 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 the dashing of the rain against the windows, made it 
 seem to him as if he had slept a Rip Van Winkle slum 
 ber far into the winter. Doubting his own personality, 
 yet dreamily aware that something unusual must have 
 happened to him, his heart grew cold and uneasy, with 
 that vague horror and undefmable dread which is apt to 
 come in the night with unaccustomed weakness. He 
 fancied he was in the midst of some mysterious calam 
 ity, and with an aspiration like a cry, he breathed, 
 
 " O God, how near Thy love should be, 
 To comfort me, to comfort me ! " 
 
 Before he had finished, Helen, like a living Love, stood 
 beside him, smiling down into his eyes with a look so 
 thankful, so glad and so tender, that it seemed to his 
 half-aroused imagination that she was an angel sent in 
 stantly in answer to his prayer. 
 
 " Oh," she said, with a fragrant sigh, " you are here 
 again ! " 
 
 Her voice was so full of good cheer, strength, health, 
 that he felt as if struck by a fresh breeze. 
 
 " Where have I been ? " he asked, smiling rather 
 feebly, and taking the warm, fair hand that smoothed 
 his pillow. 
 
 "In dreamland. In No-man s-land, leading an en 
 chanted life. You have not condescended to notice me 
 for more than a week." 
 
 " Have I been sick ? " he questioned practically, still 
 retaining her hand. 
 
 " A little, and horribly out of your head. You have 
 raved of birds, from the sparrow to the eagle, from the 
 ostrich to the common domestic fowl. It was as good 
 as a lesson in natural history to sit by and listen to you." 
 
 " And have you sat by and watched me ? " he asked 
 earnestly, but with difficulty, his throat seemed so
 
 "BECAUSE I AM YOUR WIFE" 117 
 
 strangely thick and his lips so very dry. " Why did 
 you not leave that to Wilson ? Have I had a score of 
 doctors and all that sort of thing ? " 
 
 " Wilson has certainly done his accustomed duties, and 
 you have had three physicians attending you," said Helen, 
 quietly. " I beg you will allow me to give you this," 
 and she offered him a tiny glass. 
 
 He swallowed the medicine without a protest, then 
 again took her hand and said even more earnestly, " But 
 it is long past midnight. Have you watched me and 
 taken care of me all this long time ? " He looked 
 straight into her eyes with a most embarrassing eagerness. 
 
 She turned her own aside for a second, and then look 
 ing at him calmly, answered, " Yes, I have watched with 
 you and taken care of you all the time." 
 
 " What did you do it for ? " he said, bluntly. 
 
 " Because I am your wife," she replied, growing visibly 
 pale. 
 
 He flung her hand aside, then caught it up again and 
 kissed it. 
 
 " It was your duty," he murmured, with a little scorn 
 ful laugh. " But I sincerely thank you for it. I did not 
 know that comrades took so much trouble for each other. 
 I shall know what to do when you are ill. I shall not 
 forget it." 
 
 Helen grew even a shade paler. He noticed her singu 
 lar expression and added languidly, for it seemed impos 
 sible to talk, his voice was so husky, " How tired you 
 must be ! Do go to bed. You certainly can leave me 
 now. I am quite conscious, and will take my medicines 
 as you direct if I am not asleep. I begin to feel very 
 well." 
 
 " Do you prefer it ? " she asked gently, turning away 
 with a hesitating step. " I thought I heard you say 
 something about being lonely."
 
 118 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 "No, I confess I do not prefer it," he answered 
 emphatically, half starting up. "It is very selfish, I 
 know, but some way I feel as if I could not be left by 
 myself. I wish you would sit by the fire until I am 
 asleep again. I am lonesome. I am very lonesome 
 indeed." 
 
 He sank back and suddenly turning closed his eyes 
 and remained silent. Helen returned to her seat by the 
 fire. The chill of a great gale made the soft glow most 
 agreeable. Thoughtfully she looked at the flickering 
 blaze that a sudden gust of wind would start amidst the 
 coals, and as the hour wore on, after a brief and solemn 
 thanksgiving for this precious life and reason restored 
 after unconsciously approaching a most appalling death, 
 a thanksgiving which lighted her beautiful face with a 
 touch of the heaven her soul for a moment entered, 
 she took counsel with her secret heart, and found there 
 in a dull but positive pain, which, crush as she would, 
 and hide from herself, as she had striven to do all these 
 long Aveeks, now asserted itself with inexpressible 
 power. " Out from behind your screen ! Come out and 
 speak the truth. It is useless to protest. I know all 
 and expose it," she seemed to call to her soul ; and to 
 meet her white, sober face, seemed to rise the spirit of 
 her own hidden love, which up to this moment she had 
 ever put aside, rejected, or ignored. 
 
 While watching beside her husband that day, she had 
 read " Antony and Cleopatra." Now the wonderful 
 story swept over her with exceptional significance. 
 Their supreme loves ending in a supreme tragedy up 
 lifted, sustained, inspired her. 
 
 Almost at the very moment when she was forced to 
 admit that she was possessed by a new passion full of 
 an infinite sorrow, yet tinctured with as deep and new 
 a joy, the vivid picture of those lovers arose in her mind
 
 LOVE ALONE CAX GRATIFY 119 
 
 and seemed to mingle itself with the rapture, yet the 
 anguish, of her feeling. " Be life what it may," she 
 slowly thought, "and it seems that nothing awaits mine 
 but a monotony, there is to be found in past loves, past 
 agonies, a something Avhich aids the soul to bear. With 
 the remembrance that one is not alone, but all humanity 
 have each and every one had in their time some touch of 
 this sorrow and suffering, the spirit becomes brave and 
 can be silent." For she did not endeavor to conceal from 
 herself what was so palpable, that Kalfe had no thought, 
 no emotion, no desire, which did not lay itself yearningly 
 at the feet of Sybil Visonti. 
 
 By the keen consciousness of her growing passion, 
 without the necessity of a word or look from them to 
 convince her, she had become aware that Ealfe s devotion 
 was no fancy, no trifling ardor of a moment. He was 
 under a sway imperious and sustained. It was a force 
 that moved his whole being with a magnetic spell which 
 as yet had been undisputed by any counter attraction, 
 and had but gained by long poetic dreams concentrated 
 on one object. For, neither glory nor work nor inven 
 tion could satisfy his vehement nature. Love alone 
 could gratify him, for beside his senses and heart, it 
 alone could content the brain. All his powers, imagina 
 tion among the rest, could find in it only, their true incli 
 nation, their best employment. She saw, through the 
 simple courtesies of his daily life, the dominating idea 
 that more and more absorbed it. He appeared to her 
 like one over whom an enchantment had been thrown, 
 whose fascination drew him on and conquered all 
 resistance. 
 
 "Can this be love ?" she reasoned. "Is this mighty 
 and majestic emotion which so exalts me, what they also 
 feel towards each other ? Or is it but a terrible passion, 
 which like a flood drowns all repugnance and all deli-
 
 120 SARDIA: A STOEY OF LOVE 
 
 cacy, all preconceived opinions, and all received princi 
 ples ! Can it be that for her sake he could forever keep 
 silence as I shall do for his, or would she, to grant him a 
 life of happiness, put aside her own ? For oh, to make 
 him happy, I will imperil my own great joy ! AYhat 
 does it matter if he drink the wine and I the lees ? He 
 will never know how I have endeavored to conform my 
 very intellect to his preferences ; how in my hidden 
 heart and brain I preserve and ever shall preserve the 
 worshipping attitude which his dear spirit has rendered 
 sweetest ! He will never dream while he sees me daily 
 in his presence, that I carry with me that unalterable 
 affection which would save him the slightest anxiety by 
 the giving up of the most perfect pleasure, which will 
 yield itself, fly, run, rejoice to yield itself for his slight 
 est advantage without one hope of recognition ! I can 
 do it. I will do it. For he has almost told me his 
 secret. He almost makes me his confidante. He thinks 
 me his comrade ! His true ( comrade I will be ! Into 
 his life shall be poured the brightest sunshine, be it 
 what he longs for or some still far sweeter joy ! " 
 
 For she had heard his waking words plainly enough, and 
 the aspiration, the murmured cry for comfort, touched her 
 sympathy to the quick. " How he loves her, and how 
 hopeless he thinks his position ! Tied to me by a bond 
 age which he never would have assumed had he believed 
 there was the least hope of winning her, he lies upon his 
 lonely bed and calls on God to comfort him ! If she sat 
 here what transport would light his face ! If she had 
 said I am your wife, he would have clasped her to his 
 heart in a bliss too deep for words ! Oh, my Father ! 
 Help me to do what is right ! If it be Thy will, let me 
 sacrifice myself to the uttermost ! If they love each 
 other, how much better do I love him ! If he suffers, 
 how much more do I feel unavailing anguish ! For he
 
 THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE 121 
 
 may yet be happy, but I, I ! Vain and brief is all 
 human consolation ! Dear Comforter, come to me, for I 
 too am very lonely." 
 
 She bowed her head on her hands and the great tears 
 fell one by one through her fingers. She forgot, for an 
 instant, and gave one quivering sob. Alas, what a Mas 
 ter one should be, who would express what that sob 
 meant, who could translate into words that one great 
 human emotion, the one essence of being, the one incen 
 tive to higher life, the one incomprehensible enthusiasm, 
 which having taken possession of the soul, wields over 
 it an unerring and inevitable rule, reducing it to utter 
 misery or raising it to proudest heights ! How inspired 
 should he be to utter in words that secret ecstasy, that 
 silent pang, that hoping, longing, fearing, despairing 
 sensation, which makes the body a furnace or an ice 
 berg ; the heart a trembling, panting thing, or strong 
 and brave as a lion ; the mind a confused and ungoverned 
 power, or a calm, clear, delicate perception ; the honor 
 at odds with itself or transcendent over matter ; the 
 whole being transformed, " changed in the twinkling of 
 an eye," to something sweeter, more desperate ; finer, 
 more uncalculating ; nobler, more reckless ; truer, more 
 confiding, fiercer, yet more weak ! 
 
 Poets in the universal language of genius try to teach 
 what loving means. Philosophers weigh human feelings 
 in the scales of their scientific researches, and attribute 
 it to race, color, climate, habit, food, and education. 
 Painters with rainbow pallets depict some phase of its 
 unlimited career ; priests point us to the one great Love 
 as model and pattern of it all ; Nature breathes it in her 
 sighing winds, her flowers, her beasts, her hills, her 
 streams ; but still the unsatisfied soul cries out, " Love is 
 uninterpretable ! Love hath no translation ! It hath 
 but one medium, personal contact! It hath but one
 
 122 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 language, the touch of lips, the clasping of hands, the 
 glances of fond eyes, the glowing of pressed cheeks, 
 the glory and beauty and radiance of the countenance, 
 the grace and freedom of the gesture when man and 
 woman meet, heart kissing heart, soul melted in soul, to 
 make a wedding of two lives, a unit of a duality ! " 
 
 Day, gray and dusky, began to creep into the room 
 before Helen raised her head. Her spirit had calmed 
 itself with earnest prayer. With her constant habit of 
 turning ever Godward, she had sought His judgment, 
 sympathy, comprehension, tenderness and love, as a 
 trusting child creeps to the yearning mother heart and 
 lays its innocent soul bare in utter confidence. Eising 
 with a quiet look, she stood for some time watching 
 Ralfe, whose fine features in the sullen light seemed placid 
 as marble, then softly stole out of the door and sending his 
 valet to take her place went to her own still chamber. 
 
 But as she went, Ralfe, who had not slumbered for a 
 moment, gazed after her with so profound a pity that he 
 almost called her back to him, but did not, thinking, 
 " How sad she is, yet who would have dreamed it ! She, 
 too, is lonely. She, too, loves. She chafes at her bond 
 age, and longs with secret grief to give her pure self to 
 another ! Ah, if we were not alone ! If we knew that 
 those we love seek us with equal longing, the very fact 
 that we beat our wings against our prison bars would 
 have something indescribably beautiful and comforting 
 in it, for then the circle of our desires were rounded, 
 and wishes would fly from one to the other with a divine 
 communication ! Alone ? We are never quite that after 
 all ! " for some verses of his poem which had haunted 
 him since he had awakened, again ran in his mind : 
 
 " Thou dost not leave us quite alone! 
 We sorrow that we may atone, 
 We suffer that our aims may yet 
 On Thee be set, on Thee be set !
 
 WILSON SPEAKS 123 
 
 Thy love doth try us like fine gold. 
 To Thee we cling, to Thee we hold, 
 Faith keeps us close, dear Lord, to Thee! 
 Our Father Thou, Thy children we." 
 
 Wilson at this moment appeared, his face shining with 
 delight. 
 
 "Oh, sir," said he, a suspicious moisture glistening in 
 his eyes, " how glad I am to see you alive once more ! " 
 
 Ralfe laughed. 
 
 " Have I been dead ? " 
 
 "Nigh to it, sir, nigh to it! If it had not been for 
 the mistress, you would have been gone, I m a-thinkin ." 
 
 " No doubt you also deserve much credit," said Ralfe 
 very kindly. " Tell me, Wilson, how long have I been 
 sick ? " 
 
 " About ten days." 
 
 " Are all the guests here still ? " 
 
 " All but Miss Visonti, sir." 
 
 " When did she go ? " asked Mr. Fielding sharply. 
 
 " As soon as she found out what was the matter with 
 you," said the man, honestly putting it exactly as he 
 thought. He began to mend the fire with considerable 
 energy. 
 
 "Why, what has been the matter with me?" cried 
 his master as loud as he could for his throat, which so 
 mysteriously troubled him, and half started out of bed. 
 
 " Well, besides the fever, it was awful catchin ," said 
 Wilson turning squarely around. " You have about up 
 an died with diphtheria."
 
 124 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LONGING. 
 
 " Th idea of her life shall sweetly creep 
 Into his study of imagination, 
 Into the eye and prospect of his soul." 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing. 
 
 As the days passed, and Ealfe slowly began to feel 
 the incoming tide of health sweep over his waiting 
 being, he somewhat chafed at his confinement to his 
 rooms, although they were so ample and luxurious. His 
 face had a wistful look as in the fresh mornings he idly 
 sat at the open window and saw parties of guests ride 
 up and go away, or the few who still remained in the 
 house, join them in their various little trips. But he 
 could not fail to notice how seldom Helen was to be seen 
 among them ; or if she stood in the garden and waved 
 them a gay adieu, she soon disappeared within the 
 house, to gently tap at his door and request him to 
 desire something. Seldom she came empty-handed. A 
 choice flower, a bunch of grapes, a new picture, a book, 
 always her pretty white hands were full, and her 
 serene countenance touched with a pleasant smile. If 
 she came not, he missed her, and while he would say 
 nothing when she finally appeared, he felt a very keen 
 desire to upbraid her. 
 
 " Why didn t you come before ? " he asked her rather 
 sharply one day. He was sorry he had uttered it in an 
 instant. His tone sounded harsh to him. He was 
 ashamed.
 
 A TOUCH OF JOY 125 
 
 But she only answered indifferently, " Oh, I was 
 busy," and that indifference cut him to the quick. 
 "Excuse me," he said grimly. 
 
 She came quite near to him then, and holding a sheet 
 of paper in her hand, blushed a little, looked at him 
 shyly, and finally took his hand. " Ralfe," said she, hep 
 big eyes blue with enthusiasm, " don t laugh, will you ? " 
 
 " At what ? " 
 
 Me." 
 
 " You ! " in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, me. You won t ? Truly ? Then I will tell 
 you. I have written a sonnet, and for you." She 
 drooped those golden lashes lower and lower until she 
 seated herself, a complete personification of guilt. 
 
 " Let s hear it ! " Ralfe said, heartily. " A sonnet ! 
 and for me ! My little comrade ! What a poet you 
 must be ! " and all the genial, gracious, tender beauty of 
 his soul flashed over her like a gentle benediction. She 
 drew a contented sigh, and holding the paper very 
 nicely between her face and his, was about to read, when 
 she suddenly dropped it. " Oh ! I forgot. Don t you 
 remember, you never read me the poem that you began 
 that day Miss Visonti came? You had just opened your 
 lips to read it, when she stole into the doorway I was 
 so disappointed. Will you read it to me now ? 
 
 " I wish you would not mention that," said Ralfe testily. 
 
 " Why ? " she asked, innocently. 
 
 " I was disappointed too," he answered. A soft flush 
 crept like a ray of light over the sweet countenance before 
 him. A look of joy hidden beneath a little confused 
 laugh, transfigured the eyes and lips. Ralfe felt a sud 
 den tremor of happiness. He leaned forward and shook 
 one of her ribbons into a tiny breeze. " Helen, go on ! " 
 he said. So, with a gentle dispossession of him of the 
 ribbon, in which she lightly touched his hand, she read 
 softly,
 
 126 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 LONGING. 
 
 Grant but this one rare thing. O God, to me: 
 
 This single, rich, sweet gift, oh ! make it mine. 
 
 Since all the glories of the earth are Thine, 
 
 So small a thing were never missed by Thee. 
 
 I grow so tired with ever gazing far 
 
 Across the weary distance to my need *, 
 
 Stretch out thy hand, dear Lord, and break the bar, 
 
 Letting my soul for once be wholly freed ! 
 
 Then, having gained and held it to my breast 
 
 In all its granted wealth, my being, thrilled 
 
 With gratitude for hopes divinely filled, 
 
 And all the love of one so deeply blest, 
 
 Shall feel the strength to take it all, and know, 
 
 Why I have prayed and hungered for it so. 
 
 As she read, forgetting herself and him, intent upon 
 her theme, a curious change came over her whole being. 
 The flame of her spirit burned with a penetrating light, 
 and seemed to illumine the exquisite vessel which con 
 tained it. The intellect, active and strong, intuitive 
 and poetic, filled the delicate features with a finer 
 beauty, and even her body seemed to radiate a force and 
 a charm at once. Irresistibly attracted by this unknown 
 power, which awakened only a feeling as pure yet as 
 fervent as might some angelic vision, he drew still 
 nearer and nearer, until at the last words, he swiftly 
 drew her fair head close to his breast, and kissing her 
 forehead with a touch of sweetest tenderness, whis 
 pered, " Dear heart ! " For a moment this light clasp 
 seemed to weld them in a harmony too beautiful for 
 thought ; but Helen, with a face white with emotion, 
 gently drew away. 
 
 "I did not suppose you would criticise it in that way," 
 she said demurely, looking at the crumpled paper with a 
 dubious expression. " Does that sort of criticism usually 
 please authors ? " and she smoothed the wrinkles with 
 a thoughtful movement.
 
 NOT QUITE A BLANK 127 
 
 " Helen ! " said Ralfe, " I cannot understand myself or 
 you. I wish you would go away. You are not a com 
 rade at all, and you are not a wife, and you are not a 
 friend. I cannot make it out, what you are or I am ! 
 How did you know how to write that ? And what made 
 you read it to me ? Don t you know you tear me to 
 pieces ? " He rushed these questions at her in a burst. 
 
 "I know I tore your poem that day," she answered 
 with a laugh. "But no! it was only a blank sheet of 
 paper. Maybe," she added consolingly, " you might 
 find an answer to all your questions on it. Almost 
 everything seems to me to be a blank at times. Life 
 itself is a lottery in which we too often draw a blank. 
 I presume you have heard that rather trite idea expressed 
 before. But it is sufficiently apropos." 
 
 "What!" asked Ralfe, amazed and aghast. "Do you 
 allude to me ? " 
 
 "Be calm," said Helen torturingly. "Ralfe, you do 
 very well. No, not quite a blank, I think, as a com 
 rade." And she rose in a dignified manner and left him 
 with only one more saucy look. 
 
 " If it were not for Sybil ! " he muttered, looking 
 after her in half wrath, half delight, "I d flirt her little 
 head off ! Why, by heaven, she is bewitching ! But, 
 oh ! ha, ha ! Flirt with one s wife ! By Jove, and feel 
 one s self disloyal to do it ! Was there ever such a situa 
 tion in the world ? Confound that Sardia ! " For two 
 rich voices rose from the drawing-room, blending in 
 passionate song. 
 
 How well he knew them ! Sardia s tenor, for which 
 he was famed among all his intimate friends and lovers, 
 and which he scrupulously concealed from every one 
 else. Helen s contralto, divinely rich and as full of 
 longing as the sonnet she had so recently read in mel 
 ancholy tones of sweetness.
 
 128 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " I do very well for a comrade ! " he said aloud, walk 
 ing quickly to a large mirror. His face did not please him. 
 Illness had taken its bloom ; confinement had stolen its 
 fulness. He could fancy he saw the noble head of Sardia 
 bending over Helen as she sang, and his own face did 
 not please him. It fell into a still deeper shade of melan 
 choly as he looked. " She is right," he murmured. * I 
 am a blank, what am I beside him ? " 
 
 Restlessly he paced the room until suddenly he stopped 
 and opened the door. " I will not stay shut up here any 
 longer," he exclaimed. " I can at least go to the library." 
 The voices had ceased, and as he slowly went down the 
 great staircase, he heard them in a ripple of conversa 
 tion on a little balcony just outside the library window, 
 " I shall surprise them," he thought rather sardonically, 
 as he approached the curtains. 
 
 Helen had added to her costume, since in his room, 
 some great bunches of pink roses. They were fastened 
 in sprays at her belt, they were caught at her throat, a 
 glorious blossom was hanging heavily from her hair, 
 and in her hand were two or three clusters which she 
 was carelessly whipping against her skirts. Her beau 
 tifully modulated voice, so easily heard, yet so mellow, 
 seemed continuing an earnest conversation. Sardia was 
 out of sight, but his cane was occasionally tapped on 
 the balcony as if by his idle hand. 
 
 " I am being slowly educated to the fact," Helen was 
 saying, " that love is in no manner selfish. I find I can 
 love largely, broadly, fully, and love a good many too. 
 The human idea is to love one and one only ! I believe 
 the diviner idea is to love each with an individual 
 intensity which shall be all-satisfying to them and yet 
 take nothing from any. The limitations of the human 
 idea of division in love have often fretted my soul ; for 
 there is a notion among mortals, that if you love
 
 EMPTY CUPS 129 
 
 one person, it must be all-absorbing, or else it is not 
 loyal ! " 
 
 Sardia remained thoughtfully silent a moment, and 
 then quietly answered, "Love can never be exclusive 
 with me. It is inclusive, and devotes itself in different 
 degrees to the claims and needs of everybody. Cannot 
 I love my mother just as well and better because I have 
 found my ideal woman ? Can I not love that sweet 
 woman better if I enlarge my heart to take in a friend ? " 
 His voice grew deep with feeling, his very intonation 
 was a caress. 
 
 Helen raised her head and looked straight up at the 
 sunny sky. She heeded nothing but the thought that 
 pleased her. " Love is universal and individual at once," 
 she uttered in a low, reverent voice. " It broods with 
 exquisite protection over the helpless and the sorrowing ; 
 it wings its way joyously to the empyrean with the glad 
 and the aspiring. To each, to all, it bears a message of 
 heavenly tenderness, right out of the heart of the Source 
 of love, and he whose cup is largest and able to contain 
 the most, drinks deepest of its nectar." 
 
 Both men listened to her with the same conviction. 
 Ralfe, retiring silently to his own room, and Sardia still 
 apparently gazing indifferently at the pretty garden 
 landscape, said each in his secret soul, 
 
 " How beautiful, and how unapproachable, she is ! " 
 
 Sardia looked up. 
 
 " But sometimes we love so blindly, or we find our 
 selves utterly unrequited! We hold up our cup, it 
 may be a very large cup, but it remains unfilled. 
 What shall we do then ? " 
 
 Helen turned suddenly and looked him wistfully in 
 the face. 
 
 " I constantly renew my efforts to care as little as 
 possible for this slow healing wound in the body of
 
 130 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Cupid ! " said she, and unconsciously laid her hand on 
 her heart as if she felt a pang. 
 
 " God ! " cried Sardia, catching her hand and press 
 ing it between his palms, " I know how to pity you." 
 
 The look of pain deepened in each face, and they sank 
 into silence, both falling into one of those distressing 
 states of thought which were the sharp thorns of their 
 rose of friendship. 
 
 He so niadly loving her, yet with a divine purpose 
 holding himself ever in check. She, woman-like, leaning 
 on his stronger nature, while by so leaning she drew his 
 soul to hers, in bonds unbreakable ! And each full of a 
 hopeless and agonized devotion, mocked by the very 
 nectar they craved, held just away from their lips ! 
 
 Kalfe, sitting silently and moodily at his window, 
 slowly repeated the last line of the sonnet, which came 
 tripping into his memory. " Why I have longed and 
 hungered for it so ! What can it be ? " he thought. 
 " Out of what despair could come such a cry ? Is it 
 freedom ? Freedom to love him, to be loved by him ? 
 Xo ! I will not endure the thought ! She is mine, mine ! 
 Can I not fill her life with joy ? Would not my love be 
 worth something ? It must be ! It shall ! " 
 
 Sybil for once Avas forgotten !
 
 EARLY AUTUMN 131 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN A NET. 
 
 " Much like a subtle spider that doth sit 
 In middle of her web that spreadeth wide." 
 
 Davies. 
 
 " Our souls sit close and silently within, 
 And their own web from their own entrails spin." 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 DURING Ealfe s illness, one afternoon, Guy and Lulu 
 had wandered across the lawn to a large clump of trees 
 situated quite a distance from the house. They often 
 stole apart from the others, a proceeding which was- 
 smilingly ignored. It was a still, slumberous, mellow 
 day of earliest autumn, following a sudden and unusu 
 ally cold rainstorm. The sunshine sifted hotly through 
 the trees, which were dropping their dying leaves with 
 the soft, rustling patter so familiar to those Avho are at 
 home in the woods. The moist earth was teeming with 
 odorous balsamic scents from the unfolding blossoms of 
 wild asters, the spicy smell of the laurel bushes, and all 
 the varied natural perfumes of mingled sea and shore. 
 One light yellow butterfly hovered disconsolately over a 
 budding golden-rod, feebly fluttering his half-chilled 
 wings, but higher in air a great cluster of silver midges 
 danced, swung and circled about each other, as if indeed 
 winter were a thing uncared for and unknown. The rich 
 warmth of the atmosphere made them jolly and light of 
 heart indeed. They greeted each other with sounds of 
 pleasure, and seemed to be having their dance in honor 
 of some gay occasion.
 
 132 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Lulu was a close observer of nature, and now she called 
 
 Guy s attention to this pretty festival. They watched 
 it with admiration and wonder. How human were their 
 movements ! A party would retire from the circle, and 
 then leaving their positions, going into the midst, would 
 to their own music, set their light bodies in motion. 
 Backward and forward, swinging and circling, now in 
 couples, now alone, now in groups of threes and fours, 
 advancing, retreating, and with inimitable ease dropping 
 below or rising above the others, these tiny insects 
 put the sinuous grace of Eastern dancing girls to shame, 
 and in the natural freedom of every invisible curve they 
 traced could be seen the symmetrical design and harmony 
 in the mind of Him who is the soul and life of beauty. 
 
 Far up in the walnut trees, sudden gusts of wind shook 
 the topmost branches, and as the lovers sauntered along, 
 on the yellow leaves about them would fall at long inter 
 vals a single decayed nut, with the muffled sound so 
 appropriate to the season. The pine needles were 
 polished enough to be slippery as glass beneath their 
 feet, and here and there hidden in part by a mossy stone, 
 or standing bravely out to meet the day, were scarlet 
 dots of bright-eye berries, with their creeping sprays of 
 round green leaves. They walked along, chatting in 
 Lu s own jolly and childlike way, until, finding an open 
 spot where the grass was dry and warm, they seated 
 themselves on a fallen log which had been formed into 
 a sort of rustic sofa. 
 
 The intercourse between Lulu and her lover was of 
 that rare kind which savored more of loyalty than sen 
 timent. Their conversation, although tinctured with 
 a tenderness and sweet courtesy which would instantly 
 have proclaimed them to be lovers, was for the most part, 
 of subjects more thoroughly practical than what in the 
 slang of the clay might pardonably be called " intense."
 
 GUY THORNE 133 
 
 Simple and well-bred, they possessed the negative quali 
 ties of human nature to perfection. While the negative 
 qualities are invariably the finer, more delicate, more 
 spiritual, perhaps those possessing them are worthy of 
 but little praise ; for they are always inborn in the indi 
 vidual. There is in the true man or woman a subtle 
 attribute which stamps each as a lady or a gentleman. 
 None can mistake it. In whatever situation they may 
 be, whether of embarrassment, poverty or riches, ovation 
 or insult, they preserve that one unspeakable grace which 
 neither a crown can make more beautiful nor rags render 
 less lovely. These two possessed this distinction in a 
 remarkable degree, for they added to it many positive 
 virtues, among which honor was the most prominent. 
 
 There was in the Englishman, however, a tone of cool, 
 phlegmatic indifference which characterized him among 
 his men friends as " a deuced slow-blooded fellow." Yet 
 there burned within him a depth of passion which 
 might have led him far astray, had he not a keen distaste 
 for the general follies of ordinary fast life. He wished 
 to be always certain of his moral integrity, and he de 
 spised as bad taste the indulgences which others less 
 manly believed to be even fastidiously elegant. He 
 was by no means so idle as he appeared. His affairs ex 
 tended from east to west and from ISTew York to the 
 continent. But with a keen eye to his investments, a 
 shrewd judgment and quick decision, he managed to pre 
 serve that best of advantages sufficient leisure to 
 enjoy both business and social intercourse with a quiet 
 zest. There was a vein of pleasantry in him that fre 
 quently cropped out in his speech, which spoke of the 
 jovial humor of his heart, and Lulu often found him 
 sufficiently merry to make the dullest day full of sun 
 shine. To-day he was in one of his happiest moods, and 
 seemed interested in every trifle as they laughingly
 
 134 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 talked. She had a dainty little box of artists utensils, 
 and as she chatted she sketched, while he, tired of his 
 position, finally flung himself with boyish grace upon 
 the ground. A little scrub oak grew beside Lulu, and as 
 one or two glossy leaves detached themselves and floated 
 away, she let fall her pencil and watched them idly in 
 silence, thinking of little save the blue dome above her, 
 the genial warmth of the sun, and the refreshing odors 
 which, without effort of hers, were blown with all their 
 aromatic fragrance to her nostrils. 
 
 " How dear and lovely life appears ! " suddenly mur 
 mured Guy. " There is nothing in all the scene which 
 speaks of unhappiness. The general beginning of decay 
 is but the precedence of a new birth into gladness. The 
 very winds are tuned to a subdued but tender melody. 
 One might easily believe that wrong, outrage, selfishness, 
 fraud or cruelty had no existence. We are at this 
 moment possessed of a little space 
 
 Within whose circuit is Elysium, 
 And all that poets feign of bliss or joy. " 
 
 Lulu did not reply. Her eyes were fixed with eager 
 interest upon something evidently within the leaves of 
 the oak. 
 
 " What do you see ? " he asked, lazily. 
 
 " Hush ! " she whispered softly, holding up her finger, 
 "don t look. Let me tell you and see if you can guess. 
 
 Thome turned his head so that the mellow sunshine 
 played on the dark, healthy hue of his cheek and smil 
 ing in anticipation, said gently, " Go on, love." 
 
 " I see," said Lulu, all her tones indicating the most 
 vivid interest, "a curious little creature. She is gray 
 and spotted and hairy. Her undervest is muddy yellow, 
 and her legs are butternut brown. She has piercing, 
 wary, suspicious eyes. She is a small bundle of obser-
 
 A SPIDER SONG 135 
 
 vation. There is not a movement of hers that does not 
 show her to be on the alert. She is both on the defen 
 sive and the aggressive. Her whole being is made up 
 of unconquerable industry, intuitive watchfulness and 
 supreme cunning. Self-interest is displayed in the very 
 way she twists her hind legs together, and knots with 
 precision and swiftness the web she is weaving." 
 
 " Oho, little lady ! a spider, a spider ! " 
 
 Lulu laughed and blushed with amused pique. " To 
 think I should have told right out ! " said she. 
 
 " Pray go on," urged her lover. 
 
 " Self-preservation and self-indulgence are seen in the 
 deep, well-covered cave she has manufactured, into which 
 she can crawl and hide from danger, or sit at ease and 
 view the helpless struggles of her prey. She is indeed 
 a very wicked-looking spider." 
 
 " Do you know they can sing ? " 
 
 Lulu looked incredulous. He went on, " It is believed 
 by many that a spider cannot even converse. But I think 
 I can convince you that to a fine ear, accustomed by long 
 and loving observation of nature s music to catch the 
 faintest sound, she sings a low, tragic, mysterious song. 
 Listen and see if dear old Prince Will does not put her 
 crooning into words ; " and in a soft, buzzing tone he half 
 repeated, half hummed, 
 
 " Fair is foul, and foul is fair, 
 
 Hover through the fog and filthy air. 
 I ll drain him dry as hay; 
 Sleep shall neither night nor day 
 Hang upon his penthouse lid ; 
 He shall live a thing forbid. 
 Weary sev n-nights, nine times nine, 
 Shall he dwindle, peak and pine. " 
 
 The spider which they had both been watching had 
 until this moment been busily at work enlarging her web,
 
 136 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 but now Lulu exclaimed, " I believe, dearest, you have 
 chanted that poor victim s death-knell." 
 
 While she spoke a very small honey-bee became caught 
 within an inch of the cave. The spider knew it the 
 moment he touched the web, but she had perfect confi 
 dence in her work. They anticipated that she would in 
 stantly approach him so that she might more certainly 
 ensnare him, but they were astonished to note the cool 
 ness of her movements. She stopped weaving, and with 
 that peculiarly angular motion which spiders have, she 
 turned with one straight bound, so that she sat sideways 
 towards the intruder ; then, with a sly, subtle, quiet sat 
 isfaction, she settled herself well into her airy swing, and 
 began to puff herself out. She watched that unfortu 
 nate bee with a fiendish and most deliberate pleasure. 
 As with many a wrathful and finally despairing buzz he 
 endeavored to loosen his feet and wings, but only suc 
 ceeded in more closely entangling them, she made the 
 whole web about her tremble, whether with malicious 
 laughter they knew not, but certainly with an emotion 
 which set her whole disagreeable little body in spasmodic 
 action. Having seen that it needed no further effort 
 of hers to hold him fast, she shrank to her ordinary size 
 and went again to work as if nothing had happened. 
 
 Lulu had watched all this with twenty expressions 
 crossing her face. She now put forth her little hand 
 and exclaimed indignantly, " I will rescue him ! " 
 
 Guy caught it, however, his face charged with a slow, 
 indefinite scorn. "No, let us wait and see the end of 
 the tragedy. It will teach us its lesson. Look, she has 
 returned to him." It had not taken her spidership long 
 to complete her task. When she had fastened the last 
 rope, with a slow, cautious, apparently timid motion, 
 she crawled towards what was at last to be her supper. 
 She had not arrived half way before he set up a cry of
 
 THE SYMBOL 137 
 
 defiance. She stopped and measured his proportions, 
 went around him on her fairy ladder, and satisfied her 
 self that in no wise he could get away ; and then, with 
 the insolence of power, sat immediately in front of him 
 and began to swell herself out. This was more than 
 his knighthood could endure. He forgot her sex. He 
 forgot his own desperate condition. He roared out his 
 hatred and contempt with a thousand twirls of his legs 
 and twists of his head. At this she became infuriated. 
 With the utmost ease avoiding his sting, she drew her 
 slimy body over and about him until she had enveloped 
 him with her strong cables, and then, over his very head 
 she wove a nightcap which silenced him forever. The 
 skill and courage she displayed in passing and repassing 
 his fiery weapon, the cool trustfulness in her own ingen 
 ious trap, the insolent enjoyment of the anguish of her 
 victim, the prosaic yet wonderfully successful plan by 
 which she shut her enemy s mouth, and her subsequent 
 retirement into her self-constructed castle, there to re 
 cruit after her exertion and prepare herself for supper, 
 awakened in the human beings who watched her, feelings 
 of horror and disgust. 
 
 "Do you not see a symbol, Lulu, in this scene, of 
 those natures among our kind, who, grasping, cunning, 
 and cruel, endowed with wisdom, power, and efficiency 
 of action, spend their lives in building for self alone ? " 
 She crept closer to her lover and nestled her hand in his 
 as he proceeded. " These make of their existences 
 snares, into which are drawn generosity, bravery and 
 innocence, to be insulted, imposed upon, and finally 
 strangled, as was the valiant honey-bee. These must 
 have their supper, though it be from the dead body of 
 all that is sweet, benevolent, and manly." 
 
 " How bitterly you speak, dear," she murmured. " Can 
 it be that you have known such people ? "
 
 138 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 "Who has not? "he answered. "If they cover the 
 true soul of themselves with an outward show of sweet 
 manners and professed goodness, underneath is working 
 the real nature of the spider. Do you not know one 
 whose secret being might be appropriately represented 
 by this ? " and he pointed with a gesture of aversion to 
 the cobweb. 
 
 She shuddered a little and pressed closer to his side. 
 " I know whom you mean," she almost whispered. " Ever 
 since I gave you some little idea of my evening in 
 Sybil s room, you have seemed to hate her." 
 
 " Darling, darling," he answered in a strained and un 
 natural voice. " God forgive me if I do her wrong, but I 
 have watched her closely ever since she came to this 
 place, and I have indeed grown to feel a strong and ever- 
 increasing dislike. Do not listen to her ! Do not be 
 alone with her one moment ; will you, my innocent 
 love ? " He looked into her face with an anxiety 
 which was even a stronger warning than his words. 
 
 " She could not influence me to do wrong ! " exclaimed 
 Lulu with considerable pride. 
 
 " I know, I know," he answered with equal pride, but 
 added gently, " I have seen large brown spots suddenly 
 appear on the most perfect and fragrant magnolia, after 
 it had been simply breathed upon !" 
 
 Lulu understood. "I promise, dear. Indeed, I was 
 going to speak with you about it. You must be a 
 mother to me as well as a lover, now that I am so far 
 away," and she lifted her trusting face with a reverent 
 look. "I do not know but she fascinates, yet repels 
 me. I wish to sit beside her, I long to touch her. Her 
 dark beauty appeals to me with a strange power, and 
 yet, if she touches me, if she kisses me, as she so often 
 does when I least expect it, I become so angry in a 
 minute that I could strike her."
 
 BLIND EYES 139 
 
 "Avoid her! ]STever touch her! Do not permit her 
 to kiss you ! " cried Guy, earnestly. " But this has 
 indeed been a sober ending to our little walk." He rose 
 and shook himself as if to throw off an evil impres 
 sion. "Let us go and forget in some sweet deed this 
 strange little drama of the woods." 
 
 " Helen wished me to go and carry a large package of 
 wine and delicacies to a poor old black woman she knows 
 in the town. I have been two or three times before 
 with her. Let us go now. Will you order a carriage ? " 
 So these two young people who shuddered at the thought 
 of wicked or ignoble deeds, with the soft rays of the 
 declining sun shedding a glory about them, drove along 
 towards the humble cottage where they would carry 
 help and comfort and benediction to one who forgot pain 
 and poverty in their merry voices. They left the small 
 gray spider looking out from her den and gloating over 
 her victim with ever-watchful eyes. They did not 
 molest her. Why should they ? She was irresponsible. 
 She had acted out her nature. But forth from the one 
 thing beautiful about her, the gossamer web which she 
 had spun, might easily have been imagined to come the 
 sound of 
 
 "Weary sev n-niglits, nine times nine, 
 Shall he dwindle, peak and pine." 
 
 Lulu was very thoughtful all the evening, and as she 
 was taking down her glossy brown hair for the night, 
 she nodded two or tkree times gravely at her reflection 
 in the mirror, and said, confidentially, 
 
 " And Ralfe is the honey-bee ! " 
 
 Yet she was looking into her own eyes.
 
 140 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 AT LAST ! 
 
 " Sometimes we are devils to ourselves, 
 When we will teinpt the frailty of our powers." 
 
 Troilus and Cressida; 
 
 "Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 RALFE S convalescence was now rapid. Not many 
 days passed before he could go into other apartments, and 
 soon he habitually sought the library, where, reposing 
 in some great chair or lying on an easy lounge, every one 
 vied to render his hours gay with their society, or else 
 scrupulously avoided disturbing his frequent intervals 
 of enforced quiet. Miss Yisonti had returned after a 
 few days, and seemed filled with a desire to please every 
 one with whom she came in contact. Even Sarclia was 
 half charmed from his suspicion by the gentle, but in 
 different, manner she displayed towards Ralfe, and her 
 evident wish to avoid being alone with him, sin,ce she 
 invariably managed to be accompanied. 
 
 Ralfe chafed and fretted with inward rage. Was it 
 fate, or was it Sybil herself, who put this barrier forever 
 between them ? Should he never regain his strength and 
 be able to command her presence for a moment ? 
 
 She had brought with her, as a pretext for her trip to 
 Xew York, a superb bas-relief of the head of the elder 
 Delsarte, which she averred had been detained in the 
 custom-house and which for some reason she had had 
 great difficulty in securing. Displaying the portrait on
 
 THE UNDERLYING UNITY 141 
 
 an easel, she stood before it in an attitude of proud 
 humility. " The great master ! " she exclaimed. " If I 
 have anything of grace about me, it is from close study 
 of his art ! " And with a worshipping abandonment 
 she threw herself on a low cricket and gazed admiringly 
 at the stern, cold, intellectual features. " What an 
 elevation of soul comes to one who can understand, even 
 so slightly as I, the deep mysterious unity of being 
 which underlay all his teachings ! And how impossible 
 to communicate to the uninitiated, the subtle fascination 
 of his laws ! " 
 
 " But what is the result of them ? " asked Charlie 
 Vane, who was prone to go straight to the end of any 
 thing. 
 
 Sybil rose with a grace that could be felt, as well as 
 seen, and stood before him with a triumphant smile. 
 
 " I am answered ! " he exclaimed, and the others, in 
 spite of their varied feelings towards her, involuntarily 
 admitted their appreciation. 
 
 Signor Zante, who happened to be present, with his 
 soft old hand patted her gently on the arm. "Well 
 done ! " said he. " I knew both the Delsartes, and I 
 could fancy they had inspired you ?" 
 
 " You studied in Venice, did you not ? " remarked 
 Sardia with the quiet manner of one who knows what 
 will be replied. " Whom did you find there to properly 
 supplement the great Frenchman ? " 
 
 Sterility of invention was not her fault. " Only his 
 charts and rules, under his son s previous direction," 
 she replied. "I allowed myself to think of nothing 
 else whatever. I devoted myself to study for months," 
 and she turned to the examination of the plaque. 
 
 "And your object ? " queried Helen. " Did you mean 
 to teach ? " 
 
 " To cultivate myself," she answered scornfully. " That
 
 142 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 is just like you New Englanders. You must always 
 make a practical use of everything. I presume it seems 
 absurd to you to wish to become cultured for one s own 
 sake. You think, perhaps, that if I study the dramatic 
 art, my object should be to go upon the stage, and 
 make money. That only is consistence here. I prefer 
 to be inconsistent ! " and her lip curved to an unmistak 
 able sneer. 
 
 "But would it not be very sweet to have an object 
 outside of one s self after all ? "said Helen, gently ignor 
 ing her manner. "To share the delights of culture 
 seems to me a very high object. Sympathetic natures 
 are so few, self-centred ones so many. And you with 
 your intense personality might give such exquisite pleas 
 ure by imparting what you may have gained. I think, 
 perhaps, you wrong us when you attribute a mercenary 
 or practical desire in everything. But there is a terrible 
 lack of expression of which an Italian may well com 
 plain. "VYe are exclusive of the individual. We give 
 to the world insipid generalities." 
 
 " The American is notorious for spending money right 
 and left. Generous with worldly goods, and free with 
 gold, we hug the wealth of our own natures tight to our 
 selves, and hold our best ideas as if contact with others 
 were contamination. "What true conversation do we 
 have here ? " 
 
 " We are diffident," said Guy. " That is one reason." 
 
 Every one shouted, " A Yankee diffident ! A Yankee 
 shy ! Who ever heard of such a thing ! Well, that is 
 delicious ! " they exclaimed amidst universal laughter. 
 
 "It is a fact," he replied doggedly, "nevertheless. 
 The American may talk and brag and bluster and 
 splurge a great deal ; but after all, down in his heart he 
 is as retiring and diffident as a shy child. I mean that 
 the very noblest, sweetest, richest impulses and emotions
 
 THE AMERICAN RINGS TRUE 143 
 
 of his complex nature are hidden under this very ex 
 terior. The sayings, He puts his worst foot foremost/ 
 and His tongue is his own worst enemy, are very true 
 of him, and he too often covers the delicacies of his soul 
 with a crust of crudeness and folly. It is the crisis that 
 proves the American. Then his stability appears. Then 
 he rings true ! " 
 
 "Our history proves that, I think," remarked Charlie 
 Vane. "But on an average we mutely plod through life, 
 seldom if ever showing out our souls even to our own." 
 
 " There is still an English strain in us," laughed Kalfe. 
 " I am not surprised that Miss Visonti, or any foreigner, 
 should consider the American people purely practical. 
 Why, even our very grief we hold in check ! We think 
 it unmanly, if when to our lips is pressed the bitterest 
 draught, we let the tears flow ! To make a scene were 
 dreadful. To let the true natural emotion vent itself 
 in appreciative sobs or laughter, in glad speeches or 
 sympathetic applause, were to be pronounced green, 
 countrified, verdant, and unsophisticated ! " 
 
 "Another thing ! We exclude from our conversation 
 all that hints of Heaven. Keligion has become nothing 
 but an argument. We do not talk of it to men as we 
 pray it to God. We do not confess that we pray at all, 
 or, if we do, it is with a tone of apology. All that is 
 sweet and quick within us, we cover with the silks of 
 form and velvets of ceremony, or secrete under a brusque 
 indifference, a rough witticism, or a rigid silence. How 
 much of Eden we lose daily ! " 
 
 As they talked, all had moved slowly out of the room, 
 excepting Kalfe and Sybil, who still remained ; the one 
 lying on the lounge by the breezy vine-embowered win 
 dow, the other still leaning against the richly draped 
 portrait of Delsarte. She spoke in a cheerfully indif 
 ferent tone of the execution, coloring and likeness, and
 
 144 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 having settled it to her satisfaction, glanced unconcern 
 edly over her shoulder and said, 
 
 " By the way, you can do me a little favor if you 
 choose." 
 
 Ralfe flushed with pleasure. 
 
 " I shall be charmed," said he. 
 
 Sybil laughed. 
 
 " Does it confuse you ? " she questioned shrewdly ; 
 " that is what you always say when you are annoyed ! " 
 
 " On the contrary. What can I do, what may I do to 
 serve you ? " 
 
 " Lend me some money," she answered, dropping her 
 eyes. And then raising them and looking straight at 
 him, " I must have it, or I would not ask." 
 
 Ealfe felt his whole heart flow out to her in sympathy. 
 The bluntness, the straightforwardness of the request, 
 must cover the keenest sensitiveness, the deepest humil 
 iation. He instantly took out his purse and handed it 
 to her, and then scratched his signature on a blank check. 
 
 She daintily toyed with the purse, shook out a gold 
 piece or two in her hand, pulled out some bills, and 
 selecting four, shut the purse nicely and handed it back 
 to him saying, 
 
 " This will do, thanks." 
 
 She had taken four one-hundred-dollar bills. He had 
 drawn five hundred the day before, and had used but 
 little. 
 
 " How fortunate that I could do you this trifling ser 
 vice ! " he said, in a self-congratulatory tone, " I am not 
 always so lucky ! " 
 
 She passed along to where some of the guests were 
 standing in various costumes, awaiting the carriages to 
 take them on their usual morning jaunts. Some were 
 bound for fishing, some for shopping, one or two for the 
 sea-bath, and Helen was already equipped for a long
 
 LOST EDEN 145 
 
 promised horseback ride with Sardia, who stood holding 
 her horse, not trusting the groom to place her in the sad 
 dle. From one of the great overflowing urns, Sybil 
 gathered a bunch of glowing scarlet geranium whose 
 pungent odor seemed to suit her mood, and after wav 
 ing them all a graceful adieu, slowly returned to the 
 library, where Ralfe still reclined in the soft, dim, 
 morning light, sifted through myriads of leaves. Coin 
 ing softly behind his couch and bending over him, she 
 repeated musingly, 
 
 " How much of Eden we lose daily ! " 
 
 Ralfe, who had tremblingly awaited this meeting, was 
 filled with so intense an excitement that he remained 
 silent and motionless. It seemed to him as if the cul 
 mination of his life were reached; as if the crest of the 
 topmost wave were rolling over him. All previous 
 existence in instantaneous panorama rushed across his 
 soul s vision, only to make this moment the seeming end 
 and aim of all. 
 
 She moved her dark, flower-like face a little nearer, 
 pressing the blood-red blossoms to her breathing bosom, 
 and fixed her eyes full upon him. Those eyes, deepen 
 ing, expanding, glowing, suddenly grew liquid with un 
 shed tears. He raised his arms with a yearning, eager 
 gesture, and in an ecstasy too deep for words, drew her 
 throbbing heart close to his own. 
 
 " At last ! " they mutually murmured. 
 
 Then dropping on her knees as if exhausted, her arm 
 close about his head, her soft, magnetic fingers twined 
 in his curls, the thrills of her fervent touch flooding him 
 with tropical languor and fire, his heart in a resistless 
 torrent poured out its long-pent worship in distracted 
 sentences, exclamations, fantastic love-words : the 
 depths of his whole self-contained nature breaking up 
 and yielding inevitably to the spell. From her seemed
 
 146 SARDIA; A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 to fall distilled the charm which mocked the beauty or 
 attainments of all other women ; his thirsty being drank 
 its nectar and became intoxicated with its joy. She 
 sank back breathless, on the low seat by his side, and hid 
 her face in the crushed and broken blossoms as if their 
 scarlet should indicate her shame. But he had no 
 thought of shame or fear, duty or obligation. 
 
 " I love you, I love you ! " was all he could think or 
 say. 
 
 "I have had joys of the thought of Death so often, oh, 
 so often ! " she said in a low, tremulous voice, " but I can 
 never think of Death again, save with hate." 
 
 " But if he came with me ? " he answered eagerly, 
 with all the insistence on extremes of a lover. * 
 
 " With you ! " and she met his gaze with a flashing 
 eye. "I could enslave him. We would live and love 
 forever." 
 
 "Tell me, darling," said he, calming himself a little, 
 and taking her hands closely in his trembling palms, 
 " what does this all mean ? Why are we separated ? 
 Why are not you my wife ? What fatal thing has made 
 this barrier between us ? " 
 
 She suddenly laughed in scornful bitterness. "A 
 wedding ring," said she. 
 
 "It might have been yours," he answered, looking 
 strangely into her eyes. 
 
 " It might have been ! " 
 
 Her tone had a subtle significance, a hint of some 
 possibility which his intuition caught with lightning 
 quickness. He leaped to his feet, and raising her with 
 a swift movement, held her straight before him, the 
 slight physical separation seeming to be like an interval 
 of time in which he could fully comprehend the true 
 meaning of his thoughts. He looked away and up and 
 out in his spirit, and for an instant high and pure as an
 
 A CONQUEST 147 
 
 angel shone the clear, calm face of Helen. But the eyes 
 of his body rested on the seductive, pleading, command 
 ing beauty of Sybil Visonti. Clasping her again with 
 fierce, defiant grasp, he hid her head in his bosom and, 
 holding her as if he could never let her go, almost cried 
 out, " It shall be yours ! We will be robbed no longer." 
 An eloquent silence followed, filled with a sense of jubi 
 lant heroism for him, a triumphant diplomacy for her. 
 
 She had won by neither persuasion, threat, nor prom 
 ise. She had not even exercised pathos. It had been 
 fine workmanship. She had neither invited nor denied. 
 Her vanity, which forever had held a mirror up in front 
 of her own intellectual subtleties, gave back a satisfac 
 tory show of that art which was " an underlying unity " 
 of her being. 
 
 " And do you say to me that henceforth I shall be no 
 longer lonesome, no longer pine and die in hungering 
 after you ? " Sybil breathed at last, releasing herself, and 
 gently drawing him beside her on the couch. 
 
 " Oh, this terrible interval, this crushing, devouring, 
 burning past, of nights of sighs, of tears, worse, a 
 thousand times worse, since irresistibly attracted to this 
 house, I have dared to face your possible displeasure, to 
 brave your very hatred and scorn just to look in your 
 face, to know you were near, although hers ! Kalfe, 
 Ealfe, can you realize it ? Can you see how even I, 
 I in my abandonment could throw off my very woman 
 hood and bear the pangs of sight, hearing, touch, in 
 seeming indifference ? I am tired, worn, dead with this 
 frightful concealment, this pressing down of my real 
 feelings. I could not have borne it longer. When you 
 were ill I tried to go away and stay forever. I said to 
 myself in unspeakable bitterness that should you die, 
 she would be the one to take your parting breath ; and 
 should you live, what hope ? I would go then in the
 
 148 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 very crisis of my anguish, and hugging my secret to 
 my own breast, let it tear my soul from my body if it 
 would. But I could not. Away from you was greater 
 torture than to be near you. I bound the mask across 
 my face again but it is past. You will never bid me 
 wear it to you again." 
 
 " Marvellous woman ! " he whispered. " Can it be 
 possible you love me so ? And I ! How many times 
 have I lavished on dumb, insensate paper the assurances 
 which I longed with aching heart to give you ! As I 
 have thought of you, I seemed to leap towards you. My 
 spirit seemed to leave my body. I flew to embrace you, to 
 take your dear brow so between my hands, and begin 
 to kiss you from your darling little curls to your dear 
 feet. I have actually felt my arms around you. I could 
 not curb my imagination. No words can express the 
 surging sea of love which has always flowed to you, sur 
 rounded you, swept you along its life-giving current. I 
 could have hailed Love out of the sky to bid him fly on 
 the wings of the wind to bathe you in my caresses, to 
 give your sense the fragrance of a thousand sighs, your 
 eyes the light of a life of smiles. And when in your 
 radiance you came here under my roof, when the very 
 atmosphere was impregnated with the delight of your 
 presence, and I saw you move about in the place where 
 I had meant you to be my queen, I felt as if in a dream 
 an ecstatic dream which the least movement might 
 shatter, the least word put to flight. Longing for a 
 moment alone with you, I still avoided it, for I knew not 
 what lay beneath your apparent indifference. Your 
 seeming coldness cut me to the quick ; your pleasantries 
 with others hurt my pride ; your very smile was a mys 
 tery too sweet to fathom. Ah, how impossible it is to 
 judge by the hints of one s surface life what lies deep 
 and seething within the soul ! With what a history of
 
 SECRET PLANS 149 
 
 struggle, pain, hope, fear, trust, suspicion, and a thousand 
 other strong emotions should I overwhelm you, if I 
 should pour forth the fulness of my heart ! " 
 
 "My true life, too, is always within," she answered, 
 tallying with his mood, " and always how solitary ! 
 But in you I shall ever find a friend, a companion, 
 another soul like my own, strong and rich with emotions, 
 exalted in intellectual pursuit, noble in feeling. Oh, 
 promise me that I may rest in you ; that in you I shall 
 find that protection, that chivalry which will permit me 
 to battle no longer with the world, but hide me safe 
 from petty misconception, cruel criticism all human 
 ills ! Oh ! to be hidden in the depths of an ever-present 
 love ! " 
 
 Intoxicated with her pleading helplessness, there was 
 nothing which Ralfe was not willing to do or sacrifice to 
 make her happy. His very chivalry aroused him to 
 promise her his devoted protection. Wooing her with 
 words whose eloquence seemed to spring with inspira 
 tion from his lips, with but the lightest touches he 
 sketched a future which great wealth should render 
 possible with comparative ease. And she with softest 
 suggestions, and childlike innocent preferences, painted 
 in the picture with colors caught from her own vivid 
 imagination. Nothing should be done unwisely, nothing 
 unadvisedly. They would bask in the sweet sunshine of 
 a mutual understanding through the long bright days of 
 summer ; and when all his affairs were quietly arranged 
 and some legal settlements should be gradually accom 
 plished, by which at last he should be free, free from 
 a bondage which a blind, inevitable necessity had caused 
 him to assume, they would go away, far from the soci 
 ety which was as nothing to their love, and finding some 
 beautiful retreat beneath foreign skies, forget that they 
 had ever suffered or been parted. Suddenly confronting 
 an unanswered doubt, he exclaimed,
 
 150 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " But, darling, even now I know not how this terrible 
 mistake caine about ! Why did you return my letter of 
 proposal in that harsh fashion torn open, and without 
 one word of reply ? " 
 
 " What letter of proposal ? " exclaimed Sybil, in evi 
 dent bewilderment. " When ? where ? " 
 
 " Do you mean to say you never received it ? " he 
 cried, springing up and facing her with face white to the 
 very throat 
 
 " I never received anything from you," said Sybil, 
 with an air of exhaustion, "but flowers." 
 
 " On the day before I left Paris I sent you a letter 
 and a bouquet. I asked you to be my wife. That letter 
 came back to me rudely torn open, and without an 
 answer. What was I to think ? I was insulted beyond 
 measure. But oh, I loved you ! " 
 
 Sybil looked at him with a countenance in which dis 
 may, bewilderment, fright, and agony seemed to struggle. 
 
 " Who could have done it ? Who could have done 
 it ? " she repeated in a helpless way as if faint with 
 intensity of feeling. " What motive ? What enemy 
 I cannot explain it. Destiny ruled it. But if your love 
 had been more steadfast, your trust, your knowledge of 
 me more perfect ! " and with this bitter thrust, she laid 
 her head on her arms and sobbed piteously. 
 
 Ralfe rushed to his desk, and scattering papers right 
 and left, said, excitedly, 
 
 " Here is the letter ! Accept it now ! By the Heaven 
 above me, I will make that base wretch suffer to his 
 latest day, who dared to intercept it ! I will find him if 
 he lives upon the earth ! " 
 
 But he could not find the letter. He searched in 
 ever}- nook and cranny, impatiently tossing everything 
 aside ; but it was not* there. In a quiet rage which 
 made him formidable, he pulled the bell, and ordered
 
 A LAW UNTO THEMSELVES 151 
 
 the maid to appear whose duty it was to take care of the 
 library. But, question her as he might, the trembling 
 girl declared that she had neither burned nor destroyed 
 anything whatever. That her mistress had given her 
 strictest orders never to touch a paper of any kind. He 
 dismissed her, and going to Sybil, who had passed on 
 into the conservatory, begged her to pardon him this 
 strange interruption. 
 
 "The letter has mysteriously disappeared," he said. 
 " I will ask Helen if she knows anything of it." 
 
 Sybil looked at him as if shocked. 
 
 " Would you tell her of this affair ? " 
 
 His anger had carried him beyond all remembrance 
 of the consequences. He saw his mistake and smiled a 
 grim smile. 
 
 "That would be an odd episode," said he. 
 
 " Say nothing of it to any one promise me ! " 
 pleaded Sybil, winding her arms about him. " The past 
 is past, it is irretrievable. But, dearest, are we not 
 happy, satisfied, content ? What is a letter beside your 
 lips, a sheet of paper beside your touch ? Love came 
 late, but, oh Heaven, it has come ; and let us welcome it 
 without a cloud ! " And with an ecstatic, joyous, tri 
 umphant gesture, she seemed to fling aside all annoyance 
 and claim her right to him with an embrace. " Let us 
 from this moment dedicate ourselves to joy. If we 
 have not entered the temple by the door, we have be 
 sieged and taken it, and razed the walls ! Henceforth 
 we will be a law unto ourselves ! " 
 
 She looked so glorious, her queenly figure surrounded 
 and caressed by the great tropic blooms about her head 
 that the magnificent audacity of her speech but added 
 to the fascination which was so wildly sweet. . Governed 
 by an impulse which he could not control, and led on by 
 the acquiescence which was half-yielding and half-coy,
 
 152 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 he madly pledged himself to schemes and proposals which 
 even half an hour of sober reason would have taught 
 him were wholly beneath him, yet under the charm of 
 her alluring tongue took on the hues of honor, chivalry 
 and right. In the midst of their fondest plans, the 
 swift feet of horses were heard cantering up the lawn. 
 With accomplished ease Sybil broke away from Ralfe s 
 detaining hand. With a glowing look, full of unutter 
 able attraction, she turned to go ; but suddenly grew 
 white with the intensity of her purpose. 
 
 " W T e are one ? " she said, solemnly closing her hand 
 over his. 
 
 " One forever." 
 
 " Come what may ? " 
 
 " Be it death itself." 
 
 "And meantime, silence ? " 
 
 " Silence and faith." 
 
 "Silence and faith," she repeated, just disappearing 
 when Helen s voice was heard in the hall. 
 
 When she was safely in her room, she made a low, rev 
 erent bow to nothing ; and with a lip of sardonic deris 
 ion, uttered again the proud words of that morning : " It 
 is the crisis that proves the American. Then it is that 
 he always rings true ! "
 
 SYMPATHY 153 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A WEDDING RING. 
 " No hinge, nor loop to hang a doubt on." 
 
 Othello. 
 
 WHILE Ralfe sat with his head bowed on his hands, 
 trying to calm the tempest of his thought, Helen softly 
 entered, holding in her hand a pretty ring. Something 
 in his attitude and in his face when he raised it, pale 
 and haggard with the conflict of conscience with inclina 
 tion, startled her. Her soul found within itself a re 
 echoing cry, and she advanced white and trembling to 
 his side. He grasped her hands and looked into her 
 great, wistful eyes as he would into those of an angel 
 sent to save him. Oh, the speaking silence of those 
 eyes ! What a depth of pure, sweet, holy tenderness they 
 contained ! How clean and fair was the look, mingled 
 with an anxious and troubled questioning. Her gentle 
 voice, so vibrant yet so melodious, rich with the harmony 
 of her perfectly attuned nature, seemed to him like a 
 healing, cooling breeze after fever. 
 
 " You are sad, comrade ! " 
 
 Sad ? But a few moment ago he believed himself 
 in the wildest delirium of joy ! He had clasped to 
 his heart the woman whose very name enslaved him. 
 Sad ? He had believed himself trembling with bliss, 
 enraptured with mad happiness ! But grasping his 
 wife s hands, looking into her sympathetic face, feeling 
 the heaven of her soul touching the hell of his, and lift 
 ing him out of himself into her purer sphere, he shud-
 
 154 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 dered, and drawing her nearer and nearer, clung to her 
 as if he were drowning ; and laying his head against her 
 arm, shut his eyes, and with quivering lip answered, 
 " Yes, comrade ; I am sad." 
 
 They remained thus for a moment without speaking. 
 his hot temple throbbing against her round, white wrist, 
 and his excited brain thinking, " Oh, if she only loved 
 me she could so easily save me ! I feel so helpless. If 
 she only loved me ! But she pities me." 
 
 While Helen yearned to kiss the dear, bowed head, 
 longingly saying to herself, " How I would give my very 
 blood to comfort him if he would have it ! but, he will 
 not." 
 
 He could not speak and tell her of the terrible battle 
 he was fighting. Could he tell his wife, " Sybil Visonti 
 seems to overpower reason, conscience, habit, principle, 
 every noble feeling of my being, and fells me helpless at 
 her feet, a mere animal with an animal s uncontrolled 
 instincts ! I crave her, and seem to enjoy paradise in 
 the very touch of her dress. I am lost to everything 
 but her beauty, her magnetism, her glowing eyes ! " 
 He shook himself and rose to his feet. "Did you wish 
 for anything, dearest ? " he said g ently. 
 
 Alas, that "dearest." It was the first time he had 
 ever used it, but she wished he had left it unsaid. She 
 felt it put her far away, refused her sympathy. She 
 saw he meant to be strong alone, and in her tender love, 
 she wondered at his sudden assumption of indifference 
 to his own sorrow, whatever it might be. But it would 
 have been impossible for her to intrude on an emotion 
 which he strove to throw off. 
 
 " He will never really trust me," she thought despair 
 ingly, then answered, " Yes, I wished you to do a little 
 errand for me when you drive down town. Will it be 
 too much trouble ? "
 
 AN ERRAND 155 
 
 "To serve you is a favor, always, Helen. Certainly 
 I will do it. What is it?" 
 
 " I wish this ring mended. I loaned it to Sybil a 
 week or two ago, but as to-day is the anniversary of my 
 mother s wedding, and this was her wedding-ring, I re 
 quested her to let me have it again in remembrance. 
 When I put it on, however, I found that the largest 
 diamond was loose, and I dare not wear it until the set 
 ting is fastened. Can you take it for me to Griffin ? 
 He has a little shop, but he is reliable." 
 
 " Can I find the place ? " he said, tucking the ring into 
 his purse. 
 
 " Oh, Hewston knows. He has been there," she 
 answered carelessly, and with a smile, turned away. 
 
 He appreciated her delicacy. " There is one thing," 
 said he to himself, " she is the least curious of women. 
 How I hate that invariable, What is the matter ? 
 which most people ask. They must know all about it 
 before they can even say I ain sorry. " And catching 
 up his hat, he went out to give orders for his cart. 
 
 The morning was deliciously fresh and brilliant. He 
 felt better as he drove Bocket and King Cute at a rattling 
 pace, the leader tossing his silky mane and curveting 
 like a skittish colt. Hewston directed him to a small 
 shop set in the corner of a busy, narrow, dirty little 
 thoroughfare in the old part of the town. Throwing 
 him the reins, Ralfe stepped in, to find a gray-haired old 
 man, beautifully gotten up as to linen, polishing with 
 his owri hands a tiny lace pin. 
 
 "I have a ring here that needs mending a little," said 
 Ralfe pleasantly, after the usual greeting. " One of the 
 stones appears to be loose." 
 
 "Why, that is odd," said the jeweller, "I did not 
 think my setting would last so short a time," examining 
 it closely. " The lady must have hit it a hard knock."
 
 156 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 "Your setting ? " said Kalfe, a little surprised. " Have 
 you mended this ring before ? " 
 
 " I set these stones for a young lady only a few days 
 ago." 
 
 " Set them ? " repeated Ralfe, surprised indeed at his 
 phrase. "Were not these diamonds set as they are 
 now ? " 
 
 " The diamonds were, but these are the paste stones 
 I set in their places." 
 
 " Paste ! " exclaimed Ralfe, thunderstruck. 
 
 " Why, yes," said he complacently, " and I declared to 
 her that only an expert could detect them. Now I am 
 sure she will be satisfied," and he chuckled with pleas 
 ure. "You know," he went on confidentially, "a great 
 many ladies do that sort of thing nowadays. Of course, 
 as she sent you with the ring, she has no objection to 
 your knowing, though of course it is always undei stood 
 that these little transactions are kept secret. Probably 
 she wanted to test these pretty deceptions," rubbing 
 them smartly, and evidently pleased to see how com 
 pletely they had deceived the bearer. 
 
 Ralfe had somewhat recovered his outer calmness. 
 " I don t think she would care to have you mention it to 
 any one else. Did she leave her name ? " 
 
 " Let s see. No, come to think of it, she didn t. She 
 only left her initials, S. V." 
 
 " Yes those are the initials of my residence, ; Spray 
 View, " said Ralfe quickly. " I suppose you bought the 
 diamonds ? " he added carelessly, hazarding a guess at 
 what had become of them. 
 
 " Yes. Three hundred and twenty -five dollars was 
 fair, wasn t it ? " 
 
 Ralfe felt as if he should choke. The air became 
 stagnant. He clinched his hand to steady himself. 
 
 " Is that what you paid her ? "
 
 BARGAINING FOE, HONOR 157 
 
 " Yes, sir. She was a good judge of stones. She 
 wanted three hundred and seventy-five dollars, but 
 finally took up with my offer." 
 
 For a moment Ralfe felt as if he must rush out of the 
 place to breathe. He controlled himself, however, and 
 thought, " I must not arouse suspicion. I must bargain 
 for them or he will suspect. What if he has sold them ! " 
 
 " Did she give you any orders to retain them ? " said he. 
 " Had she an intention of buying them back again ? " 
 
 " Not at all, she drove a sharp bargain for them, and 
 sold them outright." 
 
 " I suppose you would not sell them foi the same 
 money ? " he queried, carelessly. 
 
 " Not if I know it ! " 
 
 " Then you have them ? " 
 
 "Yes, I haven t done any thing with them." 
 
 " What will you sell them for ? " feeling all the time 
 as if he were bargaining for his own honor, his life, 
 with an unspeakable disgust and shame. 
 
 "I don t know as I want to sell. Diamonds are on 
 the rise. I think I shall set them as a cluster pin." 
 
 " Wouldn t you take three hundred and seventy-five 
 dollars for them, unset ? " 
 
 " Well, no, I don t think I could exactly do that." 
 
 " What will you take ? " said Ralfe sharply, fumbling 
 impatiently in his note-book. " Come, come, set a price. 
 I will buy them and have them set right back in their 
 places if you make it reasonable ; if not I shall go else 
 where," and he picked up Helen s ring and began to put 
 it in his purse. " Oh, if he would say five hundred dol 
 lars and be done with it," he thought, chafing at the 
 man s slowness for what sum would he not gladly 
 have paid to once get away from that place ! 
 
 " I ll take four hundred dollars," said the dealer at 
 last, looking shrewdly at his customer.
 
 158 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " Very well ! " with a sigh of relief. " Here is rrn 
 check; and I want that ring done by five o clock at 
 latest. It cannot be so great a matter to exchange these 
 stones. Send the ring to Mrs. Fielding, Spray View." 
 
 The loose diamonds, which had now been produced, 
 sparkled in a ray of sunshine which fell across the little 
 velvet pad. 
 
 " I rely on you to use the very stones that were in it 
 before," said Ealfe sharply, looking at their modest 
 glitter closely. 
 
 " I ve been in this place twenty -five years," said Mr. 
 Griffin proudly, " and I never had any trouble yet." 
 
 " Pardon me," said Mr. Fielding, going, " it was not 
 for the value of the diamonds. It was for their associa 
 tions. It was a wedding-ring."
 
 A MORNING CANTEK 159 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 TWO HEAKTS. 
 
 " Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all its chords with 
 
 might; 
 Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of 
 
 sight." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 ON starting out for their ride that morning, Sardia 
 and Helen were both in the gayest spirits. She, having 
 been so constantly confined to the house, had been long 
 ing for a gallop in the fresh air, and her guest, who sel 
 dom had a moment s tete a tete with her, felt that air to 
 be a breath from Paradise, as they gently cantered away. 
 Their road stretched inland, back from the frequented 
 path by the sea, and after two or three miles they found 
 themselves in quiet woodland ways, crossing occasion 
 ally some brook with its willow embowered bridge, or 
 winding in and out among the pine-clad mounds and 
 hollows of a rolling country. The fresh smells of the 
 morning rose like an incense, and, still undisputed by 
 the sun, light wreaths of mist hung waveringly over 
 the marshes, tipping the grasses with pearly drops and 
 making the wide-stretched cobwebs like fairy tents hung 
 with opals. They cantered a long time without speak 
 ing, she drinking in the glory of the early day, and he 
 drinking in the glory of her beauty, her companionship, 
 her presence. As they turned into a nook-like bridle 
 path, whose edges were dotted with tufts of earliest 
 blue asters, that rarely modest flower which like a
 
 160 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 maiden s eye looks natural love into your own, a flight 
 of bluejays made the sun-gilt trees a windy rustle, with 
 notes and whirs of wings all mixed, and flashing snowy 
 tips of tails and crests anod ! 
 
 Both stopped to listen until their strange wild notes 
 broke the mist far away in a wooded valley. 
 
 " I was much interested in a sentence of John Fiske s, 
 the other day," said Helen, looking around with a com 
 prehensive glance. " He said, The material is but the 
 temporary relations, otherwise unknown, between our 
 selves and the Infinite Deity. Yes ! to give us an 
 individual enjoyment He placed us in natural relations, 
 and then, how He manifests Himself ! How He shows 
 Himself ! How He speaks himself out to eye and ear, 
 taste and smell and touch ! How in that robin s cry He 
 warbles Here am I ! How in those nodding plumes of 
 wind-bowed grasses He sighs softly, Here I am, dear ! 
 How He comes and floods our senses with those locust 
 blossoms, murmuring Here is your Father, little ones ! 
 and in that sweep of clouds across the serene heavens, 
 how He bends down His face to utter the same appeal 
 for recognition, ; Children, look higher ! I am above 
 you ! He manifests himself in temporary relations to 
 the finite senses in so grand a way, what do you think 
 His manifestations will be, His permanent manifesta 
 tions, in spirit, not in matter ? " 
 
 Sardia answered with a smile of perfect sympathy. 
 
 " There will be no limit, no end," he said. " The ima 
 gination fails to picture it. But oh ! Helen, I am glad 
 we know it beforehand, many do not." 
 
 Helen took off her hat and let the breeze blow her soft 
 hair in fluffy curls from her flushed face. 
 
 Sardia smiled, and dismounting, came and patted the 
 neck of her horse, looking up at her with so dear, so 
 exquisite an expression, that she stooped forward and 
 softly touched his shoulder.
 
 SO SWEET A SPOT 161 
 
 " How good you are," she murmured. 
 
 He gave her a grateful glance, but turned and slowly 
 gazed about him, as if to lose nothing of so sweet a spot. 
 Then looking again at her with a thrill of deep joy in 
 his voice, he said softly, 
 
 " Such little scenes in one s life are the rhymes and 
 songs amidst the blank verse of the drama. They come 
 into the melancholy solidity of every-day existence, as 
 some of the refrains in the tragedies of Shakespeare, or 
 take one s fancy a-roaming like the fairy shows of Mid 
 summer Night s Dream. 
 
 I know a bank whereon the wild thyme grows, 
 Where oxlips and the nodding viole^ blows, 
 
 steals with kindred poesy into the sensitive mind, and 
 leaves an impress of ethereal beauty." 
 
 " Our home has been very sweet this summer, has it 
 not ? " said Helen, allowing her dewy eyes to rest wist 
 fully on his face. " Never in all my life have I been so 
 situated ! Never so free from criticism, never so un 
 shackled from the heavy load of conventionalism, for 
 after all, our party are so delightfully Bohemian, that 
 we think but little of rites and rules ! I feel at ease to 
 do, dress, laugh, think, read, play, sing, shout at my own 
 sweet will, and to my heart s content, and all in an 
 atmosphere of tenderness, good-will and approval, which 
 I find rich with new life ! Every one is so kind to me 
 so considerate ! Even Ealfe is kind. Is this freedom 
 the gift of marriage ? " 
 
 His cheek paled as he answered, 
 
 " You, grateful for kindness, who make life a joy to 
 every one about you ? Why, who could have the cour 
 age to be unkind, or cold, or Helen, I cannot bear it. 
 I cannot bear to see those unshed drops in your eyes ! 
 Yes, to me your home has been the dearest spot of
 
 162 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 earth ! To me the very air you breathe, the ground you 
 tread, the object you touch, are sacred. Your every mood 
 appeals to my soul with articulate meanings. I exult in 
 your joy, and feel my whole being droop when sadness 
 clouds your sweet countenance. I thought not to tell 
 you, I have striven not to tell you, dear, of what you 
 still must have read so plainly but God, I suffer, 
 and for once am wholly unmanned." 
 
 " No, never that," said she, looking into his face with 
 an air of perfect faith, " I know your soul too well for 
 that." 
 
 " But I love you ! " he answered, returning her gaze 
 with cheeks so white and eyes so strained with anguish 
 that he seemed transformed and ghost-like. 
 
 Her own blanched with intense pity. 
 
 " Take me down," said she, " and let us tell our whole 
 hearts out." 
 
 "I cannot, I dare not," he answered, shutting his 
 teeth. " I shall clasp you to my heart if you do. Get 
 down here, dearest, I cannot touch you ! " 
 
 She leapt lightly on to the fallen log, and went to a 
 softly-bedded spot, where, casting aside her hat, she sat 
 waiting for him to come. In a moment or two he flung 
 himself on the ground and buried his face in the cool 
 green moss. 
 
 " I have known from the first, dear friend, that you 
 loved me, and you have known from the first that I love 
 Ealfe. Can any one in this world more deeply appre 
 ciate what you feel than I ? Are there any words you 
 could use to me that I should not use to him ? Yet 
 shall this divide us ? It has not. All these weeks your 
 heart and mine have been close together in a bond of 
 mutual pain. Our union is a friendship of unspeakable 
 sadness ; but it is all we can hope for, since it is our 
 destiny to love separately. Oh, Sardia, be greater than
 
 PERFECT TRUST 163 
 
 love itself, be my true friend. Turn love into Christ- 
 like abnegation ! You are capable of it, you will do 
 it!" 
 
 " Why do you love him so ? " he cried desperately. 
 
 " Why do you love me so ? " asked she. 
 
 " Why ? " and his tone seemed to concentrate every 
 grace, and glory, and virtue of womanhood and angel 
 hood in the one syllable. " Helen, do not ! It is almost 
 blasphemous to yourself. What soul that reads the 
 purity of yours can fail to love you ? " 
 
 " That is just what I say in my secret heart of him," 
 she murmured wistfully. 
 
 " Yet he does not love you ! " The retort sprang to 
 his lips involuntarily, but he checked it in time. Should 
 he be deliberately cruel because she was unconsciously 
 so? "Helen," he only said wearily, "what are we to 
 do ? It seems to me, dear, that we are the only ones 
 who can unwind this tangled skein. If you knew how 
 Avilling I am to help you if you dreamed that even 
 though I love you so deeply I still I shall not allow 
 that to make any difference why, I stumble in my 
 speech like a school-boy ! I beg your pardon !" 
 
 " You mean to say, that no matter how you may suffer 
 yourself, you desire my happiness most and will sacri 
 fice your own love to give me content. Is not that it ? " 
 
 " Yes but how did you know ? " 
 
 "That is just what I have planned to do myself 
 for Kalfe," said she gently. " I read love, your great 
 love, straight out of my own heart. What I can do for 
 love s sake, you will do, noble, sublime soul that you 
 are ! Do I not know that ? Have I not trusted it ? 
 Do I not lean on you as I would lean on my Saviour, 
 were He here to speak to me ? Is it possible you think 
 I do not understand you, when not an hour passes that 
 my thought does not leap out to you and feel your sus-
 
 164 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 taining thought respond ? Mine is no light feeling for 
 you, dear, kind one ! If I were to choose the wide world 
 over for a man I could trust to the end, it would be 
 you!" 
 
 He heard these words with the glow stealing warmly 
 back into his cheek, the fire into his eyes, the tenderness 
 and resignation into his heart. " How can I thank you, 
 best of all women ! But trust me now. Open your 
 very soul to me. I feel that at this moment a crisis has 
 been reached in all our lives. We must be brave and 
 meet it." 
 
 " Sybil Visonti ? " Helen half whispered. 
 
 " It is enough. Her name indicates it all. Must she 
 triumph ? " 
 
 " But is it triumph ? Is it not rather justice ? " ques 
 tioned Helen. " You know they loved before he saw 
 me; and some slight misunderstanding, some pique, 
 some little estrangement, threw him into my into his 
 present position. Is it right ? Have I not robbed her 
 of a thousand things ? Can you blame her if she looks 
 upon me as her enemy, and upon him as her natural and 
 proper mate ? How can she help doing her best to keep 
 his love ? Remember her Southern nature, her fiery 
 temperament. His love is all she can keep. I have 
 taken his name ; have become his legal wife ; the 
 mistress of his home ; and how did I deserve it or win 
 it ? He did not know me. He had no time to study 
 me. He was almost forced to marry me. It was a ques 
 tion of money, money ! " and the disgust which came 
 into her voice showed how truly she despised it. " Hon 
 estly, can you blame her ? " 
 
 " Perhaps it is the money which she really envies 
 you ? " said he. 
 
 "No!" jumping to her feet. "If I thought that! 
 But it cannot be. How could she expect to gain his
 
 A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION 165 
 
 money now ? What could be her object ? Oh, she 
 loves him. It is nothing else." 
 
 " Yet when he had a contagious disease she left him ! 
 Helen, would you follow the man you loved into his new 
 home, and try to entice him away from his bride, whether 
 he loved her or not ? Don t answer me. So base a 
 thought never entered your mind, or could enter it. But 
 that is precisely what she is doing. She means to rob 
 you of your husband s love, then of your husband s per 
 son, and then of your husband s money. She is unscru 
 pulous. There is a passage in her life which she con 
 ceals from ever}- one. The Princess Menshikoff knows 
 it, and if I choose to ask her I can know it too. This secret 
 once known might ruin her, so madame has hinted, and 
 when she hinted she frowned like fate. Shall I find out 
 and tell you what it is, that you may guard yourself and 
 Kalfe, perhaps save Ralfe from social and moral destruc 
 tion?" 
 
 "Certainly not ! " said Helen decidedly. " Miss Visonti 
 is my guest. Her past is her own. I have nothing to 
 do with it, and have no curiosity about it. If she is 
 evil, God will requite her ill deeds. I will not play the 
 spy. I do not believe in bad means to good ends." 
 
 Sardia s face beamed with pride. " How impossible 
 it is to strike a false note in you ! " he murmured. 
 
 But she did not heed him. "What I wish to do is 
 this. If Sybil is worthy of Ralfe, and their love is a 
 noble and lasting one, I wish them to belong to each 
 other. I wish to annul this marriage which to him is a 
 horrible bondage, and placing her hand in his, wish them 
 God s blessing, and then go away somewhere and 
 die." And she broke into passionate sobs. 
 
 As she bowed her head to hide her tear-stained cheeks, 
 and the silken hair half fell in flossy folds over her 
 shapely neck, Sardia bent over it, and then taking a
 
 166 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 little lock in his hand, kissed it. It was a silent bene 
 diction. 
 
 "Dear heart," he said, when she had become quiet, 
 "most people would laugh at such a Quixotic notion. 
 They would tell you it was impossible, romantic, absurd, 
 ridiculous. But they would not understand you as I 
 do" 
 
 " Then you think I am right ? " she exclaimed eagerly, 
 heroism like a flame starting into her looks. 
 
 But swifter still than that, a terrible temptation now 
 assailed Sir Sardia. " What if I should counsel her to 
 follow out this wild dream ? " he thought. " Supposing 
 she were encouraged to free him and free herself ! 
 Where then would she fly for protection, sympathy, 
 comfort, love ? Where but to me ? " 
 
 To her surprise, instead of answering her, he walked 
 away and sat down on the log, dropping his face into 
 his hands. How could she know what a fierce struggle 
 went on in that keenly smitten soul ! How could she 
 dream that behind those hiding hands was a face growing 
 paler and paler as devil after devil of temptation held up 
 before him the bliss, the rapture, the joy of holding this 
 woman in his longing embrace and lavishing on her a 
 love which should drive the thought of Ralfe forever 
 out of her mind ? The silence became oppressive. The 
 impatient stamping of the horses, the rubbing of their 
 bridles against the trees, the impertinent hum of a vagrant 
 bee, sounded to both so loud as to be startling. With 
 that strange comprehension of trifles which comes in 
 the midst of supreme emotions, they even noticed the 
 soft rustle of the wind through the long grasses. 
 
 " He believes I should do it," Helen was thinking, 
 " and is suffering in anticipation of what I must bear," 
 while her spirits grew even more sad. 
 
 " Sustain me, Thou Righteousness ! " his heart was cry 
 ing within him.
 
 COMFORT 167 
 
 At last, raising his head, and looking about in a dazed 
 fashion, as if not sure it was light, he answered slowly, 
 " Forgive me, dear, for keeping you waiting, but I have 
 been trying to think wisely for you. I admire, you 
 cannot know how much, the grand, the generous impulse 
 which leads you to plan so strange a method of righting 
 what you deem a wrong, and if we finally conclude it is a 
 wrong, I am not sure but I should say Do as you think 
 best. But let us be very sure. I sometimes think that no 
 marriage is in vain. It seems to me that God does rule 
 the lives of His children. It may not seem so it often 
 seems impossible that anything of God could exist in an 
 unhappy marriage, but, after all, is it not ourselves 
 who make or mar the opportunities which He puts into 
 our lives ? If every marriage were made the best of by 
 both, would there ever be a divorce ? So in faith that 
 He knew, who separated them and joined you to him, 
 what was best for all, let us be very sure, very certain, 
 that you would be wise in putting the bond asunder. It is 
 Ralfe s best good that you wish to secure, not so much 
 his happiness as his highest good. As yet we do not 
 know that she is capable of giving him that, or that she 
 is worthy of intimate association with him at all. Will 
 you not wait until you prove her so ? " 
 
 These words, spoken painfully, slowly, as if dragged 
 from the very depths of his being, fell on Helen s ears 
 with a promise of infinite comfort. With what a sense 
 of relief, of blessed respite, of almost peace, she thought 
 them over, language can hardly express. 
 
 " How you comfort me, how you content me ! " she 
 exclaimed, going to his side and lifting up a grateful 
 countenance which sweetly spoke her thanks. " What a 
 true, wise friend you are. How always strong, good and 
 restful you are to me ! How I can depend upon you ! Do 
 you know what an inspiration you have just given me ?
 
 168 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 How hope has blazed into my heart again like a beauti 
 ful vision ? You seemed for a moment like a great, 
 grand angel who had vanquished something evil. I 
 believe you did." And with childlike openness she looked 
 with rapt gaze into his eyes. 
 
 "Earth is no place for you, darling. You see too 
 clearly, and seeing so always brings such pain. Yes, I 
 vanquished something, for I remembered your words: 
 Do I not lean on you as I would lean on my Saviour, 
 were He here to speak to me ? I am no Judas." 
 
 She could not understand him, but as they slowly 
 mounted and rode homeward, she often glanced at his 
 face, stern and set in a melancholy over which would 
 occasionally flit a tender smile as he looked at her, with 
 a strange sense of loss, as if some change in him had 
 drawn him nearer Heaven and a little more away from 
 earth. Her sensitive nature, touched to the core by his 
 devotion and full of all womanly longing to comfort, 
 soothe and bless him, suffered more in this homeward 
 ride for him, than for herself or all the world beside. 
 
 As they neared the town, he suddenly stopped his 
 horse and drawing hers close beside him, took her hand. 
 
 "Let us go on patiently as we have been," said he, 
 "believing all will be well in the end. If this woman is 
 unworthy of Ealfe s love ; if she simply awakens passion 
 for the sake of the possibilities of his leaving you and 
 giving her a life of luxury and ease, you may depend 
 upon it, she will fail ; for she is certain to make missteps 
 which will discover her plans and blast her character in 
 his eyes. No evil purpose can be carried on, week after 
 week, without the betrayal of character. Kalfe is only 
 blinded. He lives in the clouds. Let her show him some 
 trait which will shock his sense of honor, and he will 
 awaken with a start. Besides, I am convinced that there 
 are adversaries on her track with which she will be power-
 
 A FRIEND INDEED 169 
 
 less to contend. As for me, I have been thinking dur 
 ing the last mile or two, what it is best for me to do. I 
 had an impulse to go away, yes, to the uttermost parts 
 of the earth ; but I believe that would be cowardly. 
 You do not wish me to leave you now, in the midst 
 of trouble ? I will stay right by you, Helen. You 
 may need me. You know me too well now, not to feel 
 that this is all. I shall not pain you after this with 
 words of love. But Helen, remember, I love you. 
 That is as immutable as the laws of God. And knowing 
 that, trust it." 
 
 The countenance of beautiful gratitude, faith and 
 affection she turned to him, shook his whole being with 
 a pang that again rendered him silent, but when she 
 softly bent over her saddle and kissed his white ungloved 
 hand with her warm, fresh lips, a thrill of life, a revivi 
 fication of strength and heavenly peace crept sweetly 
 through his veins.
 
 170 SAKDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 DISCOVERED. 
 
 I waive the quantum o the sin, 
 
 The hazard of concealing; 
 But och ! it hardens a within, 
 
 And petrifies the feeling! 
 
 Burns. 
 
 THERE is an unbought grace of feeling which some 
 rare women possess for their own sex, to which even the 
 word chivalry could not add dignity. And yet no other 
 so roundly expresses the delicacy of honor which bor 
 ders on generous pride the fear of intrusion or self- 
 assertion which modestly waives its own rights ; or the 
 swift and gracious acknowledgment of another s claims 
 or desires. Not all have that sense of justice "imbued 
 with sanctity of reason," which can brook the advance 
 ment of a rival. 
 
 Having touched the sublime sharp summit of her own 
 passion, and reached that noble altitude from which she 
 could readily survey her situation, Helen, by her inher 
 ent sense of righteousness, determined, unconsciously, 
 her manner of action. She was incapable of double- 
 mindedness, and being sure that her husband was worthy 
 of the highest happiness, she awaited whatever issue 
 might arise, with the sole purpose of furthering his joy. 
 Few could endure with equanimity the presence of the 
 woman who daily robbed them of the love they craved. 
 But, with an invulnerable sense of justice, Helen recog 
 nized the fact that this affection had arisen long before 
 she had known her husband, and acknowledged with
 
 A WOMAN S GALLANTRY 171 
 
 self-abasement and bitter regret, that she had inoppor 
 tunely, although so innocently, stepped between two 
 lovers, who doubtless might easily have explained some 
 unfortunate misconception. The more deeply she loved, 
 herself, the more humble she grew, and at times her 
 position as the unloved wife of a man whose whole 
 heart yearned for another, and that other her most inti 
 mate friend, was well-nigh intolerable. To Sybil, whom 
 personally she had loved and admired from her child 
 hood, she gave a sweet patience and tender courtesy of 
 manner which would have touched a generous heart to 
 its depths. It was as if she flung her very spirit with 
 compassion and determination around these two, as a 
 protective and salutary power. She equalized their 
 loves with her own, and inevitably made a divine rapport 
 of true gallantry between herself and them which pene 
 trated their souls without presenting itself in words to 
 their minds. Ealfe instinctively recognized her as his 
 silent ally without being able to give a reason for what, 
 in fact, was intuition. Sybil felt it also, but with an 
 opposition and repulsion which sprang from her egotistic 
 pride. It Avas the natural hatred of a dark and narrow 
 intention for the air-sweetness of wide, clear, high and 
 open motive. But with a certain consistent inconsist 
 ency, she enjoyed and accepted all the practical favors 
 heaped upon her by Helen s stintless hand ; nor did she 
 scruple to make her wishes known by a hundred artistic 
 methods, any one of which would have appeared the 
 simplest and most casual observation to any one not on 
 the alert to please. Realizing with the intensest sensi 
 tiveness the possibility of what Sybil might have com 
 manded had Ralfe s wishes been carried out, there was 
 hardly a fancy which her friend manifested for anything 
 she possessed that Helen did not quietly gratify, and 
 to Sybil s secret amazement and contempt, she often 
 gave more than was requested.
 
 172 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 On the afternoon of the flay when she had desired 
 Ralfe to take the ring to be mended, she was in her own 
 room dressing, when Sybil, as was her frequent custom, 
 tapped at the door, and at the same moment, Wilson 
 deferentially asked Miss Visonti if madame was in. 
 Helen spoke pleasantly as she opened the door and 
 said, 
 
 " Ah, Wilson, what have you there ? " 
 
 " A package for you, madame," and bowed himself 
 away, while Sybil cried enthusiastically, 
 
 "Jewelry, I know ! Richest gems in smallest cases." 
 
 Helen smiled as she unwrapped the tiny box and 
 answered, 
 
 "Nothing new this time. It is only my ring," and 
 took off the cover. On the top lay a narrow paper 
 which proved to be the bill carefully made out and 
 receipted, which Ealfe in his agitation had com 
 pletely forgotten. Helen read it with a look of aston 
 ishment, but said nothing and continued to examine the 
 box. In the midst of the pink cotton was the ring, 
 flashing its well-known gems in a pretty glitter, and 
 beside it a tiny tissue paper contained the paste stones 
 which had filled their places. 
 
 Sybil had breathlessly watched the disclosure of her 
 guilt with a face flushing from dark red to gray, and 
 now, convinced that concealment was useless, sprang to 
 Helen s side and dropped gracefully at her feet, hiding 
 her dark head in the drapery of her skirts. 
 
 " Oh, do not condemn me, dearest," she half sobbed, 
 half murmured. " How horribly unlucky I am ! If you 
 knew, if you knew the terrible necessity which drove 
 me to it ! you would not utter a word to scold me. I 
 dared not ask to borrow such a sum, I was too proud to 
 do so ; and you know, dear Helen, how miserably small 
 my pittance of an income is. It was only for two or
 
 THE DOMINANT " I " 173 
 
 three days. If you had not happened to ask for it, 
 you would never have known anything about it. I 
 was going to have the stones changed myself this very 
 day." As Helen did not reply she looked up pitifully 
 and anxiously into her face, her tear-stained cheeks ap 
 pealing more than her words. " Do you not believe it ? 
 See, see, I have the money, this moment, oh, I swear 
 to you I only gave security in that way for a few, 
 few days ! Here, take it, take it ! " and she drew a roll 
 of bills from her purse. " I am so glad I can confess 
 so glad you found it out. Was it not rather a clever 
 way ? But I felt dreadfully anxious, oh ! " rising and 
 throwing up her arms. " I feel as if a weight were off 
 me ! " 
 
 Some peaches were on the table. She picked one 
 up and began to eat it. Her hostess smiled. In spite 
 of the shock of disgust and displeasure which this 
 unlooked-for confession provoked, she could not help a 
 sense of scornful amusement at the ever-present, ever- 
 dominant self, the " I " of this unscrupulous woman, 
 who, in the very midst of exposure and degradation, 
 could admire herself as clever, and, thinking only of 
 what she felt, cast not a glance on the moral phase of 
 the affair. She had not brushed the tear from her 
 cheek before she had begun to indulge herself. The 
 fruit looked tempting ; why should she not eat it ? 
 
 Helen as yet had not uttered a word, but stood and 
 looked at Sybil, who daintily ate the peach, with a posi 
 tively nonplussed expression. 
 
 She was mechanically holding the money which had 
 been thrust in her hand, and seemed at a loss how to 
 act or answer. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " said Sybil brightly, looking 
 up with a childish expression from the fruit. " Haven t 
 I explained enough ? Haven t I done all I could ? I m
 
 174 SAEDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 sure I have paid for my folly pretty roundly. I hate 
 to cry ! You always make such a to-do over any little 
 trifle like that ! " 
 
 "It is a question of honor moral and legal," said 
 Helen, speaking for the first time. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " cried Sybil impatiently ; " if I 
 hand you the money to pay the bill, what more do you 
 want ? What has honor to do with it ? " 
 
 Her friend gave a little sigh. 
 
 " I think," she said slowly and with an air of quiet 
 determination, " that I shall take this money which you 
 offer me, as an equivalent for what has been paid out. 
 It is but fair. I cannot say how sorry I am that you 
 should have been so unfortunately pressed for money as 
 to be obliged to do something so unbecoming. I beg 
 of you henceforth to make me your confidante and tell 
 me plainly of your needs, rather than to resort to such 
 devices. Pardon me, Sybil, but I do not think it clever. 
 I need not tell a person of your intelligence that such 
 an affair could be made very disagreeable for you if 
 practised on any but a friend. Certainly, it would 
 have been better to have trusted me rather than to 
 have risked my confidence. Have I ever refused you 
 anything ? " 
 
 " No, but you would have refused so large a sum as 
 that," replied Sybil sullenly, looking askance at the 
 money which her friend still held. 
 
 Her ingratitude seemed to close a door in Helen s 
 heart. She folded up the bills and put them away. 
 
 " My first impulse was to give that back to you," said 
 she, coming close to Sybil and touching her hair gently. 
 " I thought if you had so terrible a necessity as to cause 
 you to sell my diamonds that you still must need it far 
 more than I. But I still have so much confidence in 
 your intention to have replaced the stones, that I will
 
 A PERFECT BALANCE 175 
 
 not dishonor your integrity by so indelicate an act as 
 to refuse to allow you to stand squarely with yourself 
 and with me. But if you find yourself again in similar 
 circumstances, I assure you that you will find me happy 
 and ready to help you." 
 
 Sybil could not withstand this sweet and healthy 
 consideration which seemed to be emitted in steady 
 and limitless kindness, yet which calmly preserved the 
 rightful measure of its way. With a momentary impulse 
 of admiration she kissed the hand so softly touching 
 her and murmured, " How God must love you ! " but 
 added to herself as instantaneously, " But I do not ! " 
 
 A light knock at the door gave her an excuse to 
 escape from what she mentally termed "no end of a row," 
 and she quickly went out through another chamber, 
 not waiting to see who entered. It proved to be Ralfe, 
 who had bethought him of the receipt which he feared 
 the honest jeweller would enclose with the ring. "If 
 so, Helen will certainly comprehend the whole thing," 
 he thought anxiously ; and at last he became so troubled 
 that he could not help trying to ascertain. 
 
 It was but seldom that he appeared in Helen s sitting 
 room, and now he paused hesitatingly on the threshold, 
 although her voice told him pleasantly to come in. She 
 approached the door with a brilliant smile lighting her 
 features. The excitement of the interview had given 
 her cheeks a flush of divinest rose. He thought he had 
 never seen her so full of an inexpressible completeness. 
 She seemed in her place and moved with a perfect bal 
 ance. Her eyes were at once bright and tender. 
 
 He said carelessly, " I wondered if the man had sent 
 your ring. I remembered that you would like it for 
 dinner." 
 
 " Yes," she replied almost as carelessly, " and I desire 
 to be Miss Visonti s agent for the nonce, and pay the
 
 176 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 bill which you so kindly settled. She has just left me 
 the money. She said it was a mere matter of a day." 
 
 " Did you know of it then ? " he asked, very much 
 surprised. 
 
 " No, not until she told me just now. But I want to 
 thank you from my heart, not only for seeing that my 
 mother s ring should suffer no harm, but for endeavoring 
 to prevent me from knowing my friend s mistake. Of 
 course I was troubled that she had not saved herself an 
 unpleasant experience by borrowing the money of me. 
 I appreciate your delicacy fully." 
 
 " The jeweller sent the bill, I suppose ? To tell the 
 truth I forgot it. I did not intend you should know 
 anything about it." 
 
 Helen smiled with the least touch of sarcasm. 
 
 " No, I suppose not ! But you cannot escape my 
 gratitude. Here is the money Sybil gave me. It was 
 doubtless a very trying necessity which forced her to 
 this act. She said she was ashamed too proud to 
 borrow such a sum, and that she certainly intended 
 to replace the stones." And she handed him four one- 
 hundred-dollar notes. 
 
 He started as if stung. He instantly recognized 
 them. 
 
 " Does she know I did the errand ? " he asked in 
 a low voice, looking at the money with a singular 
 expression. 
 
 "No. I felt sure that you would not like to pain her 
 by letting her know that her secret had become known 
 to you. Surely it was enough for her to suffer the 
 knowledge that I had discovered it." 
 
 He flushed with sudden emotion. 
 
 " It is you who deserve gratitude. We both owe you 
 gratitude beyond words." And with a look that she 
 never forgot he suddenly left Helen alone.
 
 SARDIA KNEW 177 
 
 " How strange ! " thought she, as she stood gazing 
 unconsciously at the closed door, "how strange, that 
 so soon, so very soon after our determination to let 
 things take their own course, this incident should occur ! 
 How clearly Sardia reads human nature ! What would 
 he say if he knew this ! I know ; he would repeat, God 
 takes care of His children. " Then softly dropping 
 on her knees, she clasped her hands and uttered, " But, 
 dear Father, she is Thy child too."
 
 178 SAKDIA: A STOHY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A VAMPIRE. 
 
 " Beautiful as sweet! 
 
 And young as beautiful! And soft as young! 
 And gay as soft! and innocent as gay ! " 
 
 Young. 
 
 " Find out the cause of this effect; 
 Or rather say the cause of this defect, 
 For this effect defective comes by cause." 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 SARDIA stood leaning against an urn of flowers by 
 the great entrance one evening, while Guy by his side 
 idly tapped him on the shoulder. They stood together 
 in that attitude of unconscious confidence which needs 
 no words to betray a mutual respect and affection. 
 They were both watching two ladies who were gently 
 moving over the grass, absorbed in low conversation. 
 
 One was Lulu, who was half encircled by the embra 
 cing arm of Sybil Visonti, and her cheeks were dotted by 
 two bright hectic spots, while all the rest of her pretty 
 face was unusually pale. Every moment or two she 
 instinctively half thrust away the little dark hand that 
 lay on her hip, yet she was so engaged in conversation 
 that she did not persist. It was a nervous, unconscious 
 movement, evidently not directed by the will. 
 
 Sardia suddenly turned a keen questioning glance on 
 Guy and said, " Do you like to see that ? " 
 
 Mr. Thome looked amused and surprised. " Does a 
 man like to look at the woman he loves ? At two beau-
 
 GUY S DEEP EEVERY 179 
 
 tiful women displaying their prettiest charms ? Oh, 
 no ! of course not," and he laughed. 
 
 " If I loved a woman I would take care of her," his 
 friend said in a cold, slow way. 
 
 Guy started up. " Is it chilly ? " and he moved to 
 wards the house. "I will get a wrap." 
 
 " Stay. It is not chilly. Do you believe in animal 
 magnetism, Guy ? The power of one will over another ? 
 If *you do not you cannot see those women from the 
 same standpoint that I do. But is not Lulu thin, ex 
 citable, changed ? Where is her blithe laugh ? I 
 miss it." 
 
 Guy looked troubled. "So do I. Yet I had not 
 thought of it. And it is I who love her. Sardia, old 
 fellow, tell me, out with it. What do you mean ? " 
 
 "I cannot better answer you than to tell you to 
 watch. Open your eyes," and he sauntered off. 
 
 Guy fell into a deep revery. The soft chatter of the 
 voices kept up an accompaniment to his thought. He 
 earnestly compared in his own mind what Lulu had 
 been in the early summer, and what she was now. 
 
 Sardia s few words had reminded him of his own 
 vague fears, which, strongly accented on the Visonti s 
 first arrival, had been lulled to rest by contact with 
 her inscrutable charm, and he now found his darling 
 brought before him in a new light. She was no longer 
 the gay, merry, light-hearted, laughing Lulu. She no 
 longer spent her days in every possible out-door exer 
 cise ; " wild " over horseback riding ; having a craze 
 for a tricycle ; rowing her tiny hands brown and callous ; 
 only too happy when standing the living figure-head of 
 his jolly sail-boat and glorying in the rough weather or 
 stiff breezes that tossed her like a plume. Where was 
 the shout with which she raced down-stairs, and when 
 softly rebuked for being not quite lady -like, the smiling
 
 180 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOYE 
 
 pout and coquettish defiance with which she sprang 
 from his detaining arms ? Where were the overflow 
 ing life, the madcap pranks with which she had assailed 
 him and tortured him, leading him a dance which only 
 made him adore her more and more ? Now he found 
 her lying languidly in the library or on the long seats 
 in the summer-house. She refused the beautiful twi 
 light walks so dear to him, she was so tired. She lay 
 back among the cushions of the boat and gazed drearujly 
 across the waves, instead of insisting on minding the 
 wheel. Her sweet temper had thrown out sudden 
 flashes of anger and irritability, in a moment atoned 
 for, to be sure, by a melancholy little prayer for forgive 
 ness, why, had he been blind, deaf, dumb ? Fool 
 that he was, had it not been for Sardia how long would 
 his soul have been stupidly unmindful and unheeding ? 
 He rose from his seat on the step and walked swiftly 
 towards the young women. 
 
 " Lulu, I want you," he said sharply. 
 
 The Yisonti stopped in her walk, and Lulu gazed at 
 him in a sort of unseeing way, as if her mind was so far 
 off that she had not comprehended. For a moment the 
 man and woman looked into each other s eyes with a 
 singular intensity. If she read anything that was in 
 his thoughts, it elicited only defiance in Sybil. She 
 drew her arm closer about Lulu with a sort of possessive 
 pressure and looking softly into her eyes, slowly moved 
 her away, saying gently but significantly, 
 
 " Lulu, J want you." 
 
 It was a mockery so delicate and so well done that it 
 left Guy standing there, unable to utter a word, although 
 he literally shook from head to foot with a sudden tide 
 of hot yet impotent rage. Yet what could he do ? Here 
 were two ladies chatting, * and one playfully retained 
 her companion. "\Yas he to murder her on the spot ?
 
 "YOU SHALL LOVE ME" 181 
 
 He felt like it. He went into the house and to his 
 room, threw off his coat, put his heels on top of a chair- 
 back and smoked. It was a long time before he rejoined 
 the party. He did not know, why should he ? how 
 in spite of the little episode of her first visit to Sybil s 
 room, Lulu had almost immediately overlooked and for 
 gotten her sudden disgust. The very next day she had 
 been made so conscience-stricken by the extreme kind 
 ness of Miss Visonti, and had been so quietly laughed 
 out of her "pretty anger" by her new friend, that she 
 felt she had been absurdly annoyed. Sybil was so 
 exquisitely thoughtful, so delicate, her devotion to Lulu 
 was so unpretending, yet so certain, that it exercised a 
 singular influence, a soft flattery to which her innocent 
 heart yielded with gratitude. She began to know the 
 charm of being sought, sought persistently, patiently, 
 humbly. She began to feel that her love and friendship 
 to this one woman at least was invaluable, possessing 
 an exceptional preciousness. She felt that she possessed 
 the key to a thousand times richer nature than her own. 
 The magician made her believe that she herself held the 
 wand. 
 
 " You cannot get rid of me," Sybil softly whispered, 
 winding a sunny lock of Lulu s bright hair about her 
 fingers. " Nothing shall drive me away. I will hang 
 on until you love me whether you want me or not. I 
 will have you love me in spite of yourself," and every 
 tone was a caress, every syllable a tender tyranny. 
 And there were so many lovable things about her ! Her 
 conversation, rapid, caustic, witty, filled with personal 
 description and anecdote, kept the mind on the qui vive 
 to attend, while the ear was soothed by the rare modu 
 lations of her trained voice. And intellectually, Lulu 
 did love her, agree with her, appreciate her and delight 
 in association with her. It was but seldom that she was
 
 182 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 again surprised by a moral lapse, and then, how grace 
 ful was the apology. How small and illiberal the moral 
 side of the light sensualism appeared. 
 
 Lulu felt but one exaction in all this rosy intercourse. 
 Sybil insisted that she should trust her. "Believe me 
 true, true to the very core, darling. It is all I ask. Look 
 deeper than the surface. Read the core of my heart. In 
 you I see my salvation, my hope of better things. Life 
 has in its way been bitter to me. By some strange mis 
 chance, I seem never to have been understood. My quality 
 is so different from the American fibre, yet I recognize 
 in you its counterpart, a quality so subtly deep and rich 
 that the world can never fathom it. Let us fathom each 
 other. Let us prove to ourselves if to none others, that 
 there can exist between two women a love, holy, pure, 
 exalted, which no change of circumstance can alter, no 
 selfishness or jealousy can make less true. Let us enter 
 into a sweet secret together of undying faith and mutual 
 help, that for once in all this great sceptical world we 
 may bring out the possibilities of womanly character, 
 a loyalty so belied, so scouted, that but to admit it exists 
 is to be scorned." Her flashing eyes and indignant atti 
 tude supplemented their eloquence to the appeal. 
 
 And remembering with pity the sad tears, the aspira 
 tion she had overheard by the sea; her imagination 
 filled with crosses and sorrows which were all the more 
 terrible because so mysterious ; Lulu with all her sweet 
 soul tossed by varied emotions, sprang into Sybil s arms 
 and sealed the compact with a long, clinging kiss, the 
 first that she had voluntarily tendered to her woman- 
 lover. 
 
 As time went on the pressure of this exaction began 
 to be felt. Yet so supreme was her loyalty, so self-sac 
 rificing the purity of her intention, that Lulu neither 
 understood nor analyzed her position.
 
 SUBTLE ENTICEMENTS 183 
 
 With the enthusiasm of youth which had been so 
 gradually yet surely awakened, she longed to do any 
 thing, to give anything, to be anything to show the 
 intensity of her devotion, the unadulteration of her 
 friendship. Fired with the thought that she in her 
 girlish inexperience, had still in her some magnetic 
 " quality " which held this magnificent woman of the 
 world in the mesh of her lightest will, she abandoned 
 herself mentally and physically to the fascinating pleas 
 ure of giving that joy which thrilled the Visonti with 
 visible emotion. Many and many a time when taking 
 their afternoon siesta, Sybil, capturing her hand, had 
 gently drawn it to her own brown throat, her very heart, 
 where, beneath its light pressure, Lulu could feel the 
 blood leap in an ecstasy she could not understand. 
 
 "I feel as if I were floating on white clouds, dearest, 
 when you touch me. My body is light as air, and my 
 soul seems to drift into a fairy realm. What magic lies 
 in these precious finger-tips to give me such an unknown 
 happiness ! " And murmuring sweet poetic phrases, she 
 would still entice the pretty hand. 
 
 Taking advantage of a sudden influx of visitors, Sybil 
 had begged to be allowed to share her large apartment 
 with Lulu, and although Helen in her thoughtful hospi 
 tality had endeavored to leave each guest undisturbed, 
 the assurances of both that it would be only the more 
 agreeable, decided her to arrange it in that way, and 
 soon the two friends were associated far more intimately 
 than before. 
 
 And if, with an occasional access of her original ten 
 dencies, Lulu deserted Sybil for a whole day, or went 
 away with Guy to spend delicious hours of chat and fun, 
 regaining in his wholesome presence, the strong, fresh 
 vitality, which was her constitutional condition, she 
 would soon be made to feel how lonely, how sad, how
 
 184 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 longing for her had been the time for Sybil, 
 although occupied with her own affairs, protested that 
 in her heart all was dreariness without the light of 
 Lulu s smile. 
 
 Then too, the little demons of vanity and jealousy, 
 which lurk in every heart, were roused by the compar 
 ison of Helen s constancy. For Sybil claimed all that 
 was to be claimed from that source. 
 
 She was made to feel that Helen was so tender, so 
 generous, so loving, so comprehensive, not like her, 
 cold, sarcastic, indifferent, cruel, irresponsive or careless 
 of the ever-increasing love she had awakened. 
 
 That love seemed to close around her, cling to her, 
 fall about her like a beautiful gauze, through which she 
 could hear and see the outside world, biit which envel 
 oped her so perfectly as to net her in. 
 
 It was the shimering film of a soft veil which seemed 
 to shut her in, body and soul, to this enthralling friend 
 ship, against which she had but^ spasmodic inclinations 
 to struggle ; and having struggled with a vehement, 
 passionate, nerve-shaking revolt, like a sudden fury of 
 anger, suspicion, or unspeakable horror and hate, left her 
 in a weakness, a dulness and indifference, which was 
 only chafed or soothed into passive acceptance again by 
 the soft sarcasms or softer persuasions of her companion. 
 
 Of the growing familiarity of this association, Lulu 
 said nothing to Guy, although she daily declared to 
 herself that she would confess, what ? That although 
 he had warned her to beware, she had left his desire 
 unheeded ? That she had, although he begged her not to 
 stay one moment alone with the Visonti, for several 
 weeks shared her room ? 
 
 Perhaps that would seem to throw some blame on 
 Helen, and besides, was she in duty bound to run to him 
 with every little thing ? Was she not capable of ruling
 
 STAINING THE MAGNOLIA 185 
 
 her own affairs, if she could rule this lovely woman 
 with a frown ? Her pride, her shame, her sense of the 
 pleasure of her secret, all led her to keep silent, while 
 Sybil had often with pricking pleasantry scorned in a 
 general way, the idea of masculine intrusion. 
 
 "Must we make our lovers our father-confessors, our 
 guardians, our popes infallible ? " she cried one day 
 when Lulu said, "I had better ask Guy," about some 
 intended excursion. " Are you at the knee of your 
 future husband, or is he at yours ? The attitude of self- 
 abasement would not be pleasing to me, no matter how 
 much I loved a man. And mark me, sweet, what now 
 you offer, after marriage he will exact. But, of course, 
 go, tell him the whole of your dear little heart out. 
 Even if you will, tell him of my bondage to you, and 
 let him sneer at what he would call a woman s passion. 
 Subject even the sacred beauty of our love to the cynical 
 criticisms of his man-like analysis. Oh ! I am not 
 jealous of him. Do not believe that. I have never 
 intruded myself between you one hair, have I ? But, 
 Lulu, my Lulu, do not let him intrude between us," and 
 with a wild, hungry look, pitiful in its seeming intensity, 
 she pleaded as if for an almost lost treasure. 
 
 The young girl felt her brain whirl with a sense of 
 her subjugation of this woman. She assumed an expres 
 sion which infinitely amused Sybil, while it pricked her 
 to sudden wrath. Murmuring her promises and assur 
 ances as a mother soothes a nervous child, " Why, dear 
 Sybil," she said, " are you so fearful that my noble Guy 
 could not understand your tenderness for me ? You 
 wrong him, I know you do. Should he ever again 
 intimate that he he wants me all to himself, I will 
 tell him frankly, that your love and mine is something 
 totally different, so impossible to contain the same 
 elements that are in his love and mine, that they are
 
 186 SAEDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 quite distinct, quite unapproachable by any compari 
 son." And with all the loyalty of her soul aflame, she 
 determined to let nothing so much as cast a shadow over 
 so high and fine an union. 
 
 " So he has intimated that I am trying to take you 
 away from him ? " said Sybil reproachfully, looking at 
 her as if with still an unsatisfied doubt. 
 
 Lulu blushed, remembering his saying about the mag 
 nolia. To hide her confusion she left the room, flinging 
 her answer gayly back. " Oh, he was a little jealous 
 too." 
 
 Sybil grew dark as the cloud-rack that was driving up 
 the sky. As she pushed wider the blinds, and felt the 
 first cool drops beat on her up-turned forehead, her 
 stormy brow seemed to invoke the thunder which sud 
 denly rolled across the zenith with tremendous echoes. 
 Casting a long look down the dim hall through which 
 Lulu was passing, she shook with scornful laughter. 
 She tossed her arm lightly towards the retreating figure, 
 and then gazed at its luxurious display of round, soft 
 curves with a sensuous admiration. Tapping the wrist 
 lightly with her fingers and nodding her head towards 
 it gently and slowly, she murmured, "But her young 
 life throbs here."
 
 BY THE BLAZE 187 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A STUNNING ANNOUNCEMENT. 
 
 " Thoughts, that voluntary move 
 Harmonious numbers." 
 
 " On a sudden open fly 
 With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 
 Th infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
 Harsh thunder." 
 
 THE heavy shower settled into a steady rain when 
 evening came down, and as it happened that no engage 
 ment of any importance had been made by any of the 
 party, after dinner they all Avent into the great drawing- 
 room which, with a crackling wood fire and many wax can 
 dles, looked surprisingly inviting. As if it were winter, 
 and the "cosey feeling had fallen on the guests, all 
 gathered about the blaze; and that softly confidential 
 mood which seldom extends beyond two or three in a 
 group, crept over even the most reticent, and produced 
 a charming chatter from one to the other, filled with 
 playful banter and trifles of wit which sparkled like the 
 hickory. Snatches of conversation were caught up and 
 commented on with pleasant laughter, and never since 
 the first breath of the " home " atmosphere on their 
 arrival, had they all been so thoroughly careless and at 
 ease. 
 
 " The more I read, the more I wish to," Lulu was say 
 ing to Sardia. "What an insatiable appetite is this 
 craving for knowledge ! But I always congratulate my 
 self on the Eternities, for then we shall not be hampered
 
 188 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 by days, hours, and weeks. Then, the great angel of 
 the Apocalypse shall set one foot on sea and one on land 
 and declare that Time shall be no more. But I always 
 wondered how he was going to set his foot on the sea, 
 for St. John said, There shall be no more sea, you 
 remember." 
 
 Sarclia smilingly put by her incorrect reading and 
 answered, " If one were inclined, one might easily fancy 
 that the saint of Patmos was preaching a grand annihi 
 lation, so many majestic things he makes no more with 
 a sweep of his pen." 
 
 " And do you remember how he ends up his gospel ? " 
 put in Charlie Vane. " He said, And there are many 
 other things which Jesus did, the which if they should 
 be written every one, I suppose that even the world 
 itself could not contain the books that should be written. 
 That always seemed so delightfully naive, so innocent, 
 to me ! He did not know of the possibilities of nine 
 teenth-century publishers." 
 
 " I suppose the surface story of a whole life could be 
 condensed into a column look at our obituaries of 
 great men," Guy answered. "But the life of the soul 
 the inner being what volume could contain it ? " 
 
 "People have smiled over and again at the seeming 
 ignorance of that divine old writer," Helen remarked 
 thoughtfully, " but I have no doubt he referred to things 
 done in the spirit the actions of the soul of the blas 
 ter, which were boundless in conception and intent, com 
 passing the whole earth indeed and intimately connected 
 with its past, present, and future. And time may prove 
 that the world itself is a book, whereon shall be written 
 the eternal result of just those things that Jesus did, 
 to the exclusion of all lesser matter." 
 
 " The literature of materialism is doing its best to put 
 in a chapter and teach the efficacy of present and eternal
 
 KALFE S POEM 189 
 
 death. There is an annihilation for you which knocks 
 out old Father Time the first round," exclaimed Guy, 
 rather slangily. 
 
 " The revelations of Devout and Learned 
 Who rose before us and as prophets burned, 
 Are all but stories, which, awoke from sleep, 
 They told their fellows and to sleep returned. 
 
 Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, 
 
 Before we too into the dust descend; 
 
 Dust into dust and under dust to lie 
 
 Sans wine, sans song, sans singer, and sans end. 
 
 So Omar wrote seven hundred years ago, and who shall 
 say him nay ? " 
 
 Sybil s low, melodious voice melted into the silence 
 like a shadow into the moonlight, the cold, sad scepti 
 cism of the lines taking on a new poetry from her tones. 
 
 " I am not dust ! " cried Lulu, standing up and flashing 
 her youthful defiance against this dry philosophy. " I 
 will not have it so. Such a belief casts a pall over the 
 face of Hope." 
 
 Ralfe looked at her appreciatively, and spoke for the 
 first time. He said, 
 
 " This hath been found in rubric letters writ 
 By some old monk of piety and wit, 
 Who set upon his missal s well-thumbed page 
 These verselets, not unmeet a later age. 
 
 I am the golden corn, my body is the husk ; 
 I am the gleaming star, my body is the dusk. 
 
 I am the silvery pearl, my body is the shell ; 
 I am the water bright, my body is the well. 
 
 I am the emerald, my body sets it round ; 
 
 I am the love i the word, my body is the sound. 
 
 I am the sympathy, my body is the tear ; 
 
 I am the loving thought, my body makes it clear.
 
 190 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 I am the hearing, sight, my body ear and eye ; 
 I am the will to go, my body wings to fly. 
 
 I am the meaning sweet, my body is the rhyme ; 
 I am the tune i the bell, my body is the chime. 
 
 I am the subtle scent, my body is the flower ; 
 I am the maiden bride, my body is her dower. 
 
 I am the architect, my body is the stone ; 
 
 I am the crowned king, my body is his throne. 
 
 I am the lesson taught, my body doth but teach ; 
 I am the eloquence, my body is the speech. 
 
 I am the germ within, my body is the seed : 
 I am the deep intent, my body is the deed. 
 
 I am the charity, my body is the act ; 
 
 I am the wider truth, my body is the fact. 
 
 I am the chrysm of love, my body is the kiss ; 
 I am the finer grace, my body is the bliss. 
 
 I am the enemy, my body is the wrong, 
 
 I am the praise to God, my body is the song. 
 
 I am communion full, my body is the prayer ; 
 I am the living soul, my body I but wear. 
 
 Immortal, what need I my body to love much ? 
 When it lies dead, I see, I feel, I touch. 
 
 Eternal, then and now, to-morrow and for aye ! 
 I shall be I, unchanged, my body scattered clay. 
 
 Ah, wise old man, who centuries ago 
 From his soul s joy thus simply penned the truth ! 
 
 Long hath his dust been flower or stream or snow, 
 But he ! How glorious his perennial youth !" 
 
 Helen had listened with the rest, but oh, with what 
 an expression ! She had not heard but a few couplets 
 when she became convinced that they were his own. He
 
 THE MYSTIC UNION 191 
 
 caught her gaze as he finished and thrilled with an in 
 tellectual sympathy so fine that he was for a moment 
 deaf to the questionings, the guesses as to the author 
 ship, and finally the accusations and congratulations 
 which his evident embarrassment called forth. 
 
 " So that is what you have been doing all these morn 
 ings," cried Guy, giving him a glance of happy pride, 
 " flirting with the Muses ! The whole nine, I ll warrant. 
 Ladies, you might as well put up your prett} r arrows. 
 He has already been struck with a divine weapon. His 
 especial fancy in Muses will henceforth appear in public, 
 and when he rides Pegasus she will play ring-mistress. 
 Come, we will superintend your mental gymnastics 
 henceforth, now you have made your debut." 
 
 Ralfe stood the fire of their badinage with his usual 
 imperturbability, yet resorting to his defensive little catch 
 word, " I shall be charmed." But his whole being was 
 alive to the strange inspiration, the glow, the spiritual 
 harmony, which seemed to infold and uplift him as his 
 eyes again sought Helen s. Had they been alone, he 
 must have inevitably approached her, touched her, 
 drawn her to him, so strong, so irresistible was the 
 attraction of this silent comprehension. 
 
 It was as if flesh was forgotten of both, done with, 
 thrown off for the moment, and only their " I ain " re 
 mained, mingling in mystic and delicious union. 
 
 The wind which had been constantly on the increase 
 gave a sudden sigh about the house, and drove a gust of 
 drops against the broad panes, which startled Lulu, 
 whose timid fancies of late had grown almost pathetic. 
 She crept close to Guy, looking fearingly at the window 
 and trembled slightly, her cold fingers clasping his 
 wrist with a nervous pressure. For in the avenue were 
 two lights like giants eyes speeding up the darkness, 
 and soon three prancing ghosts of horses seemed to leap
 
 192 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 along the driveway and draw up with a plunge under 
 the porte-cochere. There was an imperious tap of the 
 gong, an opening of the great doors, a rush of cool air, 
 the musical tinkle of little silver bells, and as they all 
 involuntarily started up, the deep voice of the Princess 
 Menshikoff calling, 
 
 " Madame ! Monsieur, ah ! but it blows ! and the 
 ponies, what shall be done with them ? " 
 
 The rotund James who had let her in, and had in spite 
 of his rigid determination to be astonished at nothing, 
 nevertheless stood in mute bewilderment gazing at the 
 unwonted sight of three small, cream-colored horses, 
 harnessed abreast, Russian fashion, to a light phaeton 
 and held by two lackeys whose rubber coats streamed 
 with water, at last came to his senses and signalled to 
 the stable, whence soon appeared the head groom. 
 
 The Princess was glittering with drops which rolled 
 from her long cloak, and as the maid took it off, she 
 laughed with vivacious pleasure. 
 
 " "What a run r " she exclaimed. " I liked it ! A close 
 carriage ? Faugh ! Xo ! I drove myself of course. You 
 did not expect me ? I am glad. That makes me one of 
 you, not one of all the place ! Come, madame, I am 
 ready. You do not mind my dishabille? You see it 
 was sudden. I felt that this house was just at this 
 moment the best spot in the world, I felt your har 
 mony, so I rushed ! " 
 
 Her " dishabille " was a long trained garment of scar 
 let brocade, shot through with great arabesques of gold, 
 and flowing back from a skirt of black satin. The 
 sleeves, long and open to the shoulder, were lined with 
 black, and her arms were entirely covered with the 
 favorite mitts of red and gold, with a fringe of tassels 
 from elbow to wrist. On her head was a gauzy cap of 
 some embroidery of gold and scarlet with the favorite 
 fez-like tassel.
 
 "YOU TOO?" 193 
 
 So simple yet so completely apropos to her odd person 
 was her costume, that despite its rich beauty, one would 
 hardly remark it. Her personality dominated every 
 thing, even her eccentric environment. 
 
 As they all rose to greet her she suddenly frowned in 
 the midst of her greetings and murmured to Sybil as 
 she passed her, 
 
 " I did not feel you ! Strange ! I fancied all was 
 well," and she shrugged her shoulders with an impatient 
 movement instantly hidden by some laughing remark. 
 
 She was soon the centre of an interested group. To 
 Sardia, she had given the strong hand pressure of one 
 comrade to another, and she accepted the large chair he 
 wheeled forward with evident satisfaction. 
 
 " Your house has a chair big and strong enough for 
 me," she said to Ralfe. " Xot always I find one ! I 
 strew my path with wrecks of that sort ! " and she 
 pointed to a dainty, gilt-legged affair, which was occu 
 pied by Lulu. 
 
 As she sought the young girl s face she suddenly 
 showed a keen light in her eyes, a light that seemed 
 to pierce the very soul of Lulu, who looked back at her 
 as if fascinated. " You too ? " said the Princess under 
 her breath, and in a moment she was begging to see the 
 foreign photograph which had almost dropped from 
 her hand. 
 
 " Ah ! " she then exclaimed, looking at the picture 
 which she had taken, " This is singular ! What a coin 
 cidence ! It is the very town in which I was born ! " 
 
 " Madame is a native of Valdai then ? " 
 
 " Yes, the Valdai Hills were the glory of my child 
 hood. But I was a child. What could I know ? How 
 could I tell that they lifted themselves from a soil stained 
 with every persecution, every crime, to which liberty 
 was an unknown word and peace an unknown blessing !
 
 194 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Over the Valdai Hills rose a solemn sun which stung 
 our helpless sorrows." 
 
 " Then you do not love them still," Lulu said in pa 
 thetic surprise. To her, not to love the dear old home 
 where she was born, seemed nothing short of sacrilege. 
 
 "Kussia is a bitter draught to me," answered the 
 princess grimly. " She was a cruel mother to us all. 
 I had a gay, good brother once. He was keen of wit 
 and brave of soul. He saw persecution stare in at every 
 window of his village. He felt his free spirit chained, 
 and he spoke out. He has been long dead. I saw him 
 after he had worked in the Siberian mines for twelve 
 long years. He was still brave of soul. But not until 
 he proved it to me, his sister, did I know him. Head 
 a chapter of horrors from the history of the Inquisition. 
 Siberia is worse. Kussia has many debts to settle. 
 But I escaped her wicked clutches. I go to India. 
 India ! I love it. It is the country of my heart, my 
 soul. Born in Kussia of Russian parentage, my body 
 may be claimed as of that country ; but the land of my 
 desire, the home of my affections and ambitions, is grand 
 old India, ancient of days." 
 
 The sparkle, the enthusiasm, of her mood was catch 
 ing. Conversation was for a moment quite hushed. 
 The eloquence of her intense emotion was felt to 
 breathe itself from eye, lip, and hand. 
 
 " Signer Zante will accompany you when you go back, 
 I understand," remarked Kalfe as he joined the group. 
 " What an enthusiast he is. He tells me that he is now 
 allowing himself but four hours sleep, and eats nothing 
 but bread and milk. It is astonishing to see with what 
 joy he looks forward to being able to live upon bread 
 and water alone." 
 
 "Yes," answered the princess in a matter-of-course 
 way. " We must all go through the discipline."
 
 A TEST 195 
 
 "But tell me, what will this utter subjugation of the 
 body to the will produce ? " 
 
 " Nothing here in the direction he desires. The West 
 does not present the same conditions as the Orient. 
 There, the very atmosphere is impregnated with vital 
 forces unknown to the dwellers of this hemisphere. 
 What has been contemptuously termed Paganism was 
 and is ancient wisdom, replete with Deity, and he who 
 will, may become one with higher powers before he 
 casts off this mantle," touching her smooth white hand. 
 " Signer Zante aspires to being an adept, and if purity 
 of life, intensity of will, self-sacrifice of inclination, 
 patience and faith, can make him one, you will yet hear 
 that he stands amidst the ignorant, humbled and 
 wronged masses of India as another savior. But I had 
 forgotten to say that he will join us this evening, 
 although he is attending a reception at the present 
 moment." 
 
 She had risen, and Lulu with girlish confidence had 
 stolen her arm into her sleeve and moved along beside 
 her to a distant sofa. " But what is an adept ? " she 
 asked curiously, having listened with awe to this conver 
 sation. 
 
 " If you had told your lover that you have placed his 
 magnolia where the very miasma may blow on it ; if 
 you had shown him that the magnolia is already almost 
 visibly stained, would you not have found in him a dear 
 protection ? Is this the confidence of true affection ? " 
 She breathed these words so softly that none else could 
 hear. 
 
 Lulu turned pale to the very lips. "How could you 
 know ? Who told you ? What is this ? " she whispered 
 in terror. 
 
 "I have answered your question," said the princess 
 soothingly, " and I hope I have warned you at the same
 
 196 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 time. Such are the powers of the human spirit if one 
 knows how to use them. An adept knows," and she 
 turned away to Helen who was offering a glass of wine 
 with her own hand. " We were speaking of invisible 
 powers," she said lightly. "Those powers which by 
 most are seen as through a glass darkly ; but which 
 adepts in the art of self-control claim to see face to face ; 
 intuition, clairvoyance, for instance." 
 
 ."Of course it is positively useless for me to try to 
 understand the invisible in any practical way," said 
 Charlie Vane, who had followed Helen, and addressed the 
 princess. " But this peculiar preparation for things so 
 out of ordinary comprehension, as if it were the most 
 every-day fact, impresses me profoundly. Signor Zante 
 evidently believes that after a certain course of study 
 and self-discipline, his spirit will so dominate his body 
 that he will become almost as if unhampered by it, 
 and able to do those things which certainly seem super 
 natural." 
 
 "Nothing is supernatural, riot God himself," declared 
 inadame. 
 
 "It may be so. To follow out idea after idea in 
 sequence through the minds of opposite races or nations 
 has always been a singularly agreeable study to me. It 
 enlarges the range of one s opinion to find that the Eng 
 lish, French and German conception of the same idea 
 has a similar basis, but always deviates in detail. For 
 unless people can understand that a thing can be looked 
 at from all sides and present itself in different lights, 
 yet still remain the same, true charity is impossible. 
 We are all so apt to gauge things by the way they look 
 to MS / If we have been educated in one way we look in 
 one way, and we forget that some one else is looking 
 from exactly an opposite standpoint. How grand is the 
 knowledge that God can see from all points at once,
 
 HIDDEN WISDOM 197 
 
 precisely as it is. Therein lies His power of impar 
 tiality." 
 
 "I wish I might become an adept," said Lulu, sud 
 denly recovering her courage. "I too would like to 
 read minds and see things as they are," and she gave the 
 Princess Menshikoff the sweetest look of mingled sub 
 mission and gratitude. 
 
 " Ah ! keep your own sweet wits, that s enough. 
 There are queer things and people in this world of ours ! 
 I say ours meaningly, for, my dear, no other world is 
 ours yet, until we shed the vile body, so don t you live 
 so much in any other as to make you worry over or dis 
 dain this, as I have often been tempted to do to my own 
 discomfort ! " 
 
 "Is it possible?" murmured Helen, who looked at 
 the form before her with an incredulous expression. 
 For that form so seemed to be the embodiment of a 
 reserve strength, a calm, unbiassed will, resistless, self- 
 poised, eloquent of itself in every gesture, every look; 
 the soul, like a strong flame, seemed to so illuminate it 
 with hidden wisdom, the overshadowing of something 
 untranslatable so appeared to give its ungainly contour 
 a commanding grace, that to hear of the petty worries 
 and discomforts of the world from those lips, seemed 
 utterly incongruous. Her thought may have betrayed 
 itself in her eyes, for madame gently took her hand and 
 pressing it, said softly, 
 
 "No one is exempt from vexation, from suffering. 
 Exalt the spirit as one may, earth drags it back. But 
 all the joy we know is here. Let us cling to it, while 
 we grow above it." 
 
 "But how does this exaltation of the will, which 
 Signor Zante is trying to gain, set towards our submis 
 sion to God ? In so perfecting the action of the human 
 will, would not one forget the compliance of the prayer,
 
 198 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Thy will be done ? " earnestly asked Charlie Vane, still 
 pursuing the train of his thought. 
 
 The princess turned to him sympathetically, "I do 
 not think of God as a personality," said she, with a 
 smile, " although it is easier to speak of Him as such. 
 But certainly an adept could in no wise be in opposition 
 to Him. I have found it to be an absolutely practical 
 truth that, if we are willing, God can do a great deal 
 for us. But He is too honorable to rule our wills. He 
 gives us our freedom. We are not slaves, but children. 
 If we are not willing to let Him order our lives he does 
 not compel us to do so ; but if in faith and love we ask 
 Him to take charge of us, will and all, we begin to be in 
 instantaneous harmony with His designs, rather than in 
 direct opposition ; and thus we gain all the advantages 
 of His power, instead of kicking against the inevitable. 
 With God we have the backing and helping of every 
 force in nature, visible and invisible. In our own way 
 we may hit it right, as you Americans say, or we may 
 not ; and certainly if we do not, our puny powers must 
 inevitably be thwarted by the carrying on of that eter 
 nal process, which tends unchangeably towards the great 
 est good. 
 
 " As in an orchestra, those who tune their instruments 
 to the right key and follow the leader explicitly, make a 
 grand harmony of music, and find themselves on the 
 wave of beauty lifted to a perfect success ; so we may 
 enter into the general choir and be one with the power, 
 the grace, the victory of the Divine intention ; or we may 
 choose to flat the key, play according to our own ideas 
 of time, plan that a bar shall end there and a new pas 
 sage begin here, and find ourselves at last, hopelessly 
 out of the work, a discord to others, and a failure to 
 ourselves. An adept seeks continually to keep himself 
 closely within the limits of God s design, as then he
 
 JUSTICE SEEMS BLIND 199 
 
 attracts to himself all the ministering agents of the uni 
 verse, spiritual or material." 
 
 " Then he must inevitably be true, pure, and good ? " 
 
 " Or he will fail," said madame. 
 
 " One would think you were a Christian instead of a 
 Buddhist," said Guy, coining forward and laughingly 
 taking her empty glass. 
 
 " I am a Universalist," said she, but seeing their looks 
 of surprise, she added, " Am I wrong ? Do I not mean 
 what you mean ? My creed is short at any rate, it is 
 this : Let Love and Wisdom uplift the whole world for 
 ever unto Perfection. I care not who teaches that, or 
 what race claims the idea ; I know my soul responds to 
 it, and I mean to do my part." 
 
 At this moment Signor Zante entered, his usually pale 
 cheeks a little flushed with the wind and rain. He was 
 soon comfortably ensconced beside his hostess, for whom 
 he had instantly shown a preference. His venerable 
 locks of silver, under which the dark, kind eyes glowed 
 pleasantly, crowned his massive head with a wintry 
 beauty, as if age had brought her season in a loving 
 mood. 
 
 The conversation drifted on through ordinary common 
 places until some one made the quotation : 
 
 " Though the mills of God grind slowly 
 Yet they grind exceeding small," 
 
 and Signor Zante looked up to say, " That is doubtless 
 true, but sometimes Justice seems blind indeed. I 
 heard something to-day which interested me very much 
 as an instance of the varied vicissitudes of human des 
 tiny. Some years ago, I knew in a casual way, a young 
 man who was at the time one of the bloods of Paris. He 
 had a romantic history behind him of travel, adventure 
 and fast living, which, in a way, captivated the imagina-
 
 200 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 tion of his companions. He had the graces but not the 
 morals of a gentleman, and he managed to carry himself 
 into very good society, although he had no visible 
 means of support. The fact is that while he kept up 
 an appearance of considerable wealth, but few knew 
 his real position, which financially was most of the time 
 very precarious, and not many dreamed that he lived 
 by his wits in a very crooked way, which often put him 
 to various straits out of which he made most narrow 
 escapes. But certainly I found that he allied to an abso 
 lute lack of scrupulous feeling, an instinctive ambition, 
 and he concealed with diplomatic art, what perhaps were 
 not absolutely crimes, but certainly nothing of which to be 
 proud. I remember I often regretted that he existed, as I 
 knew only too well how dangerous he must be to others, 
 for withal, he had a singularly fascinating manner and 
 handsome face. 
 
 " He of course, passed entirely out of my memory until 
 I was reminded of him to-day by the unexpected mention 
 of his name and what has recently occurred to him. It 
 seems that but a short time ago he was actually reduced 
 to poverty in London, and also very ill, when a man 
 hired for the estate, and who is a professional detective, 
 discovered him and announced that he had long been 
 sought for as the heir to an immense property. My 
 friend briefly narrated the circumstances to me of what 
 I consider a decidedly romantic affair. 
 
 " It seems that this young man had, in his early youth, 
 committed some breach of honor which so affected his 
 family, that his parents actually left their Italian home 
 and hid their shame in a foreign land. Precocious, 
 headstrong, and proud, this son had left the home of his 
 birth, cursing the father and mother, whose unstained 
 name he had disgraced and whose pardon he rejected, 
 and as years went on and he never made himself known
 
 A RELATIVE 201 
 
 to them, they deemed him forever alien or dead. On 
 arriving in America they banished his name from their 
 lips, every token of his existence from their home, and 
 as it appeared, every vestige of remembrance of him 
 from their hearts, for no one here ever dreamed that 
 they had a son until their will was made known privately 
 to their lawyers. But in this, title, race, name, blood, 
 parental love conquered, and they gave him the larger 
 portion of their fortune, provided he appeared in person 
 to claim it in the course of five years." 
 
 He paused to whisk a spark from his coat, and some 
 one curiously asked, " And what was to become of it if 
 they did not find him ? " 
 
 " It was to go to the daughter, much younger than he. 
 One of the executors of the will is an old friend of mine 
 and happened to tell me the story. The limit of time is 
 nearly up. I believe the date is the twenty -third of this 
 month. Of course there is no doubt that the heir will 
 appear. He has been legally notified." 
 
 " No doubt at all," said Guy cynically. 
 
 "Well," pursued Signer Zante, "it seems that in re 
 nouncing them, this heartless young fellow really gave 
 up his parents forever, and leading the life of a reckless 
 roue, had no idea that across the sea was accumulating 
 for him a sum of money, which doubtless would have 
 attracted his keenest attention had he known of it. But 
 so it was, and I am informed that he seemed as if stunned 
 when he heard of it. What made it of especial interest 
 to me was that I presume he must be some distant 
 relative of yours, Miss Visonti, although if it prove so I 
 wish I might have given him a pleasanter record." 
 
 " A relative of mine ? " said Sybil in a languid way, 
 turning a proud glance on him, " I fancy that is not 
 probable. The Visonti family were few. My father, I 
 have always heard, was the last male descendant, and I
 
 202 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOYE 
 
 am the only representative of our race. What was the 
 person s name ? " 
 
 " It was Julian Savelli, or rather " 
 
 But Miss Visonti had half arisen from her seat and 
 was looking at him with a gaze in which wonder and 
 delight were blended. " Julian Savelli ! " she repeated, 
 with so subtle a mixture of emotions in her voice that 
 when she sank back in her chair, as she did almost 
 instantly, she seemed to have taken on a new sense of 
 power For her mind had caught like lightning the pos 
 sibilities in store for her. 
 
 " I meant to say," said he quietly, " that Julian Savelli 
 was the assumed name under which he had hidden his 
 identity. His real name was Visonti." 
 
 "Strange," murmured Sybil, abashed at this disclo 
 sure, which assured her that he must indeed be some 
 relative of whom she had never dreamed. " I suppose 
 there must have been another branch of our house. And 
 his parents came to America ? It is incredible ! We 
 must have heard of them. Pray what and who were 
 these Visontis ? " 
 
 While speaking these words, a dim intuition began to 
 grow into a vague reality in her mind. It seemed as if a 
 cold hand was slyly and softly being clutched about her 
 throat. The firelight grew nothing but a dim glow, and 
 the silence between her own slow words seemed to throb 
 in her ears with a dull hot thrill. 
 
 " I anticipated that you would ask me that question, 
 my dear young lady, and so I made sure of answering 
 it," replied Signor Zante, and smiling at his own sagacity, 
 he drew a note-book from his pocket and leisurely 
 began to look through its leaves. 
 
 To Sybil the suspense of every second seemed a crisis, 
 and the answer which the old gentleman finally read with 
 considerable decision seemed to beat like separate strokes 
 upon her brain.
 
 MY BROTHER! 203 
 
 " Their names were Juliet and Baptiste." 
 
 Sybil sprang from her chair and looked wildly and 
 piteously around. 
 
 Death seemed to wring her heart. " My father and 
 mother ! " she gasped, clasping her hands towards him 
 as if for mercy. "Then Julian Savelli, Visonti is 
 my " 
 
 "Yes. If they were your parents, I suppose they 
 were also his. I fear I did not dream oh, forgive 
 me ! How could I know that he was your brother ? " 
 
 She leaned against Helen, who had quickly gained her 
 side, and now with warmest compassion and sympathy, 
 supported her with a strong, tender arm. 
 
 " Do not be so shaken, dear," she said gently. " Be 
 brave. Surely this may be a blessing in disguise. He 
 may have been wild for the very lack of a sister s influ 
 ence, a home and parental love. No Visonti can go very 
 wrong. A noble work is given you in this discovery." 
 
 But Sybil looked from earth to heaven, from heaven 
 to hell, in the depths of her soul and found no comfort. 
 Clanging through her brain like harsh bells crashing out 
 an alarm, rang the terrible words over and over again : 
 
 " He was my brother, my brother, and he knew ! "
 
 204 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT. 
 
 "She moved 
 Like Proserpine in Enna, gathering flowers." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 " The palpable obscure." 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 HELEN was walking in her garden. It was a morning 
 full of the glow of early autumn. Every blossom, every 
 shrub, the velvet grass, sparkled with drops of dew. At 
 intervals, stretched like fairy canopies from twig to twig ? 
 were gauzy cobwebs studded with opals and pearls, while 
 underneath some broad green leaf hid the cricket, who 
 crustily gave good-morrow to the rasping grasshopper. 
 Nature was full of busy sounds. Overhead birds twit 
 tered and called, while in a soft, muffled rumble, the 
 sea beat its giant drums along the shore. A mist had 
 enveloped the dawn as with a veil, loath to yield up 
 its beauty to the sun, but now day stood blushing and 
 radiant in the light of his smile. 
 
 And Helen walked in her garden ! 
 
 Petrarch, in those old days when his soul was ever 
 pierced with tender woe, wrote of his lovely Laura, 
 
 " As o er the fresh grass her fair form is sweet, 
 And graceful passage makes at morning hours, 
 Seems as around the newly awakened flowers 
 Found virtue issue from her delicate feet."
 
 A PURE ATMOSPHERE 205 
 
 And when Helen gently moved from rose bloom to 
 rose bloom, culling a bouquet of velvet blossoms, her 
 beauty seemed to give the lawn a newer loveliness, and 
 leave behind her as she went, a brighter charm. 
 
 There are some natures so clear, so pure, so crystalline, 
 that one may only liken them to a mountain brook, a 
 stream full of joyous vitality, cool, sweet and health- 
 giving to all who touch it. 
 
 Such was the soul of Helen, and her fair body with 
 its chaste outlines, her skin white and spotless, her 
 deep, deep eyes filled with the light of noble thought, 
 made an atmosphere about her which was curative to 
 others, physically and morally. In her presence only 
 good ideas seemed to arise in the mind. Anything low 
 shrank back aghast. Only the most evil nature could 
 pursue its ends unchecked when in contact with her 
 genuine and generous spirit. Unconsciously she laid 
 her hand of healing even on the vilest, and uplifted 
 such, at least for a moment, into a better sphere. 
 
 Now, for the first time quite alone in the great plateau 
 surrounding the house, her guests having all gone out 
 to enjoy an especial entertainment given on board a 
 Russian man-of-war, she from preference had remained 
 at home to enjoy a day of rare solitude, in the midst 
 of so gay a season. She breathed in, with unusual 
 vivacity the fresh breeze, and lingered beside the hedge 
 rows, plucking a dead leaf here or straightening a 
 crooked vine, forgetful of all save the singular delight 
 of being once more alone. 
 
 Slowly approaching the great gates that opened on 
 the avenue, she was surprised to see a woman come 
 through them, and run rapidly towards her, holding by 
 the hand a little child who was almost lifted off the 
 ground by the speed with which they came. She ran 
 straight to Helen, and panting with fatigue and evident
 
 206 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 fright gave a cautious glance behind her and exclaimed 
 in French, 
 
 " Oh, madame ! Is this right ? Is this where Madame 
 Visonti is staying ? " 
 
 "Madame Visonti ? " exclaimed Helen, "why ! Madame 
 Visonti is dead. She did not live here. She died in 
 New York." 
 
 The woman lost every particle of color and sank to 
 the ground. 
 
 " Madame Visonti dead ? Oh, my God, what shall 
 I do ? Oh, madame, at least }*ou knew her. Save me, 
 I beg. Hide me ! I am pursued. I have been pursued 
 by a man who is bound to steal this child. Will you 
 not hide me in your house a little while ? " 
 
 She almost knelt as she clasped her hands and im 
 plored with her streaming eyes. Helen was struck by 
 her evident despair. Her French was provincial, yet 
 touched with an accent of refinement. The child was 
 seemingly weary and miserable. She instantly said, 
 "Follow me," and walked rapidly to the house. For 
 some reason undefined to herself, she led the way to her 
 own apartments, and giving the woman a seat, stood 
 patiently waiting until she could recover her breath 
 and senses. 
 
 "You knew madame Visonti?" she then queried. 
 
 " Ah, yes, madame ! I dreamed not that she was 
 dead. Alas ! when, when did she die ? " 
 
 " Why, she died four or five years ago, my good 
 woman," said Helen. 
 
 The creature started up with joy and cried rapturously, 
 " Then she is alive, she is alive ! for I heard from her 
 only a few weeks ago, I saw her only a few months 
 back. I was directed here to see her. She told me if 
 I were ever absolutely obliged to telegraph her, I must 
 send it in care of Madame Fielding."
 
 THE PURSUIT 207 
 
 " You mean Miss Visonti," said Helen. " I supposed 
 you meant her mother, the old lady." 
 
 " She is not an old lady," said the woman staring ; 
 " she is young, beautiful, dark as night, and wonderful 
 in style, a Parisian, madame, Sybil Visonti." 
 
 Helen was perplexed and annoyed. She spoke 
 sharply. 
 
 " Then why do you call her madame ? I tell you she 
 is unmarried and a Miss, not a Mrs." 
 
 As if to convince without another word, with an 
 expressive gesture the woman thrust the little boy 
 forward, and pulling off his velvet cap said decidedly, 
 " This is her child." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " This is her child," said the Frenchwoman doggedly, 
 " and it is to her that I have brought him. Although he 
 bears my name, I know his true one, and as I was com 
 pelled to use it, have done so." 
 
 Helen felt faint. She poured out a little glass of 
 wine and drank it, then, reminded of her guest, gave 
 her some also, courteously begging pardon. For a few 
 moments. not a word was uttered. Helen felt incapable 
 of putting her thoughts into language. At last however 
 she questioned, 
 
 " Who is pursuing you ? " 
 
 " I do not know, madame. Since Madame Visonti 
 sent the last money to me, a man came to our village 
 and began to ask my neighbors about me and the child. 
 He then called on me and tried to induce me to sell my 
 darling to him. I finally became so afraid of him that 
 my little boy never went out of the house save with me. 
 One day I left him for not more than ten minutes, and 
 when I came in I found the stranger about to take him 
 from the crib. I called for help, and the fellow walked 
 off; but then I dared not stay any longer. I had
 
 208 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 pledged my life to take good care of the child. I ran 
 away. I went to Paris, I went to Liverpool, I came 
 to America, I am here. He, also, he too came. He soon 
 traced and followed me. He was on the same steamer, 
 he haunted me in. New York, he took the same train, 
 he too is here ! I am afraid he is at the very door. 
 Ah, what I suffer ! " 
 
 It was French, it was dramatic, almost tragic, but 
 it was genuine excitement, it was real. 
 
 "Tell me about yourself," said Helen calming her. 
 "Tell me all about Madame Visonti. How do you 
 know this is her child ? " 
 
 " I was her nurse," said the woman simply ; " I was 
 with the little darling when he was born," taking him 
 on her lap and soothing his cries which had now become 
 rather alarming. "Yes, pet, nursey will find him his 
 breakfast. We have not breakfasted," she said humbly 
 to Helen. " We went from the train to a hotel, and I 
 was sure I saw not the man who pursued, but the 
 moment we were about to go to a room we heard the 
 dreadful voice in the lower hall. I caught the child 
 and ran down a back passage and so on, on, until I 
 reached you." 
 
 "You shall have breakfast immediately. But how 
 do you come to have Madame Visonti s child ? " 
 
 " Why, madame, she left him with me in the country 
 in my little home to stay until he could go to school. 
 I was his nurse, I was faithful, I was a widow ; I had 
 lost a little one, and I was poor." 
 
 " Ah, I see. She was a great lady in society and did 
 not wish the care of her baby, so she left him with you, 
 for the country air and milk. Many French ladies do 
 that, I fancy. We seldom do so here. Is she a kind 
 mistress ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, madame, she is generous, liberal, too liberal
 
 MONSIEUR VISONTI 209 
 
 to me, and she lavishes riches on the little one s cloth 
 ing, ah, the neighbors smile when he is called Dantin! 
 But I had enough to make this sudden journey and even 
 more." 
 
 Helen had a sense of being in a fantastic dream. 
 Was this woman honestly stupid or excessively cunning, 
 or was there really nothing to conceal ? A feeling of 
 strangeness with all earthly things stole over her brain 
 as she looked at these two beings so strangely appealing 
 to her sympathy. 
 
 " Where is Monsieur Visonti ? " she asked abruptly. 
 
 " I don t know," replied the woman mysteriously. 
 " I never saw him. He is never mentioned, and I am 
 never to say the word Papa in the boy s presence " 
 whispering. "But I believe he was a wicked, cruel 
 man, and that is why Madame Visonti conceals her 
 name. I believe he lives, and I have thought it might 
 be he who follows. But may I not see my mistress ? 
 Cannot I present her with her child ? Every moment 
 is agony to me while I still keep him. What if that 
 man is in the house now ? Take me to her, I beg, I 
 must see her !" and again she looked about with evident 
 dread. Helen took her into an inner room and showed 
 her that it had no outlet save into her own chamber. 
 
 " Have no fear. No stranger can enter here. Madame 
 Visonti is away for several hours, but she will be at 
 home before night. You shall see her immediately 
 she returns. The child will be perfectly safe here with 
 you, and we will keep him in this little room, locked in. 
 But no, perhaps it will be best to serve your breakfast 
 in my sitting-room, and I will take care of him myself. 
 You will both be more comfortable. Say nothing to 
 the maid who serves you. When you have finished, 
 come back here to us." She rang the bell, and the 
 woman now almost fell on her knees again for gratitude.
 
 210 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 The little boy had watched Helen with childish ad 
 miration, murmuring to himself in his baby French, and 
 now when she took him on her lap, smoothed his curls 
 and spoke gently to him in the same language, he 
 chattered like a little magpie, and calling for his break 
 fast in an imperial manner, ordered his weary nurse 
 to bring his milk. 
 
 The maid appeared, but not until Helen had taken 
 the child into her dressing-room and left him to amuse 
 himself with a pretty toy. 
 
 Giving her orders, she soon stood alone, looking in 
 a dazed way out on to the lawn, where half an hour 
 before she had been so happy. There was the same gay 
 sunlight, the same freshness of the morning. 
 
 "But the trail of the serpent is over them all," she 
 murmured. " Sybil disgraced ! " she kept thinking over 
 and over. "Sybil capable of concealing such a secret 
 as this ? Living the frivolous life of a woman of fash 
 ion, with this child in the background, its father unac 
 knowledged, its very name a lie. Sybil passing for a 
 maiden, when she must be either a married or unmarried 
 mother ! What a ghastly thing in one way or another 
 her past must be ! And yet with what cool bravado she 
 comes here to mingle with our pleasures as of old ! Oh, 
 it must be that she has contracted a secret marriage. 
 Duped by some villain, and discovering her mistake, she 
 has fled from his cruelties, hidden her child, and saved 
 herself by but she keeps her maiden name ! There is 
 no concealment in that ! I am confused. What can I 
 think ? This woman seems to believe every thing is 
 correct. She speaks freely, as if she had received no 
 lessons, what can I believe ? What can any one think 
 of this ? " 
 
 She was not allowed to think. An imperious little 
 hand rattled the knob of the dressing-room door, and as
 
 A BEAUTIFUL CHILD 211 
 
 it did not yield, as lordly a little foot hit it a smart 
 kick. Then a scream, " It pricks, it pricks, the horrid 
 rose ! " and opening the door she found the baby boy 
 stamping angrily upon the cluster of roses, which she 
 had gathered, and holding out a tiny thumb, on which a 
 little bead of blood stood out. She caught him up and 
 comforted him, in spite of her half -aversion, for she loved 
 children, and he was beautiful. 
 
 Beautiful ! He was a dream of beauty. His head 
 was a mass of tangled curls, golden as the sun ; his eyes 
 and brows were dark, glorious eyes, flashing and gloom 
 ing, oh, so much like Sybil s. His features and form, 
 strong, healthy, and remarkably developed for three years, 
 his scarlet lips so curved and pouting, he might have 
 made a delicious model for a Cupid, and already bewitch 
 ing in his baby wrath, his sudden smile full of angelic 
 sweetness captivated her heart. 
 
 " Whoever you are, I shall surely love you," she mur 
 mured, and was glad to think again, " Whoever you are, 
 you are a child, an innocent little child."
 
 212 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 AN ACCOMPLISHED ACTRESS. 
 
 " But all was false and hollow; though the tongue 
 Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear 
 The better reason, to perplex, and dash 
 Maturest counsels." 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 THE day seemed to pass very slowly. The woman and 
 her charge were quietly waiting in the little dressing- 
 room, which Helen had taken the precaution to lock. 
 No one had seen them that she could discover, and in 
 view of future possibilities she believed it wiser that 
 they should remain concealed. How the hours dragged. 
 The house seemed so still, so ominously still. The in 
 tense heat of the summer noon, tempered by only the 
 lightest breath from the sea, was full of weariness to her, 
 yet she could not sleep, and vainly tried to read or write. 
 
 This strange presence in her home, of so doubtful a 
 mystery, seemed to cast a shadow wherever she moved. 
 She wished to attain justness and clearness of thought, 
 but sire was baffled by her own determination. Her 
 mind seemed full to running over with past, present and 
 future. It seemed impossible to grasp the dominant 
 meaning of all the incidents connected with Sybil. 
 
 This indecision was the outgrowth of a fine trait. 
 She was invariably slow to believe evil. She was also 
 invariably quick to forgive, and with her, forgiveness 
 was no half-hearted work. Ifc was positive, unlimited, 
 unfeigned. She forgave, and she forgot. That was the
 
 NO HONOR! 213 
 
 end of it. And now, brought face to face with a new 
 and terrible deception, in spite of herself all past decep 
 tions ranged themselves before her memory and against 
 her will, thrust themselves prominently into view. 
 Every trifling vanity, every little trick, every " white lie," 
 and every black one ; the sly and ingenious excuses, the 
 selfish acceptance of undue favors, the bold requests, 
 the flattering hypocrisy, the painful lack of honor ! 
 honor ! that was the word ! No honor, in great things 
 or small. No honor in speech or act, always self, self 
 at the end of all doing, at the bottom of all planning, 
 at the top of all being ! 
 
 Helen felt sick to the very soul. " Oh, how hard it is 
 to be honest with one s self, to be true to others," she 
 murmured. For in her heart was welling up a mighty 
 disgust for this woman, whom she had fondly and truly 
 loved. Even the episode of the ring had not made so 
 deep an impression on her mind as to obliterate this af 
 fection. Like Ralfe, she had thought, " Sybil could 
 never have intended to let the stones remain changed. 
 She had a very sudden and pressing need for money, no 
 doubt ; and either was too proud to ask it, or was held 
 in the bondage of some secret." Now it became plain 
 to Helen what that secret was. By the light of this 
 event she understood the other. " It was for her child," 
 she thought. " Poor mother ! it was for her child." And 
 in connection with that ring remained the sweet, the un 
 speakably sweet remembrance of "Ralfe s gratitude, which 
 inevitably counteracted at the time, and even now, any 
 contempt or bitterness she may have felt. 
 
 But here was a culmination of unfriendship. Whether 
 married or unmarried, the assumption of her old posi 
 tion in society, the coming audaciously to her friend s 
 arms with all the apparent innocence of past years, the 
 entering into every gayety, the light flirtations, follies,
 
 214 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 and indiscretions which had marked her whole stay, 
 seemed so utterly devoid of true womanliness, so bereft 
 of the ordinary modesties of a pure heart, that Helen 
 grew gravely and thoughtfully cold and resolved, as the 
 hours went on. The more she considered, the more she 
 could not believe Sybil to be a married woman. Yet she 
 compelled herself to reserve her judgment. "I must 
 not presuppose anything. If I were in the same posi 
 tion, I should require absolute faith from a friend until 
 the friend knew the truth. But how shall I get at the 
 truth ? She lies so easily ! " and Helen blushed. It 
 seemed so low to her, so cowardly, to lie. 
 
 Strange to say, she did not once think of Ralfe in this 
 connection. She did not analyze the effect upon him of 
 this sudden relationship. The fact of his existence 
 seemed to have gone from her. The first thought of 
 most women under the circumstances would have been 
 one of exultation, for in any case, such a revelation 
 would effect a great change in the feelings of any man. 
 But Helen was too direct. As yet, this secret was not 
 hers, and it might so turn out that it would never be 
 made known to any but herself. She simply studied 
 the bare facts of the case. What might come of them 
 she left to the future. Her mind was eminently judicial. 
 But she was nervous, excited and almost irritable. She 
 longed to have it over. 
 
 At last the welcome wheels came rolling up the avenue. 
 Gay voices and low laughter came stealing to her win 
 dow. Light feet ran up-stairs, doors were opened and 
 shut, she heard her name spoken in pleasant accents. 
 But a sudden lethargy seemed to have stolen over her 
 limbs, she felt as if carved of stone. She tried to deter 
 mine whether she should go to Sybil, or if Sybil would 
 come to her before dressing for dinner, as she nearly 
 always did. She sat with a face gray with suspense, 
 waiting and waiting.
 
 THE LIE 215 
 
 Sybil came. She knocked lightly, called out, " Helen 
 darling, are you awake ? " softly opened the door, and 
 seeing her sitting there, rushed in with her deep, melo 
 dious laugh, and cried, " Dressed already ? Oh, why 
 didn t you come with us ? It was the best affair of 
 the season. You have no idea," and she had almost 
 clasped her friend in her arms in the usual passionate 
 embrace, when Helen rose with a countenance so cold 
 and stern, so white and sad, that she was astonished, and 
 sprang back, stammering, "What what has happened? 
 What is the matter ? " 
 
 Helen s voice was very calm and still. She spoke as 
 one who mechanically repeats a lesson. " Sybil, I am told 
 that in France you are called madaine." 
 
 Sybil grew equally white. " Who tells you so ? " 
 she finally uttered. 
 
 "I am told," went on Helen in a measured way, "that 
 you are not only called madame, but that you are called 
 mother. That you are a mother." 
 
 Sybil had a little recovered herself. " Who tells you 
 so ? " she demanded this time angrily. 
 
 " I am told," continued Helen as if no interruption 
 had occurred, "that your child lives, that you provide 
 for it, and that the father is never known, never seen, 
 never mentioned. Is this true ? " 
 
 Sybil s eyes blazed with fury and her cheeks were like 
 a flame. "Xo ! " she cried. "It is a lie, a base, horrible 
 lie, and you should know it. How dare you question 
 me thus, you who have been my friend for so many 
 years ! How dare you take advantage of my absence to 
 see the Princess Menshikoff, and listen to her false, 
 malicious tongue ? This is your purity. This is your 
 loyalty. Even you gossip when you have a chance. Do 
 you not know a friend Avould have cast the lie back in 
 her teeth ? "
 
 216 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " The Princess Menshikoff ! " murmured Helen abashed. 
 " Does she know anything about it ? " 
 
 Sybil turned like a snake. She knew in an instant 
 that she had made some fatal mistake. How had she 
 betrayed herself ? " My vile temper ! " she thought. 
 But she braved it out, and said sullenly, " About what ? 
 She knows she hates me, and I know it too. Hates me 
 enough to murder me." 
 
 "It is singular," said Helen in the same strained 
 voice, " that you have always declared that she was an 
 utter stranger to you until you met her here. But I did 
 not hear this from the Princess Menshikoff or from 
 any one whom you have met at this place. You have 
 had two callers to-day who informed me." 
 
 " They lied, and they knew they lied when they said 
 it. I do not care who they were or what. They either 
 maliciously lied or were entirely misinformed. Who 
 were they ? I demand to know." 
 
 "Then," said Helen suddenly changing her manner, 
 and coming towards Sybil she gently took her hands and 
 looked with her truthful eyes straight into those beau 
 tiful, wicked orbs, " then you are not a wife ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " And you are not a mother ? " 
 
 "No! so help me Heaven. Helen, let me go. You 
 act as if you were crazy." 
 
 Helen stepped to the door and locked it. Then she 
 opened the dressing-room door, and the woman, who had 
 been impatiently awaiting her summons, rushed out and 
 threw herself at Sybil s feet. 
 
 " Oh, madame, madame ! " she cried, " I have brought 
 him safe and sound. I have found you, and I give him 
 to you safe and happy." 
 
 For one instant Sybil wavered, then her stupendous 
 will forced her to be calm. She haughtily drew herself
 
 THE MOTHER 217 
 
 up, and looking scornfully at Helen, said, "What kind 
 of dramatics are these ? Are you rehearsing for a play ? 
 Who is this woman ? What is she doing here ? " 
 
 The woman clung to her dress. * I am Dantin, Dan- 
 tin !" she exclaimed in French. "Do you not know 
 me, dear Madame Sybil ? I could not let you know. 1 
 was pursued. A man tried to steal the child. I ran 
 away. Oh, God ! I have suffered such fear." 
 
 "What child?" asked Sybil still haughtily, and 
 drawing herself away. "Woman, I do not know you, 
 and never heard of you or your child. What an impos 
 tor you are ! What do you want here ? " 
 
 " Heaven ! " said Dantin, and with a spring she 
 passed into the dressing-room. She caught from the 
 lounge the beautiful boy, who, sound asleep, was rosy 
 and lovely as a flower. " Do you not know him ? " she 
 asked triumphantly, placing him in his mother s arms, 
 who instinctly held them out lest he should fall to the 
 floor. 
 
 Sybil looked down on him an instant, and met his 
 now open eyes, his eyes, so like her own. Mother and 
 child gazed at each other as in a trance. 
 
 " Oh, my God ! " she breathed, sinking down on her 
 knees, " have mercy upon me." 
 
 The sight was touching. Helen s eyes swam with 
 tears. She bade the woman go back into the other 
 room, and having shut the door, said softly, "Rise, 
 Sybil. You are a mother. And now trust my love 
 fully. Surely you know its kindness. Tell me truly, 
 are you also a wife ? " 
 
 Sybil closed her eyes. The baby hands played with 
 her ear-jewel. In a moment he cooed softly, "Pretty 
 lady, pretty lady ! I love oo, pretty lady." 
 
 Sybil covered his head with passionate kisses, and 
 looked at him with an impulse of unutterable pride and
 
 218 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 joy. "My beautiful boy, my noble boy," she murmured 
 with all a mother s happiness in her handsome, healthy 
 child. 
 
 Helen watched her with a keen sensation of sympathy 
 and compassion. Surely the heart could not be all bad, 
 the soul all false, which could so fondly express maternal 
 emotion. 
 
 Sybil suddenly shook herself, and set the boy on his 
 feet, and rising, took him slowly to the dressing-room, 
 and gave him to the nurse. " Take him," she said, 
 unheeding the painful bewilderment of the woman, and 
 sharply closing the door. She then turned to Helen. 
 Her face wore an expression of cool audacity. " Since 
 circumstances have betrayed my secret into your hands, 
 I suppose there is no longer use in denial. I expect 
 no mercy from you. You are a woman, and no woman 
 yet had mercy on another whose destiny had brought 
 her to my pass. You ask me if I am a wife ? I told 
 you no, and I tell you no again. But if I had been a 
 wife you would not have been one. Shall I tell you 
 more, or is your curiosity satisfied ? " 
 
 Helen could have struck her to the ground. She 
 towered above her in terrible anger. " Madame," she 
 said, " mercy is due to the repentant, not to the defiant. 
 My heart is open to the appeal of sorrow, but I am 
 human enough to resent insolence. I understand but 
 one thing. You came into my house as a virtuous and 
 single woman. You are a mother and are called 
 madarne. Yet you say you are not married. You do 
 not say it humbly and with shame. You do not confess 
 your sin with agony and tears. You seem conscience 
 less, for you utter it as with some lurking threat to me, 
 your friend and hostess. Now, madame, you will 
 explain fully, or the disgrace you seem to merit will 
 fall upon you. What is the name of that child ? "
 
 "YOUR HUSBAND" 219 
 
 Sybil put on a sardonic smile, a smile which meant 
 the subtle triumph of a long hatred. It was a look 
 which seemed to thrust and stab its way into Helen s 
 soul. She felt as if a death-blow was coming. It 
 warned her beforehand. 
 
 " Ralfe," said Sybil. 
 
 As a great ship at sea trembles and reels for a moment 
 when struck by a tremendous storm wave, but then gal 
 lantly rights itself and unerringly pursues its course, so 
 Helen shuddered for an instant at the sound of this 
 beloved name. But her natural strength, her healthful 
 mind and body, carried her on with continued courage. 
 
 " Who is the father of your son ? " 
 
 " Your husband." 
 
 Helen was too incensed for words. Her indignation 
 shook her from head to foot. She gazed upon Sybil 
 with a face like some great Greek goddess, full of un 
 utterable scorn. Before her just wrath Sybil shrank. 
 Her eyes sought the floor, she bowed her head. She 
 sobbed. She caught the hem of Helen s dress and clung 
 to it in seeming anguish. 
 
 " Pity me, Helen, my friend, my darling childhood s 
 friend," she murmured. " It is too true. It is true, but 
 I never dreamed you loved him so ! It was before you 
 knew him, only think. It was more than three years ago. 
 He wronged me, he injured me. He swore he loved me, 
 and he made me believe it. I was young, ardent, and I 
 loved him with my whole soul. Oh, Helen, do not be too 
 hard upon me ! Think if he had flattered you, if he had 
 breathed vows of tenderest love to you, if his kisses had 
 melted on your lips, and his eyes full of passionate 
 devotion had pleaded with your own ! Would not you 
 have yielded? Could you have resisted even you, 
 chaste and cold and calm as your Northern blood must 
 make you ? Then think of me, a child of the South,
 
 220 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 with every pulse on fire, with every fibre of body aflame ! 
 Have mercy, Helen, have consideration ! " 
 
 These words, which fell on her heart like drops of 
 molten lava, each with its own keen pain, did not affect 
 Helen s mind. Her imagination was stung into unspeak 
 able bitterness ; but her reason remained steadfast. 
 She answered sternly, 
 
 Sybil, you are an accomplished actress, but you are 
 dealing with a clear eye and an honest soul. Beware 
 how far you carry these inventions. You know that 
 there is not one word of truth in what you have just 
 said. The man you accuse is incapable of the least dis 
 honorable action, much less the shameless crime which 
 you attribute to him. Choose a less noble being to 
 assail ! You can never prove a single statement." 
 
 " Can I not ! " almost screamed Sybil, rising and pull 
 ing at something in the bosom of her dress. "Can I 
 not, madame ! Well, what is this but proof, absolute 
 proof ? " and she drew out a letter and placed it firmly 
 in Helen s hand. It was addressed to Sybil in the un 
 mistakable handwriting of Ealfe Fielding.
 
 THE PEOOF 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 PROBATION. 
 
 " Abashed the devil stood, 
 And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
 Virtue in her shape how lovely." 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 A STRANGE haze seemed to gather before Helen s eyes 
 as she held the letter open before her. She tried in vain 
 to see the words. They swam together and were lost in 
 a blot and blur. But she knew her enemy wa watching 
 her with malicious pleasure, and with a mighty effort 
 she controlled herself, and slowly read, 
 
 PARIS, March 16, 1882. 
 
 MY DARLING SYBIL, You know I have long loved you with 
 all the ardor of my soul. Even at our first meeting you must have 
 seen with what power and passion love awakened within me. Has 
 not every act of mine since, proved a constant homage and devo 
 tion? Even my acts of folly, my impulse, my rashness, but assure 
 you of a passion which nothing checks, nothing lessens. Your 
 caprice, your coldness, and again your maddening kindness, have 
 diivenme almost to desperation. Why hold yourself aloof from 
 me now, when once we were so near! Again I beg you to be my 
 wife. Throw aside these foolish scruples. Have no fear that any 
 thing you have ever done, or ever may do, can alter the affection 
 which seems to be a very part of my being. Am I faultless? Am I 
 blameless? Have not I too sinned? Ah! who has not? Be one 
 with me. Are we not one already? What remains but that little 
 ceremony which will make me blessed beyond expression! You 
 love me as I love you. I have read it in your eyes, felt it burn in 
 your touch. I have been ravished with the perfume of love in 
 your hair, gone mad from the pressure of your lip. Do not tear
 
 222 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 me from myself! You are in me and of me, one and indivisible. 
 The very blood in our veins leaps in rhythm, for I have felt it throb 
 bing in your pretty wrist. Be mine, be mine! Let nothing influ 
 ence you to deny me. The past is past. Let it sink into oblivion. 
 Once my wife, our past is one, as will be our future. I will never 
 reproach you, you shall always trust me. Tims shall the secret be 
 doubly guarded. I will protect you from every evil. I will sur 
 round you with every comfort. The million I neither need nor 
 want it! How small a sacrifice for so supreme a reward. I am 
 able to earn with ease sufficient for us both. Darling, you shall 
 never lack your accustomed luxuries. Give me your faith. Unite 
 our destinies and make Heaven a visible truth. Oh, answer me 
 quickly! 
 
 RALFE. 
 
 The torture of these lines to Helen was so terrible 
 that her being itself seemed to faint and die away. She 
 stood motionless, holding the paper, while thoughts like 
 great pangs of physical pain shot through her brain. 
 
 "This, then, is how he can love. So no doubt he 
 loves her still. And he is tied to me. Bound in a hor 
 rible thraldom which he loathes and hates, while this 
 woman tears his heart with her cruel presence. What 
 suffering his true soul must endure. What temptation 
 is constantly before him. Oh, I pity him, I love him, I 
 pity him ! And I would give my life to have received 
 such a letter ! If she now be miserable unto death, she 
 once was supremely blessed while I I " 
 
 She sank into a chair and closed her eyes. 
 
 A solemn silence fell upon the room. The setting sun 
 cast a mellow light across one corner of the now half- 
 dark apartment, and touched her pale beauty with a 
 melancholy glow. Sybil did not move. She simply 
 waited. Finally, Helen turned to her and said in a cold, 
 penetrating voice, 
 
 " You received such a proposal from the father of your 
 child the proposal to make you an honorable wife and 
 mother and you did not avail yourself of it! You
 
 A SLIP OF THE TONGUE 223 
 
 permitted him to break his heart and marry me ; to 
 leave you still dishonored and disgraced, when you had 
 but to say one word to be this good man s wife ? Why, 
 your tricks are laughable. You are not even clever. 
 You should have kept this communication to yourself. 
 Do you think to make me believe you after this ? This 
 letter is no proof of anything save the generosity and 
 manly faith of Kalfe Fielding in the woman he adores. 
 It states nothing positively. It only alludes to secrets 
 and scruples. I will show him this letter," quietly put 
 ting it in her pocket. " He shall identify his writing 
 and explain its meaning." 
 
 Then, indeed, was Sybil baffled. She looked as if she 
 could spring upon Helen and tear her limb from limb. 
 But in a second she was the tearful hypocrite again, 
 fawning at her feet. 
 
 " Would you be so cruel to me as that ? I could not 
 marry him, I dared not tell him. Can you have the 
 heart to disgrace me forever in his eyes ? His happi 
 ness too you will ruin it forever ! He knows nothing 
 of this child ! I have kept the secret for three years, 
 hidden as if in the grave. Have I not been brave, good, 
 merciful to him, to hide from him the miserable extent 
 of his folly ? Did I not do my duty when he wrote me 
 this letter, to return it unanswered ? " 
 
 This slip of the tongue was instantly perceived by 
 Helen. She smiled in superb contempt. "If you re 
 turned the letter," said she, the slow disgust making 
 her voice stingingly quiet, "how does it happen to be 
 in your possession ? " 
 
 Sybil was silent. She knew not which way to turn. 
 Finally conjuring up another falsity, she answered, 
 
 "Since I came here I begged him to give it to me 
 again, and he did so. You know he loves me." Her 
 tones rang out defiantly, "He gave it willingly, yes, will-
 
 224 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 ingly. Why do you try to battle with ine ? You can 
 only gain sorrow by it. He loved me from the moment 
 he saw me. If he wronged me it was because he loved 
 me too well. And I ? I loved him too much to stand 
 in his way. I have seen life, I know the world. Money 
 means power, and to him money meant you. Without 
 you he would be a pauper ; with you he is a millionnaire. 
 What would any woman do who thought nothing of giv 
 ing her life for the man she loved ? Sacrifice herself. 
 Yes, sacrifice herself. Men do not, but women do. I 
 did. I buried myself for months, I bore his child in a 
 garret ; I hid it, as I believed, for many years to come 
 in the country, far away from Paris, and I refused to 
 marry him because to marry him would be to take away 
 his fortune. Will you curse me for thus loving him 
 whom you love, whom you own, whose allegiance you 
 can claim, whose life must be held to yours with bonds 
 of iron, whose children may be yours ? Will you 
 denounce me to him and show him his child and bring 
 this horror and disgrace on yourself ? For the love of 
 Heaven and justice, do not do this bitter thing." 
 
 Helen looked at her coldly. 
 
 "Is it not just possible that you refused him because 
 it would take away his fortune to accept ? Is it not 
 just possible that you remembered money was a power, 
 regarding yourself ? I believe poverty would not be 
 agreeable to you, madame. I think you prefer laces to 
 rags. If by marrying him you would have gained 
 instead of lost a million, you perhaps might have given 
 him a different answer. And now, now that he has 
 become master of his property by this supreme sacrifice 
 of yours, where do I find you ? Wearing out your heart 
 away from him ? Killing out a bad passion by honest 
 endeavor, or turning to some other pursuit than the 
 vain and reckless follies of a woman of the gay world ?
 
 SINNER ! 225 
 
 No ! You are here, under his roof, the guest of his wife, 
 enjoying his hospitality, hiding from him his true rela 
 tionship to you, accepting his favors, torturing him with 
 the person which beguiled him, exercising all your wiles 
 and graces to win his noble heart away from the right 
 path and to steal his soul away with your infernal arts. 
 He has his money now, and what may not be your scheme 
 to finally make it yours ? You are here, as you claim, 
 the injured woman whom he wronged, the mother of the 
 child he never knew, for what ? He loves you, you say. 
 What then ? What do you intend ? What do you 
 propose ? With what seductive charm do you mean to 
 entice him, and when you have captured him what shall 
 you do with him ? You will lead him down to per 
 dition." 
 
 She poured this torrent of words upon Sybil with 
 overwhelming intensity and solemnity. She seemed to 
 burn with them. Sybil sat as if stunned. Was this 
 the cold, the gentle Helen ? Was it possible that this 
 magnificent anger which lit up her beauty until she 
 gleamed like a lurid star, was a part of the woman 
 whom she had sneeringly called "tame"? She became 
 cold and horribly afraid. She could not answer. She 
 felt a strange sense of moral fear. If a great angel of 
 God had drawn a flaming sword before her and called 
 her " Sinner ! " she could hardly have experienced a more 
 singular feeling of awe. Her spirit was struck a blow 
 which searched it to the quick. Her very mind seemed 
 congealed. A long silence followed. At last Sybil 
 shudderingly asked in a low tone, 
 
 What shall you do ? " 
 
 " I shall do what is right and just to each and every 
 one of us, regardless of consequences. I do not believe 
 this tissue of paltry lies, but I will give you the benefit 
 of the doubt. You may be telling the truth, I shall
 
 226 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 take every honorable method to find out. But since 
 you plead with me so earnestly, and since at last you 
 shed tears of entreaty, humbly begging instead of defy 
 ing me, I promise you to reserve my judgment until 
 later, and that I will not take any step towards enlight 
 ening my husband as to your character, until I have 
 given you fair warning. But of one thing rest assured ; 
 if you have been wronged and have made this sacrifice 
 truly and purely from love of my husband, I will do 
 you full justice. The wrong shall be repaired, the love 
 and sacrifice returned fourfold. You shall be repaid 
 with joy ten times what you have suffered. But if you 
 have accused him wrongly, Sybil, God pity you ! 
 Meantime the child is mine. I shall adopt him. He 
 will be my charge. If he really belongs to my husband 
 it is right that he should, consciously or unconsciously, 
 live under his father s influence. Certainly, you had 
 abandoned him in person if not in purse. He was being 
 no comfort to you, and you were giving him nothing of 
 a mother s attentions. In any case, you cannot own 
 him. He is orphaned of both parents. You cannot 
 claim him. You are not in Paris now. You are not a 
 madame here. You are a young, virtuous gentlewoman, 
 associating with pure and honorable gentlewomen. You 
 are a lady, here. You are a maiden, madame." 
 
 And so are you," almost shouted Sybil, in a mad, 
 triumphant burst. " And so are you ! " 
 
 Helen looked upon her with a quiet dignity whose 
 calmness seemed the very chrism of chastity. 
 
 "That is true," she said gently, "and my sense of 
 justice will be all the more unbiassed in consequence." 
 
 " Oh, that some power would strike her dead," thought 
 Sybil, a murderous desire seeming to stifle her. "How 
 dare she plunge the dagger into me with such a cool, 
 scornful, delicate hand ? "
 
 "YOU SHALL DIE FIKST!" 227 
 
 For one spark of human feeling yet remained within 
 her; one bright, beautiful enthusiasm, one fond ambi 
 tion, one loyely passion, warm and tender, still flooded 
 her treacherous and selfish heart. It was her love for 
 her little child. She sobbed out loud. She wept tears 
 of agony which she could not stay. This time the 
 anguish was too terrible to be feigned. 
 
 " What, take my baby from me ? Never let him 
 know his mother s face ? Bring him up to love, re 
 spect, admire you? To give you the beautiful name 
 of mother ? To give you the caresses of his little 
 arms, the love of his beautiful eyes ? My child your 
 child ! My rights your rights, my love your love ? Oh, 
 no ! this is too great a punishment. It is too hard. I 
 shall never live to bear it. You will kill me. You can 
 not, you shall not do it." And dashing forward, she 
 fiercely caught Helen by the arm. "You shall die 
 first ! " 
 
 "Very well," said Helen quietly, "I will take him 
 down to dinner and introduce him as your son." 
 
 Sybil could bear no more. She went to the door and 
 turning, looked with baffled and merciless hate upon her 
 hostess. But she simply said, " And I ? " 
 
 Helen unlocked the door and opened it for her to 
 pass. 
 
 " You will dress for dinner and be the wittiest and 
 gayest of the party. You are on probation."
 
 228 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTEK XXVII. 
 
 THE KOSE BLOOMS. 
 
 " The utterance of tlrese things is torture to me, but so, too, is 
 their silence. Each way lies woe strong as fate." 
 
 Prometheus Bound. 
 
 "I cannot speak 
 
 Of love, even, as a good thing of my own, 
 Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak, 
 And placed it by thee on a golden throne." 
 
 Portuguese Sonnets. 
 
 HELEN had disappeared very soon after dinner, and as 
 she went to her own room, she sent an order to her 
 butler. James appeared before his mistress in a twink 
 ling. Her servants loved her. " I am about to send 
 you to New York, James, to accompany a lady to a 
 foreign steamer. I have ascertained that a steamer sails 
 for Havre to-morrow at noon. You will take the mid 
 night train, and in the morning escort her directly to 
 the office of the line, where you will buy her a first-class 
 ticket. Accompany her then to the steamer and see 
 that her state-room is agreeable. Secure her a good 
 seat at table, and speak to the stewardess about her com 
 fort. When you have done this remain on the dock 
 until the steamer sails, and do not come home without 
 being able to assure me that she has sailed also. At the 
 last moment, before you leave her, hand her fifty dollars, 
 and tell her to remember what I have said to her. Here 
 is sufficient money. Come home at once when the 
 steamer is under way, and if any one questions you,
 
 A SURPRISE 229 
 
 either now or later, here or there, you can answer simply 
 that I permitted you to visit New York. Treat the 
 lady with perfect respect. She is French, and cannot 
 talk with you. And James, the carriage will be at the 
 side door, nearest the stable, at about eleven. Be prompt 
 and keep your instructions fully in your mind. Do you 
 understand me ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think I do," said James, respectfully. "My 
 old master, your uncle, Miss Helen, as you well know, 
 trusted me with a good many of his affairs, and, Miss 
 Helen I mean madam I am sure you know, well 
 I ll do all you say, ma am, and not make a single mis 
 take." 
 
 " You are a good soul, James," said Helen, smiling very 
 kindly at him, "and I trust you fully. This matter is 
 important. James, you may be somewhat astonished to 
 find a little boy in this house when you come back. I 
 am going to adopt one." 
 
 "Well, ma am," he said in answer, turning to hide a 
 chuckle, " I ope as it won t be the last little boy we 
 shall hever see around here, not presumin too much." 
 
 " Say nothing of this, James," said Helen, quietly ; 
 and the door was delicately closed behind him. 
 
 " And this French lady is the little feller s mother," 
 thought James, cunningly. " She s sold im, the frog- 
 eater ! Hah ! " 
 
 " The little feller " was sound asleep in the inner 
 room, all unconscious that his nurse had forever left him, 
 when the morning sun crept softly across his pillow and 
 touched his silky head to shimmering gold. A pretty 
 young maid stood gazing upon him with wonderment 
 and delight. Helen watched the expression of her face 
 and said pleasantly, " I promised you a surprise yester 
 day. How do you like it ? " 
 
 " Oh, ma am, isn t he just a little love, a little darling !
 
 230 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 And am I to wait on him and take care of him, ma am, 
 all the time ? " 
 
 " Yes, Kitty, he is a poor little boy who has no father 
 or mother to protect him, so I thought I would let him 
 live here with us as our own. I hope he will prove a 
 good child. I hope you will always treat him with 
 patience and kindness, Kitty. Do you promise ? " 
 
 Tears leaped from the great, generous Irish heart of 
 the girl to her bonny, blue eyes. " Indeed I will. I 
 will never say a cross word to him." 
 
 "Very well, when he has had his bath and breakfast, 
 you may send one of the maids to me and I will take him 
 down-stairs." 
 
 "I have a little surprise for you all," said Helen, 
 entering the breakfast-room, where Ralfe and most of 
 the guests had assembled. " Somebody said the other 
 day that this house would be perfect if it only had some 
 children playing about. I am determined to make the 
 house perfect, and so I have secured a pretty little child. 
 Shall I bring him to you ? " 
 
 A shout of glee went up at this announcement. Guy 
 brought forward a remarkably natural earthen pug dog 
 and queried, " Is it this kind ? " 
 
 " Or this ? " said Charlie Vane, pointing to a cunning 
 cupid on the ceiling. 
 
 " Or this ? " smiled Sardia, lifting a porcelain hen 
 from her dish of snowy eggs. 
 
 " Is it alive ? " cried Lulu, with wide eyes, " really and 
 truly alive ? " 
 
 "You shall see," answered Helen, smiling, and in a 
 few moments coming back through the door, she was 
 seen leading by the hand the sweetest, manliest little 
 man of three that they had ever met. 
 
 Every one was speechless with astonishment. Then 
 a perfect chorus of voices demanded to know who he
 
 AN INNOVATION 231 
 
 was, where he came from, who was his mother, who his 
 father, if he was to stay, and if she had really adopted 
 him, and finally Ralfe said gently, " What is his name ? " 
 Helen parried all these questions with infinite tact, while 
 the boy, glancing his dark eyes about from one to another, 
 seemed solemnly to consider his new surroundings. 
 
 " His name shall be that of the person to whom he 
 shall voluntarily go. You may all coax him." So then, 
 one and all called and coaxed, held out their arms and 
 begged him to come to them. Helen bent clown and said 
 softly in French, " Go to the one you like best, dear," 
 and he slowly released his hand from hers and marched 
 straight into Ralfe s arms. 
 
 " I am charmed," articulated her husband with a deep 
 flush rising to his forehead. Then looking into the 
 bright, trustful little face that was gazing in sober 
 baby-fashion into his own, he lifted the little lad up, 
 kissed him, and swinging him to his shoulder, marched 
 up and down with his trophy really delighted, while the 
 others laughed, " Victory, victory ! his name is Ralfe." 
 
 " Oui, oui ! " cried the little chap, hearing his familiar 
 name, "Ralfe, Ralfe." 
 
 "Was not that a slight innovation of our mutual 
 comradeship ? " said her husband to Helen later, when 
 the boy had been taken into the garden by his new nurse. 
 " Should you not have told me ? " a little reproachfully. 
 
 " I did not suppose you would be especially inter 
 ested," she answered. "I can amply provide for him," 
 and she dropped her eyes with a sudden loss of color. 
 
 " Helen," he cried passionately, " I am interested in 
 everything you do, say, think ! Do you imagine I can 
 have lived so long in your presence, and remain cold 
 and dispassionate ? No, no, it is you, always you who 
 are not interested in me. Had you been, had you read 
 me, understood me, this might not, I mean that I
 
 232 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 always feel a comradeship a partnership, at least, in 
 all that concerns you." 
 
 They had followed the nurse and child slowly down 
 the path, and now stood near that clump of oaks, under 
 which Guy and Lulu had learned the spider s lesson. 
 
 "You flatter me," said Helen coldly. "I had not 
 supposed you capable of deviating a hair from the true 
 line of your devotion." 
 
 A dark flush crimsoned Ralfe s face, and he angrily 
 crushed an oak-leaf in his hand. " I am used to being 
 believed," said he. 
 
 " Then if it is true, and you really take an interest, I 
 will answer your question. You wished to know if I 
 did not think I had made an innovation ? Well, yes, 
 but under the circumstances a most natural one." 
 
 " I do not understand you, but I wish to return to my 
 protest. I wish you to know, Helen, how deeply, how 
 richly you have impressed me with your consideration, 
 your goodness, ah I cannot, I dare not say nay, I am 
 too proud to say what I wish. Why cannot you see, 
 read, feel all that is growing in my soul ? " clasping her 
 hand fervently yet impatiently, and gazing into her 
 face with wistfulness and strange passion, as if something 
 was dawning with a flush of rosy light in the dark night 
 of his troubled being. 
 
 " You can love, how deeply you can love, I know full 
 well ! " answered his wife in a soft, sad tone ; " but it is 
 not me. Do not speak," as he tried to interrupt her. 
 " Let us have an understanding, since you desire it. 
 You love, you have always loved Sybil Visonti with 
 your whole being. You wished to marry her. You 
 wrote her so in words that seem to burn where they are 
 written. She is here, and you love her more madly than 
 ever. Would you not say the same words over to-day if 
 you could ? "
 
 IS NOBODY TRUE? 233 
 
 " What do you know of that letter ? " asked Kalfe, 
 looking at her with infinite surprise. 
 
 " Here it is," she answered, drawing it from her little 
 bag, and placing it in his hand. " I restore it to you." 
 
 Her husband looked at her with a face growing more 
 and more white and dazed. 
 
 "So it was you, you, who took that letter from my 
 desk. Curious and dishonorable ! Who would have 
 believed it ? I thought, at least, my private papers, my 
 own writing desk, would be held sacred by you. By 
 Heaven ! Is nobody on earth true ? " 
 
 As he uttered these words, Helen raised her head 
 higher and higher until righteous pride flashed on him 
 from her eyes, and her lips set themselves in a stern, 
 strong curve. " Sir," said she, " you are speaking to 
 me." 
 
 The dignity of that quiet word of self-assertion caused 
 him to stop short. 
 
 A moment of silence ensued, when Helen said quietly, 
 " Miss Visonti placed that letter in my hand yesterday." 
 
 "Oh, I see ! " uttered Ralfe, starting as if shot. "It 
 is Miss Visonti who is to bear the blame. Well, madam, 
 it won t do. I know positively that she never saw that 
 letter, never so much as saw it in Paris when I sent it 
 to her. I searched for it myself, in order to show it to 
 her, and although I am certain I left it in my desk, / 
 could not find it. I suppose you had been before me." 
 
 Helen stood as if transfixed before his scornful looks. 
 
 She trembled a little, as if a rough wind had sent a 
 blast of sleet against her. 
 
 "Nevertheless, the first time I ever saw or heard of it 
 was yesterday, when, to prove her assertions that you 
 had always loved her, had wronged her, had tried to 
 repair your wrong by an offer of marriage, which she 
 from self-sacrificing love refused, because she knew you
 
 234 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 would lose our uncle s be quest should she accept, Sybil 
 Visonti gave me that letter to read, and told me of the 
 awful secret between you for so long." 
 
 " When did I wrong her ? " slowly asked Ralfe, after 
 a strange silence, in which he had taken time to think 
 this extraordinary statement over, and meantime had 
 leaned heavily against the oak. 
 
 The letter fluttered from Helen s outstretched hand to 
 the ground, and she half turned away her head. " About 
 four years ago," she answered in a low tone, a blush 
 creeping over her face and neck. 
 
 "How did Miss Visonti come into possession of the 
 letter, did you say ? " went on Ealfe in a voice half- 
 indifferent sounding, it was so soft and tempered. 
 
 "You gave it to her yourself since she came here 
 willingly, because she asked you for it." 
 
 "And how did I get it back from her in the first 
 place ? " 
 
 " She sent it back, and without an answer, on purpose 
 to drive you away, and pique you to come over here and 
 secure your fortune by marrying me." 
 
 " Where is James ? " suddenly and loudly spoke Ealfe, 
 stepping forward with a terrible look. "Where is 
 James, your spy, James ? " 
 
 Helen faced him in amazement. "James!" she fal 
 tered, thinking quickly and with horror, " Is he crazy ? 
 "James," she repeated with a frightened air, "I have 
 sent him to New York." 
 
 "Oh!" ejaculated Ralfe with a laugh of infinite 
 bitterness and scorn. " Oh, you have sent him to New 
 York ! Madam, you are not much of a strategist. You 
 should have suspected that I would hit upon your plot 
 and the way of it. You should have had him here, well 
 coached. It looks suspicious to have him in New York. 
 Well, what else did he hear ? "
 
 LOVE S ROSE 235 
 
 Helen had recovered her calmness. She saw Ralfe 
 was not crazy, and she was certain he was entirely 
 ignorant of the truth. "Ralfe," said she, "I do not 
 know what you mean about James, and I intend to 
 explain his absence. But you force me to plain meas- 
 ures-.by suggesting that I am not speaking facts. Miss 
 Visonti told uie yesterday that as the result of the 
 wrong done to her was utterly unknown to you, and she 
 had kept it as a sacred secret from you all these years, 
 that you could not understand, and it would be cruel to 
 tell you. But I cannot permit such complications to 
 arise. I am ready, as I told her, to do all in my power 
 to set this terrible matter right. If you still love each 
 other; if she truly made this tremendous sacrifice for 
 you ; if she has concealed the results of your folly from 
 her devotion to your happiness, you and I will repay 
 her tenfold what she has suffered. It is useless to con 
 ceal it, the truth is always best. Ralfe, the child you 
 see there, playing by that flower-bed, is rightly named. 
 He is your child, and his mother is Sybil Visonti." 
 
 Ralfe looked at the child, then at Helen, and again at 
 the child, finally breaking into a laugh, such a laugh ! 
 He laughed first as if the comicality of the whole affair 
 was too delightful for anything, and then laughed with 
 a growing satiric scorn until it fell on Helen s ear like 
 drops of flame. 
 
 "Madam," he finally answered, his quiet being more 
 impressive by contrast, "that is an unmitigated false 
 hood. I am a man, but I am not ashamed to say that I 
 am pure." 
 
 When a rose is just about to open its rich petals to 
 the sun, yet still hangs heavy and hesitating on the 
 stem, and a sweet, clean, fresh breeze sweeps along, 
 catching its fragrant leaves with a quickening vibrant 
 force, the blossom suddenly turns its beautiful self
 
 23G SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 upward, and displays in an instant its heart of ruddy 
 gold. 
 
 So Helen, caught by the sweep of this unexpected 
 speech, divinely clear and simple, driving away every 
 evil and heavy thing out of her soul, and giving her its 
 life and force of truth, looked up. 
 
 And, as he gazed into that heart of gold, lying open 
 before him, breathing its beauty, its fragrance, its 
 exquisite essence of invisible sweetness, purity, and 
 goodness upon him through her illumined face, the dead 
 ened, darkened, netted, ensnared spirit within him 
 leaped with an impetuous rush for freedom. Responsive 
 to that wonderful attraction, which for the first time 
 was fully put forth to draw him, his being answered 
 as does the harp to a master-hand, and he recognized in 
 one keen, ecstatic instant the dual, the only mate to 
 mate his soul. 
 
 Without another word, both trembling with the hid 
 den, heavenly peace and joy which both knew had come 
 to each, and was shared by each, they moved apart to 
 meet a maid who was hurrying towards them. She 
 hardly stopped to make her little courtesy before she 
 burst out, " Oh ! madam, would you not come quickly to 
 see Miss Visonti ? She went to bed very soon after 
 dinner, and it seems she has been ill ever since. And, 
 madam, I am afraid, I am afraid, and Jane is afraid, 
 something very strange is the matter with her. She 
 seems to not know us, and she keeps saying, Tick 
 tock, the clock on the stairs, and then she will say, 
 The moon, oh ! the moon, it will follow me, follow me 
 and kill rue, it will ride over my grave.
 
 A LITTLE VISIT 237 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 " A worthless woman ! Mere cold clay, 
 As all false things are ? hut so fair, 
 She takes the breath of men away, 
 Who gaze upon her unaware. 
 
 I would not play her larcenous tricks 
 To have her looks ! She lied and stole, 
 And spat into my love s pure pyx, 
 The rank saliva of her soul." 
 
 The Nightingales. 
 
 " That door could lead to hell ? 
 That shining merely meant damnation ? 
 What ? She fell like a woman who was sent 
 Like an angel, by a spell! She who 
 Scarcely trod the earth turned mere dirt ? " 
 
 Mrs. Browning. 
 
 As they approached the entrance, they perceived Sig- 
 nor Zante, who was standing on the great steps awaiting 
 them. A groom was just taking the Princess Menshi- 
 koff s white horses around to the stable, which indicated 
 that he had come to make one of his unceremonious little 
 visits which had grown to be a pleasure to all. He 
 watched with his keen old eyes the expression resting 
 on the young faces coming toward him, and their joyous 
 confusion seemed to cast a slight shadow over his own. 
 
 "I wanted to see you, both," he hesitated, "as I 
 had something important to say, but I see there is 
 something unusual going on. Why are you so agi 
 tated ? "
 
 238 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 "Miss Visonti is ill," replied Helen, "and I must 
 hasten to her. She did not appear at breakfast, and 
 from what her maid says, I should judge she has a 
 fever." 
 
 She went by in continued haste to the telephone, and 
 was soon heard calling up her physician. 
 
 " You, at least, can listen to me," said Signer Zante to 
 Ealfe. " I beg of you to come at once to the library, 
 where we shall not be disturbed." 
 
 Ralfe had watched Helen move along into the morn 
 ing-room with a curious look in his eyes, but now turned 
 with alacrity to his guest. 
 
 " Certainly," he said, " but first will you not have a 
 glass of wine ? You look pale. Have you had bad 
 news ? " 
 
 "I will take a little brandy, please. Thanks. Xo, I 
 am many years beyond personal troubles," he answered 
 with a smile. " But I am never beyond feeling my old 
 heart quake for my friends," and as he seated himself in 
 Ealfe s " workroom " he gave him an affectionate glance. 
 
 " There is hardly anything more bitter in life than its 
 disillusions. To pull down our idols and examine them 
 microscopically causes us the same pangs that we might 
 fancy an insect feels when denuded of his wings. He 
 can fly no more and our goddesses become poor earthy 
 creatures, unable to crawl any more into our regards. I 
 am sad, this morning, because I propose to disillusion 
 you. I am going to strip your goddess of her wings." 
 
 During his speech Ealfe had flushed a deep, dark 
 color, as if some intense emotion, strongly controlled, 
 was playing within him. 
 
 " You speak of Helen ? " he said. 
 
 It was now Signor Zante s turn to flush with surprise. 
 A sardonic smile, however, crept over his lips, which be 
 could but half conceal.
 
 THE KUBY DAGGER 239 
 
 " Since when ? " he said simply. 
 
 Kalfe looked up with a manly candor. 
 
 "It should have been always," he answered, rising 
 and looking his old friend straight in the eyes, " and it 
 is, now." 
 
 " I congratulate you on coming to your reason," grasp 
 ing his hand warmly. "Now, my task will not be so 
 trying. Kalfe, do you remember seeing a very beautiful 
 ornament worn by Miss Visonti in her hair ? It is a 
 dagger, and the hilt is set with fine rubies. She some 
 times takes it out and plays with it, as if it were a paper- 
 knife ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I have often seen it. She wore it last even 
 ing." 
 
 " Did she ever make any remarks about it ? " 
 
 "Nothing save to say that it was a gift." 
 
 " How long has she had it ? " 
 
 "Oh, of course I don t know. But I remember she 
 had it in Paris more than a year ago, for I cut my hand 
 on it one evening." 
 
 " I do not know who gave it to her," said Zante 
 thoughtfully, "but I am pretty sure. I think it was 
 Julian Savelli." 
 
 " Her brother ? Visonti ? " exclaimed Ealfe. " Why, 
 she has never yet met him." 
 
 "I think she has," replied his friend decidedly. "I 
 think she has." 
 
 " She seemed astounded the evening you mentioned 
 him. Don t you remember how she did not know or 
 dream she had a brother ? " 
 
 " That is true. She did not dream Savelli was her 
 brother, but she had met him all the same, and I am 
 confident her agitation arose from far graver causes 
 than the mere surprise of discovering a new relation. 
 But let me tell you all I know of Savelli, or rather,
 
 240 SAUDI A: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Visonti. The Princess Menshikoff was a life-long 
 friend of Signor and Madame Visonti. Their palace 
 in Venice was in their early life, as homelike a resort 
 for the princess as for themselves, in two words they 
 were most intimate friends. The little boy Julian even 
 called the princess aunt, and always considered her as 
 one of the family. In those days the Visonti family 
 were fairly prosperous. They were infinitely proud of 
 their long genealogy, and devoted to idolatry to the young 
 heir of all their glories. He became a spoiled child, 
 and at fourteen was quite as mature as some youths of 
 twenty. He became almost ungovernable and was always 
 in the midst of mischiefs which kept his parents in a 
 state of terror for his and their reputation. One day he 
 did not return to dinner nor at night, nor the next day, 
 and upon search of the most rigid nature, nothing could 
 be discovered of his whereabouts. But the shock of his 
 disappearance was supplemented by something even more 
 terrible to the heart-broken father and mother. The 
 princess was visiting them at the time, and her jewel 
 case was found to be gone. It contained ornaments and 
 family gems which were invaluable for their historic asso 
 ciations, and the value at the lowest estimate reached 
 forty thousand pounds." 
 
 Ralfe made an exclamation of surprise. 
 
 "It seems almost impossible, in these days of sordid 
 calculation, that a woman should part with such a for 
 tune in jewels without making an effort to discover and 
 punish the thief, but the Princess Menshikoff had a na 
 ture unlike most women, as you know. Her love for 
 Madame Visonti, whose prostration was alarming, led 
 her to abandon the thought of making further sorrows. 
 Very wealthy, the sum was not of so stupendous a char 
 acter as to embarrass her, indeed, she would have 
 always preserved the gems for her heirs intact, and she
 
 IN A NEW LAND 241 
 
 could not claim of a man whose whole estate would not 
 cover a quarter of the amount, any reimbursement for her 
 loss. It was decided that nothing but appeals to the boy s 
 heart should be made. No complaint to officials should 
 ever disgrace the old name. For some weeks personal 
 notices, worded in such a manner as to convince Julian 
 of silence and forgiveness if he would return, were scat 
 tered through the press of Europe, but if he saw them 
 he spurned the proffered kindness and never replied. 
 His father and mother, stricken by so great a grief, 
 could not endure longer the associations of their youth. 
 Banishing from their lips forever the name of their 
 erring son, they left the old Visonti palace to be inhab 
 ited by tenants, and emigrated to America, to begin a 
 new life in a new land. 
 
 Singularly enough, fortune took a turn in their favor, 
 and from some excellent investments and speculations, 
 it was not long before they began to enjoy something of 
 the old prosperity and luxury of their ancient state. 
 Then awoke a desire to have some representative of 
 their name, on whom to bestow their later gains. Their 
 urgent offers to the princess to pay her from time to 
 time sums which should reimburse her for her financial 
 loss, had always been steadily refused. I shall outlive 
 you both, she would say with a confident smile, and 
 then you may make a provision in your will. Maybe 
 through such an act your Julian may even at a late day 
 be reclaimed and brought to a noble manhood, and she 
 would smile her wise, deep smile which seemed to pro 
 phesy the far future with its serene power. 
 
 A beautiful little Italian girl was accidentally brought 
 to the notice of Madame Visonti, when in the rush of 
 Broadway, the carriage wheels almost crushed her, 
 barely escaping with a slight bruise. The little one s 
 screams brought to her side an organ-grinder, who had sent
 
 242 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 her across the street on her perilous errand of collecting 
 pennies. A mere baby of four or five years, her extreme 
 loveliness attracted the most marked attention, and Ma 
 dame Visonti at once felt her heart beat with sympathy 
 and affection. Without ado, she told the father that she 
 would like to adopt his child, and as he did not demur, 
 an appointment was made at once. The result was that 
 the man signed papers by which he conveyed Sybil, his 
 baby, irrevocably to the Visontis, and they legally 
 adopted her at once, bestowing upon her their name, 
 and as we are all aware, their devotion and protection." 
 
 Ralfe sat white and motionless on hearing the latter 
 part of this narrative. Slowly he said, 
 
 " She is not a Visouti at all, then ? " 
 
 "No, and not of noble blood. She comes of the 
 people and even the lower class of people. Her 
 mother died at her birth. She was a peasant, and her 
 family had all been peasants before her. The father 
 was a native of Ravenna. A barber-shop was his birth 
 place and his ancestry were of the same calling. I am 
 sorry, but it is the simple truth." 
 
 " Yet she is so proud, so intellectual, so refined/ mur 
 mured Ralfe. 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Signor Zante. " Has she not had 
 every possible advantage of education ? Manner may 
 be acquired. Morals are of deeper and more frequently 
 hereditary origin. Character may be improved upon, 
 but the deep passions rooted in the being, control the 
 nature after all. She is all you say and it is the polish 
 on the surface. But she is more, and the stronger part 
 she conceals." 
 
 " You speak as if she were all evil," cried Ralfe in 
 dignantly. 
 
 " How can you suggest it ? " answered Zante quietly. 
 " No one is all evil. But do not let us stumble here
 
 THE LAST OF THE RACE 243 
 
 let us continue the story. You remember that the 
 Visontis were well known to your uncle, and that your 
 wife became a schoolmate of Sybil. At the end of her 
 convent life both parents died within a few months of 
 each other, and Sybil was left quite alone without rela 
 tives. An opportunity to travel was offered by a trusted 
 friend, a fashionable widow, and Sybil went with her 
 abroad. She had been to Venice with her parents once, 
 when a child. They had sold the old Venetian palace. 
 It was not long before by a strange fatality her guardian 
 fell ill and died also, exposing her to the necessity of 
 self-control and self-protection, for she had no one 
 apparently, to whom she could properly go for a home, 
 unless she returned at once to her home in America." 
 
 "She was the only Visonti in the world, she used to 
 say," murmured Ralfe, " the last of the race. " 
 
 "It is almost pitiful," said Signor Zante, "to have 
 such pride debased. But she had already found a pro 
 tector." 
 
 " What ? " cried Ralfe leaping up, " a man ? " 
 
 " Yes, a man," replied Signor Zante with a sympa 
 thetic look. " She had met Julian Savelli." 
 
 " My God ! her brother ? " 
 
 " Yes, her adopted brother. Whether they both, or 
 either, knew their relationship in law, I cannot tell, 
 but I presume without doubt, he did, while she did not. 
 In any case she became deeply attached to him, and, 
 I dislike to tell you, she became his " 
 
 " Do not say another word," groaned Ralfe. " I know 
 what you are about to say. Her child is in this house." 
 
 It was now Signor Zante s turn to look up with aston 
 ishment. 
 
 " She told you ? " 
 
 "No. I was told this morning. She has shielded 
 her lover by accusing me."
 
 244 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 Both men stood niute and trembling with excitement. 
 The complication of affairs was astounding to each. At 
 this moment Helen entered, bearing a small glass of 
 wine. She too was pale with excitement and sank into 
 a large chair, taking all the wine with a single breath. 
 
 " Is she very ill ? " the men exclaimed, one grasping 
 a fan and the other relieving her of the glass. 
 
 Helen burst into tears. She gave one appealing glance 
 to Ralfe, as if she dreaded to tell him the truth, and 
 then said in a low voice, 
 
 " She has brain fever. She is raving with delirium, 
 and I am afraid I am to blame, I was too severe." 
 
 They looked at her with surprise and sympathy, when 
 Signer Zante patted her head in most fatherly fashion. 
 
 "That could not be, my child," he said. "Your 
 severity even, would be kind." 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed Helen, rising and flashing her beau 
 tiful eyes from one to the other in sudden cold hauteur, 
 which startled them. " No kindness, simply justice re 
 mained. She had accused my husband of a great crime. 
 I punished her with my whole wrath. I put her on 
 probation." 
 
 Signer Zante smiled. 
 
 " How many women would have tempered their anger 
 in that way ? " 
 
 "You did.not believe it ? " cried Ralfe eagerly. 
 
 She looked at him with a half-deprecating, half-appeal 
 ing expression. 
 
 " I did not know," she answered. " I waited." 
 
 " I cannot think your severity caused her fever," now 
 remarked Signer Zante, ignoring this little scene be 
 tween them. " There must have been a terrible pressure 
 of anxiety on her mind from the moment she discovered 
 Savelli to be Visonti. But, madam, you do not yet 
 know the real story of your guest. Let us tell you."
 
 MADAME S JEWEL 245 
 
 They then on perceiving her growing calmness, rap 
 idly detailed their past conversation. Even as Ralfe 
 had been amazed and overwhelmed by the revelations, 
 so Helen listened with a changing countenance, full of 
 keenest feeling. As Signor Zante came again to the 
 point where he had been interrupted, Ralfe was thrown 
 into a state of agitation almost equal to that of Helen. 
 
 " Is that all ? " he exclaimed wildly, rising and pacing 
 forward and back with rapid strides. " Is that all ? 
 Go on, go on, signor, I wish to hear the end." 
 
 Helen ceased weeping and watched both men with a 
 strangely dismayed countenance. 
 
 " May I finish, madam ? " said Signor Zante, noticing 
 her intense pallor. 
 
 " Go on by all means ; do you not see how much he 
 suffers ? " and that she suffered also was only too plainly 
 visible. 
 
 " The Princess Menshikoff knows of the birth of her 
 child, because Miss Visonti went to the old Visonti 
 palace when her condition became known to her. By 
 an accident, the child was even born in the apartment 
 of the princess, who, as usual, had taken rooms there, 
 during her stay in Venice. That dagger was in her hair 
 when she was borne unconscious into the bed-chamber, 
 and at once with little difficulty, Madame Menshikoff 
 ascertained the name and station of her unbidden guest. 
 
 Astonished at finding her own jewel in the possession 
 of a stranger, a small mark on some of the linen, which 
 was perfectly well known as a part of the Visonti crest, 
 to their old friend, easily led her to suppose that she 
 must be the adopted daughter, of whom she had often 
 heard, but had never seen, and with her usual wisdom, 
 she suspected that the brother and sister had met, since 
 otherwise it would have been too strange a coincidence 
 for Sybil to possess the jewel. Lending her own maid
 
 246 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 to the unfortunate girl, it was her design to take Sybil 
 under her protection as soon as she could properly 
 announce herself as an old friend of the family, when 
 in the night the young mother with the rnaid and child, 
 stole away without so much as an acknowledgment of 
 her care. Subsequently Madame Menshikoff ascertained 
 all that I have previously told you, and has always 
 known the true situation of affairs from the time she 
 arrived here, called by the counsel of the Visonti family 
 to be present on the final opening and settlement of the 
 will. To-day, you remember, is the twenty-third, the day 
 appointed when Julian Savelli is to appear in New York 
 to claim his estate in person. To-day, also, then, the 
 Princess Menshikoff has arrived there, to meet him and 
 to secure from him either a statement of where the 
 jewels may be and how recovered, or to obtain the sum 
 set apart for her by his parents. It is supposable that 
 he will be there, and even now, the matter may have 
 been adjusted." 
 
 " When did she start ? " asked Helen suddenly. 
 
 " Last evening by the midnight train," answered 
 Zante. " I accompanied her to the depot." 
 
 " And should Yisonti not appear, what would be the 
 result ? " asked Ralfe, stopping in his restless walk. 
 
 " Sybil would be sole possessor of the estate." 
 
 " He shall marry her ! " cried Ralfe savagely. " He 
 shall marry her, by God ! " 
 
 As he uttered these words, a faint knock at the door 
 was followed by a slight opening, and James, hat in 
 hand, red in the face and covered with dust appeared. 
 Seeing the gentlemen he looked dubiously from one to 
 the other until Helen said quickly, 
 
 " Come in at once and shut the door. "Well, what have 
 you to say ? " 
 
 He hesitated and looked again at the gentlemen.
 
 DANTIN 247 
 
 " Speak," commanded Ralfe, "answer your mistress." 
 
 "Madam Helen/ he began, "I fear 3^011 will be very, 
 very angry, ma am, but I could not do as you ordered. 
 The French lady did not sail, and I had to come home 
 without doing one thing you told me to. But I m not 
 to blame, ma am, I did my best a-persuadin and a-per- 
 suadin , but she wouldn t listen to me, and away she went." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " exclaimed his mistress in 
 surprise. " Where did she go ? " 
 
 " Well, ma am, the Princess Menshikoff took er, and 
 told her as how she must go with her. She came into 
 the train just after I got her seated, ma am, and in a min 
 ute the Frenchwoman she give a scream and called her 
 something in her houtlandish landgwige, and first I 
 knowed, I was bordered hoff, and when we got to New 
 York, they told me that I could go home, as I wasn t 
 wanted. So I had to come, Miss Helen, hi never was so 
 hagitated hand put hout in all my life, and I couldn t 
 elp it, ma am, I certainly couldn t." 
 
 "Do not disturb yourself, James," said Helen quietly, 
 "matters have come up since you left which make it 
 quite as well that the Frenchwoman should remain in 
 this country. On the whole, all has happened for the 
 best. You may go." 
 
 " What Frenchwoman ? " asked Ralfe, the moment 
 James had disappeared. 
 
 "I, too, have a sad story to tell," answered Helen. 
 "While you were all gone yesterday, a Frenchwoman who 
 called herself Dantin, came running on to the lawn " 
 
 "Why, that was madame s maid," exclaimed Zante, 
 "the maid who ran away from Venice with Miss Vi- 
 sonti." 
 
 " She had a little boy with her. She inquired for 
 Madame Visonti and seemed in great fear, saying she 
 was pursued. She said a man was trying to steal the
 
 248 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 boy and had followed her from Paris even to this place. 
 She had escaped from the hotel and believed he was 
 immediately behind her. She claimed my protection as 
 the friend of Miss Visonti. I took her at once to my 
 room, and there ascertained that Miss Visonti was a 
 mother but whether a wife the woman did not seem 
 to know. I kept them quietly in my room and waited, 
 all day. It seemed a year. On Sybil s arrival I brought 
 them face to face. At first Miss Visonti denied all 
 knowledge of them, but finally said the child s name was 
 Ralfe, his father s name. I then spoke with intense 
 anger and told her I should adopt the child as mine, 
 that she certainly could not claim him, and that if he 
 were Kalfe s, he should be under his father s protection. 
 Upon this she pleaded so earnestly that I should keep 
 her secret, that I assured her I would do the very best I 
 could for all concerned, while she was to be silent and 
 wait. I saw no necessity for the complication of an un 
 known Frenchwoman in the house, so sent James to 
 New York with her last night. You have heard the 
 result." 
 
 "But the man," exclaimed Kalfe, "the man in pur 
 suit ? Who could he be ? Did he come ? Did you see 
 him ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " It was Savelli of course," said Signor Zante, " it 
 could be no one else. He doubtless has now left town 
 and gone to New York. Perhaps he went by the same 
 train with the princess. How strange ! " 
 
 " We shall see," said Ralfe, with suppressed passion. 
 " We shall see."
 
 A NOTE 249 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 AVENGED. 
 
 " Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he 
 fall." 
 
 Corinthians. 
 
 THE words, " You are on probation," had scathed 
 Sybil s proud heart as few could. As she slowly left 
 Helen s apartment, her hatred seemed to flame from 
 forehead to feet. On the dressing-table of her chamber 
 were quite a number of letters, and as she entered, pale 
 and trembling from her recent interview, she took them 
 up and mechanically read them over, glancing at the 
 handwriting with eyes which saw not, and taking in 
 the name " Miss Sybil Visonti " with unheeding mind. 
 She opened none, and was about tc drop them when a 
 note, as yet unnoticed, really attracted her quickened 
 attention. 
 
 With an exclamation she tore it open and read the 
 signature which she already divined would be there. 
 
 I am arrived and must see you at once. At once, I say. Do 
 you understand ? Leave your garden at nine to-night, and walk 
 on the narrow path above the cliff. I will be there. 
 
 JULIAN SAVELLI. 
 
 " Lordly as ever," she murmured with a low proud 
 laugh. Then, suddenly struck with a horrifying remem 
 brance she shuddered and thought, " Why should he not 
 be ? A Visonti ! " W r ith what a maddening mixture 
 of emotions had the thought of his name rilled her since
 
 250 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 that dreadful night when Signer Zante had so uncon 
 sciously struck his deadly blow. 
 
 " Was it unconscious ? " she suddenly cried out to 
 herself. Did he, did not the princess know ? Was 
 it not a bitter, a fiendish revenge, following naturally 
 the warning of madame ? How many now, knew the 
 secret of her past ! How many, openly and secretly, 
 were leagued together to expose it to the world and 
 cover her with shame ! But who, who knew what she 
 knew the most appalling secret of all the father 
 hood of that child ! She seemed enmeshed in a very 
 tangle of fatal forces, which she could neither compre 
 hend nor control. Yet with a few moments intent 
 study of the present situation, with a rebound from the 
 crushing sensation of Helen s scorn and the certainty 
 of ultimate disclosure, she quietly resumed her usual 
 diplomacy and proceeded to dress. 
 
 Every movement of that elaborate toilette was one of 
 subtle meaning. Her plastic body, trained by long habit 
 to interpret every thought of her mind, seemed speechful 
 even to herself, as she caught a sudden gesture in the mir 
 ror and read it like an exclamation. The cheek burning 
 with a deep red glow beneath the determined, set eyes ; 
 the teeth strongly shutting upon each other until the 
 lips were pursed into a chiselled firmness ; the grand 
 globes of the lace-shielded breast heaving slowly, but 
 with wonderful underthrobs of the heart Avhich bounded 
 with her busy, teeming brain, and shook her of its own 
 deep beating; the limbs which moved more and more 
 majestically from point to point, as with a rounded plan 
 and purpose she steadily approached the moment when 
 she should begin her last play in the miserable game, 
 were a language unuttered and unutterable, for they 
 each contained a volume. 
 
 Kobing herself in a silken gauze-like gray gown,
 
 THE TURRET ROOM 251 
 
 touched here and there with splashes of scarlet, and 
 thrusting a keen-bladed dagger through her hair, its 
 tiny hilt covered with rubies like drops of blood, she 
 at last descended the long staircase a magnificent 
 mass of flame and smoke, as if she had arisen from the 
 very gulf of Hades. She entered the drawing-room as 
 lightly as if a smoke-wreath had stolen through the 
 doors, but the soft lights deepened her crimson, flutter 
 ing, waving ribbons into a fiery glow. Eveii Sardia 
 involuntarily gave a soft cry of admiration. 
 
 ISTo incident marred the charm of that, dreaded dinner. 
 Half weary from the exertions of their pleasure trip, 
 conversation was carried OR in a desultory fashion, and 
 after coffee some sat down to a quiet game of cards, 
 some lolled in the luxurious smoking-room, while Lulu 
 softly played for Guy, whose constant attendance had 
 of late renewed the roses in those too pale cheeks and 
 revived the brilliant spirits so strangely clouded over. 
 
 " I love my little room up in the turret all alone," she 
 murmured innocently over the keys. " Helen changed 
 the furniture on purpose for me. It was a surprise. It 
 seems she wished me to room with Sybil for a while, 
 just to make all the delightful decorations to suit my 
 own taste ! And it is such a sweet room, Guy ! I can 
 see the stars as if I were in the sky myself, and some 
 way, since I went up there, my thoughts have seemed 
 to change. Mornings I wake so fresh and happy, be 
 cause the sun creeps through the soft blue draperies, as 
 if through a tender mist ; and then at night, I feel God 
 very near, His moon peeps in so, and I pray and forget 
 all trouble." 
 
 " Trouble, little one ? " answered Guy wistfully, "what 
 trouble can you have, dear heart ? " 
 
 "That is just it," said Lulu with a puzzled, weary air, 
 " I don t know what it was, but when I was down-stairs
 
 252 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 I felt sad, and wicked." And she gave a quick little 
 crashing chord on the piano and rose. 
 
 Guy followed her to a great cushioned window and 
 began to talk of the future. Soon a sunny smile chased 
 away the fleeting frown and she was coquetting with 
 him as sweetly as he could wish. 
 
 " How happy papa and mamma look ! " said she, 
 glancing at the whist-table where they Avere seated. 
 " Was it not kind of Helen to invite them here to spend 
 this last week ? You know she never met them, as I 
 came with her simply as her bride s-maid. How strange 
 that she should have selected me, Guy ! But I am 
 sure she knew how truly I loved her, how happy it 
 would make me ! And to think to-morrow will be the 
 last day of our visit ! " she ran on. " Don t you hate 
 to go, dear ? " 
 
 "Yes," he answered, a soft cloud fleeting over his 
 kind face. " But most because I am sure we leave poor 
 Helen unhappy. I had thought the season would end 
 with a happy denoument the villain brought to justice 
 and the lovers united but we must leave everything 
 in a muddle, it seems." 
 
 " Foolish Kalfe ! " sighed Lulu. 
 
 Wrapping a soft shawl about her shoulders Sybil had 
 stolen unperceived down the garden walk and out along 
 the cliff. At the point where the great rock guarded 
 the little cave so familiar to her, she saw standing 
 awaiting her the man who was her love, her curse, her 
 fate, and so much more, that a sudden faintness almost 
 overpowered her as she felt the touch of his hand. 
 
 "Come in here, out of sight," he said gently, leading 
 the way into the rift of the rocks so often used by 
 lovers as a happy trysting place. " Sybil, it is long 
 since we met." 
 
 " You missed me then ? "
 
 THE LAST VISONTI 253 
 
 " Enough to follow you." 
 
 " Oh, no," she answered with slow scorn. " Do not 
 utter any more falsehoods. You came for a fortune." 
 
 " And my child," he. said distinctly. 
 
 "Our child," answered Sybil. 
 
 " We shall see about that," said Savelli roughly. 
 
 " Julian, Julian, my God, what can you mean ! Not 
 our child ? Not mine ? Are you mad ? Do you know 
 who you are and who I am and who he is ? What have 
 you come to do ? How can our secret be hidden ? " and 
 she dropped on to a rock, clasping her hands in an agony 
 of suspense. 
 
 " Why, simply give up my boy to me, and I will hide 
 the secret fast enough. You have Ealph on hand, 
 haven t you ? The child would be inconvenient." 
 
 " Are you a fiend ? " 
 
 "No, I am a Visonti." 
 
 Sybil rose and put both hands on his shoulders, hold 
 ing her blazing eyes close to his own. "And my 
 brother," she uttered in a blended sigh and hiss which 
 seemed to be the escape of her very soul. 
 
 " Certainly not," said Julian cheerfully, " nothing of 
 the kind." 
 
 Sybil sank back on the rock as if stunned. Her face 
 was gray against the dark rock, and the dim light from 
 the sickle-moon but gave it a deadlier cast. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " went on Savelli, flipping a bit of ash from 
 his cigar, " I am not so bad as that, my dear. If I had 
 truly had a sister, maybe I should have been worthy the 
 old name. You have been awfully proud of the old name, 
 haven t you, Sybil ? I never could bring myself to dis 
 illusion you, and I never would have done it if I had 
 not become heir to the property. But you see / must 
 take it now, and spoil your pretty pride in being the 
 last Visonti of the race. My boy is the last Visonti 
 now, and a very clever little chap he is."
 
 254 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " And who is his mother ? " asked Sybil in a tone 
 whose indifference seemed the apathy of death. 
 
 " Oh, you ! what ? by blood or adoption ? By blood 
 you are some obscure person s daughter, no doubt ; by 
 adoption you are legally a Visonti, my adopted sister." 
 
 " Did you know this when you met me ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I couldn t help it, you know. But you told 
 me the old people only left you a paltry sum, the income 
 of which was just enough to keep body and soul 
 together in these days, and I fancied it was no use 
 saying anything. You see you were not a Visonti, and 
 you were devilish handsome and fascinating. They 
 were dead, and what harm could it do ? " 
 
 "What harm could it do?" repeated the dazed woman, 
 looking at him in despair. " What harm could it do ? " 
 
 "Why do you sit there repeating my words like a 
 parrot ? Why don t you say where the boy is, and when 
 I may have him ? " 
 
 " Are you going to marry me ? " said Sybil, suddenly 
 rising and standing in an attitude which suggested the 
 panther. 
 
 Julian laughed a little, half-inaudibly. "A Visonti 
 doesn t marry that kind," he answered in a low tone. 
 
 Quicker than a flash of light, the jewelled dagger with 
 its keen, keen point had cut a curve of silver in the 
 darkness. Quicker than the sword-thrust of an expert, 
 it had struck home ; straight through that cold, false 
 heart. Savelli with a smothered shriek fell backwards 
 and down. The tide was nearly high, and the water 
 deep. Sybil stood with the little blade poised in her 
 hand. It did not drip with blood. There was but a 
 slight stain upon it. She listened breathless. There 
 was not a sound. With a great sigh she slowly moved 
 away, on, up, over the rugged pathway, stooping when 
 she reached a little mound of earth, and thrusting the
 
 A LIVING HU^IAN HEART 255 
 
 dagger in and out, in and out, until it glittered in the 
 scanty moonlight like an icicle. Back in her dark locks 
 again, who dreamed, as she softly crossed the garden, 
 what its home had been for one brief instant, a living 
 human heart ? 
 
 She sped up to her room unnoticed, and grasping the 
 little note, burned it in the gas-jet to ashes. Then, 
 looking out of her casement on to the gloaming sea, 
 whose waves would soon be on the ebb, she said under 
 her breath, " You will not claim the Visonti estates in 
 person on the twenty -third," and sank softly to the floor 
 in a death-like swoon.
 
 256 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 GOOD-BY. 
 
 "As travellers oft look back at eve, 
 
 When eastward darkly going, 
 To gaze upon that light they leave 
 
 Still faint behind them glowing, 
 So, when the close of pleasure s day 
 To gloom hath near consigned us, 
 We turn to catch one fading ray 
 Of joy that s left behind us." 
 
 Thomas Moore. 
 
 SIGNOR ZANTE, after their trying interview, having 
 taken his departure, saying that nothing could be done 
 until the Princess Menshikoff s return, the house fell 
 into that strange, waiting silence which always accom 
 panies sudden and dangerous illness. 
 
 Fortunately it had been planned that the few remain 
 ing guests should spend the day fishing in Sardia s 
 yacht, that the preliminary arrangements for leaving 
 the villa for the season might more easily be made. 
 
 The engagement of Lulu with Guy Thorne had drawn 
 her father and mother to Spray View, and another 
 engagement, which had not been formally announced, 
 but which was tacitly understood between Charlie Vane 
 and sweet, quiet Jo Millard, had netted all the friends 
 in a mesh of sympathy and pleasure which Sardia had 
 delighted to enhance. 
 
 The advent of two trained nurses, the coming and 
 going of two physicians, added to the whispered suspense
 
 THE END OF SUMMER 257 
 
 and awe of the servants, made a dreary day in the hith 
 erto cheerful mansion. The occasional cries and moans, 
 which issued from the sickroom, the sudden and terrible 
 bursts of auger followed by still more sudden silences, 
 as of horror, filled all hearts with pity for the woman 
 whose beauty and grace had ever swayed her associates 
 with bewitching charm. 
 
 The sight of Helen seemed to aggravate the intensity 
 of Sybil s delirium, and she was forced to leave the 
 room, much as she desired in any way to soothe and calm 
 her. Kalfe had hurriedly driven off immediately after 
 Signor Zante, and the little boy, taken by his new nurse 
 to the beach, no longer filled the halls with his childish 
 chatter. To-day it had been arranged to break up the 
 whole party. The end of their happy summer had 
 come. Already many of their friends had flitted to one 
 of those interior towns, where they would prolong their 
 fashionable gayeties far into the autumn. The wedding, 
 which might prove a double one, of Lulu and Guy, would 
 take place at the bright Christmas season, and it was 
 hoped that many would then be reunited under the 
 holly. 
 
 Helen had decided to go up to the old farm, the 
 homestead of that uncle whose liberality to herself and 
 Ralfe had endeared to them every spot he had ever 
 loved. The Princess Menshikoff also, who had simply 
 waited for this da} , had long been eager to return to her 
 beloved India, accompanied by Signor Zante, and, as she 
 hoped, by Sardia. Her whole influence had long been 
 brought to bear upon him, to convert him to that mag 
 nificent scheme of the revival of the ancient wisdom 
 religion, which she believed would be the salvation of 
 modern India. 
 
 " They will never embrace Christianity," she argued ; 
 " let us give them back in its purity, its truth, its noble-
 
 258 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 ness, the original, untainted religion of the Light of 
 Asia." 
 
 To him, now, any part or place in the world was 
 indifferent. Sardia s soul was filled with its hopeless 
 love. His immense Avealth was useless to bring him 
 true pleasure. His culture, his taste, his manhood, 
 might as well be given to his fellow-man in India as in 
 any other country. " I must live my life," he would 
 sigh, thinking with painful intensity of his utter loneli 
 ness, " and not as a coward, but as a man. It shall be a 
 life that shall praise her. She shall feel that I have 
 lived it in the sight of God, and the memory of her." 
 
 But not until he saw her happy, not until Ralfe 
 stood "awakened and repentant by her side, could he 
 endure the thought of leaving her to bear in silence a 
 grief that matched his own, and which was aggravated 
 by the continual agony of seeing her love ignored for 
 the capricious fascinations of another. 
 
 The intimacy of thought between him and the vener 
 able princess had ever been that of a genuine comrade 
 ship. She read his heart with the ease of a mother, the 
 tender sympathy of a loyal friend. Not until yesterday, 
 however, had she deemed it wise to detail to him the 
 full story as she had ascertained it of Sybil Visonti s 
 life. Before her departure to the train, she had called 
 him into her curious boudoir and given him the details 
 of that episode which had culminated in the belief of 
 the illegitimate union between the adopted brother and 
 sister. " Say nothing ! " she exclaimed, rapidly giving 
 the facts. " I have always promised you, have I not, to 
 make your Helen happy ? I have bided my time, but I 
 will not spare. Julian shall marry Sybil ; their child 
 shall inherit the estate, or the disgrace of that early 
 crime shall blast him on the very threshold of happi 
 ness. Do you think, then, that Ralfe will be still infat-
 
 ABNEGATION 259 
 
 uated ? Or will he recognize in all its fairness and 
 generosity, the character of the wife who loves 
 him ? " 
 
 She went to the train, leaving Sardia in a singular 
 state of melancholy. 
 
 " My desire will be gratified, she will be blessed. 
 But my desire, my desire ! never will it be mine, never 
 in all the world ! " 
 
 With gracious courtesy he had joined her guests in 
 the early morning, and taken them for their day of 
 pleasure with courtly kindness. With knightly grace 
 he had sent her a message of good-by, at the very 
 moment when with angry words on his lips and a flame 
 of passion in his heart, Ralfe had suddenly stood con 
 victed of the true love of his life. 
 
 His yacht had hardly spread her white sails to speed 
 along the glittering waters of the bay before the desire 
 of his soul had been answered in a flood of purest joy in 
 hers, while the last ray of hope, which might have 
 brightened the horizon of his future, faded out into 
 clouds and darkness. But not in vain are such loves 
 given and renounced. Abnegation, who goeth in sack 
 cloth and ashes on earth, hath in Heaven seamless gar 
 ments, white as no fuller can white them. 
 
 The return of the gay party at evening was saddened 
 by the news of Sybil s illness. They had not particu 
 larly noticed her absence from breakfast, as she often 
 indulged in very late hours, her hostess never failing to 
 have her served with some dainty, when at last she 
 came, elaborately dressed and imperially smiling , into 
 the breakfast-room. The evening thus somewhat 
 clouded by anxiety, and the soft shadows which inevi 
 tably fall upon the ending of any joy, although we are 
 sure it will soon be renewed, was spent in quiet talk, the 
 lights turned low, and the conversation full of reminis-
 
 260 SARDIA: A ST0RY OF LOVE 
 
 cences of this or that hour which had been spent in 
 agreeable diversion or pleasanter repose. 
 
 " We can never forget any part of it, dear," said Lulu, 
 clasping Helen s hand with her little fingers. " We owe 
 you and Ralfe a halcyon summer, a dream of para 
 dise." 
 
 "May I say also, how deeply indebted I am to you 
 for so delightful a season ? " queried Guy, joining the 
 two, and clasping both hands in his. "I think none of 
 your friends will ever count in all their lives a happier 
 visit. " 
 
 The others joined them in expressions of genial 
 thanks, and urgent invitations were offered to homes 
 which would always be open for their welcome. 
 
 "Of course we cannot go with you to-morrow," said 
 Ealfe in a quiet tone. "We may be delayed indefinitely. 
 Sardia, you have no engagement, have you ? You do 
 not mean to rush off to India at once, do you ? I know 
 it will be a dull house here now, but could you not 
 stay with us a little longer ? I shall feel lost without 
 any of our old friends. Helen, ask him to stay." 
 
 " It would give me infinite pleasure," she answered, 
 looking truthfully into his eager eyes. " I fear it will 
 seem very lonely and quiet, but I am sure you will not 
 mind it ; for if you can help any one, you always forget 
 yourself." 
 
 The color flushed his face gently as he turned to 
 Ralfe. " I will stay with pleasure, if I can deserve so 
 kind a compliment. Signer Zante and madame do not 
 sail until next month. They have decided to go in iny 
 yacht," he said modestly. 
 
 " To India ! " exclaimed a chorus of voices. 
 
 "Why not ? " with a smile, "she has been around the 
 world." 
 
 " And do you go too ? " said Lulu tearfully, her pretty
 
 "PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW" 261 
 
 face clouded with real sorrow. " Shall you not stay for 
 my for our " 
 
 " For your wedding, little one ? I can only send you 
 my blessing across the waves. I shall go too." 
 
 The pouting lip curled into the innocent lines of 
 childish grief, and the quick tears fell at once from her 
 limpid eyes. She ran out of the room, and could be 
 heard sobbing as she climbed the stairs. Sardia was 
 her girlish ideal. Not her love, not her joy ; but the 
 grave, grand gentleman who had won her supreme 
 respect and reverence and admiration. The beautiful 
 feeling which her tears represented was shared by every 
 one Avhose hand he had grasped, whose life he had daily 
 touched with some delicate attention, or lifted by some 
 noble thought. The silence which followed Lulu s steps 
 was throbbing with a responsive sympathy, which drew 
 them around him in a saddened group. 
 
 After some further conversation, there was a general 
 movement towards their rooms. 
 
 " If you don t mind," said Charlie Vane, " I believe I 
 will bid you all good-by to-night. I go very early, and 
 some way, I dislike to say farewell at the last mo 
 ment." 
 
 "Yes, let us all say good-by now," they exclaimed 
 softly, standing in the broad hall, while Helen, Ralfe, 
 and Sardia formed an accidental group against the 
 velvet portiere, "we shall remember it all so pleas 
 antly, your faces like a portrait-painting against that 
 background. Good-night, good-night, we will not say 
 good-by. Heaven bless and keep you." And one by 
 one they stole up-stairs, each turning friendly and lov 
 ing faces down upon the fair uplifted heads and answer 
 ing eyes that watched them on their way.
 
 262 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 AVOWALS. 
 
 " It is not meet for thee to voice 
 Thy impotent longings to the skies, 
 And vaunt thy feeble sacrifice 
 As if thy fate had been thy choice. 
 Thy duty deep in silence lies; 
 Thou hadst thy will, thou payest the price; 
 Thou mayst remember, not rejoice." 
 
 Charles G. Whiting. 
 
 " I AM very glad you invited me to remain," said Sar- 
 dia the following day. " I have long sought an oppor 
 tunity to speak with you on a subject very near to me." 
 
 The great house had sunk into seeming slumber. Al 
 though open and sunny, although garnished as usual 
 with flowers and in that exquisite order which ever 
 pervaded its refined atmosphere, it seemed lonely and 
 dreary. No gay voices laughed and chattered from room 
 to room. There was no swish of silken skirts, no odor 
 of cigars just lighted, no manly whistles resounding 
 in the bed-chambers. Occasionally a sound of cries or 
 angry remonstrance came from the direction of Miss 
 Visonti s room, where she lay in dangerous delirium, 
 attended by her two nurses and the frequent calls of her 
 physicians. The little boy had made an hour s divertise- 
 ment in the morning before he had been taken to the 
 beach, but now, Helen, weary with excitement, had re 
 tired to her room. 
 
 " Yes," said Sardia, repeating his remark a little louder
 
 A CONFESSION 263 
 
 since Ealfe seemed absorbed in thought and did not 
 answer, "I am glad you asked me to remain." 
 
 " Anything particular ? " said his host looking up 
 with that dazed aspect which brings people back from 
 wool-gathering. 
 
 "Yes," said Sardia, "very particular." 
 
 " AVell ? " courteously and with now awakened in 
 terest. 
 
 " I wish to speak with you about the woman I love." 
 
 "A confession ? " smiling with a kind of pain in it. 
 
 "A confession of what you already know," replied his 
 friend, coining nearer and seating himself quite in front 
 of Ralfe. " I love your wife." 
 
 The expressions of anger, amazement and amusement 
 struggling in Ralfe s countenance would be the despair 
 of a painter. 
 
 " I am charmed," he finally uttered, with his sarcastic 
 soft air. 
 
 "Yes," went on Sardia, coolly and slowly, "I have 
 loved her from the moment I first saw her at your 
 uncle s house, the year he sent you to Europe and took 
 her home to him. She was only thirteen, and I was 
 twenty-four but I loved her and I love her now." 
 
 " Why didn t you try to win her ? " asked Ralfe, a 
 dull red mantling his countenance, and a dull glow 
 creeping into his eyes. 
 
 " When your uncle died, you remember, you and I 
 were doing the Pyramids. You told me of the terms of 
 your uncle s will. To save your fortune, it was neces 
 sary you should marry her. On the very night you told 
 me of this situation of your affairs, I intended to tell 
 you of my love. I meant to ask your permission to 
 address Miss Gray, as you had really stood nearest to 
 her uncle and would be his heir. But of course, when 
 you informed me that you had been selected for her 
 husband, 1 kept silence."
 
 264 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " Sardia ! " exclaimed Ralfe, grasping his hand, " can 
 this be possible ? " 
 
 " It is true," he answered simply. " I thought," he 
 continued in a low, retrospective tone, "that perhaps 
 you would not comply with the terms of the will. I 
 thought that perhaps when you met, you would not love 
 each other. But I could not interfere between you. I 
 kept away, waiting, hoping; yes, longing to hear that 
 you had mutually, or one of you, had refused to be gov 
 erned by a dead will, but I heard of your marriage. 
 You invited me to come. Why should I refuse ? I 
 longed at least to see her, for I loved her. When I saw 
 you, when I saw Miss Visonti, I knew I had not come 
 in vain. You did not care for Helen, she was your 
 wife but in name. Your heart was bound up in that 
 woman up-stairs there. Helen had been deceived." 
 
 The growing sternness of his voice and features, the 
 bitter contempt which, modulated by the ever-present 
 grace and courtesy of the man, only shaded his tones 
 with anger, struck Ralfe s easily touched nature with 
 keenest blows. 
 
 He sprang to his feet and cried, 
 
 " You insult me." 
 
 "No, I only tell you the truth." 
 
 "And have } ou told Mrs. Fielding the truth like 
 wise ? Have you told her you loved her ? " giving him 
 a terrible look. 
 
 "I am human," said Sardia. "I could not see this 
 noble, generous, beautiful woman, this heart of heaven 
 neglected, ignored, insulted, without pouring out my 
 whole soul at her feet. Yes," said he rising and stand 
 ing in all the dignity of his pure purpose, " I told her I 
 loved her. I told her that my only wish was to make 
 her happy; my only desire to see her where sorrow 
 could never again reach her; where she might forever 
 lean upon the faithful breast of her husband."
 
 A DIVORCE 265 
 
 During these words Ralfe became half frenzied. 
 
 " By God ! Sardia, be careful. I believe I shall kill 
 you if you say another word." 
 
 Sardia waited a moment, still looking into the quiv 
 ering face before him with his strong, fearless gaze. 
 
 " She offers you a divorce," he said. 
 
 Kalfe started as if a rifle-ball had struck him. He 
 looked at his guest with wide, frightened eyes, as if he 
 saw a pit beneath his feet. 
 
 " A divorce ? " he murmured. 
 
 " Have you not desired it ? Have you not planned 
 for it ? " said Sardia sternly. 
 
 With a low cry, Ralfe flung his arms into the air. 
 
 " Great Heaven ! Yes," said he. 
 
 He sank into a chair and buried his face in his arms. 
 Sardia resumed his seat, and in his usual calm tones 
 continued, 
 
 " When I told your wife of my love, and offered her 
 rny whole being for her happiness, I knew she loved 
 you. Every action, every look, had told me, over and 
 again, of her deep, abiding, wonderful, silent passion. I 
 hoped for nothing, I asked for nothing but to serve her. 
 In the mutual sympathy which arose from this confes 
 sion, she told me that she too had given her very soul 
 away, and to you. Then, when her beautiful eyes wept 
 such tears as would blot out the sins of the meanest 
 creature, she asked me if she could not in some way 
 give you your desire. 
 
 " * What is my anguish ? she said, if I can only give 
 him the joy he craves. If I suffer, what must he suffer, 
 with this beautiful woman whom he loves beside him, 
 yet with a barrier of iron between them ? Oh, I am to 
 blame, to blame. I should have seen he did not love 
 me, and have guessed he loved another. I found it out 
 the first night of our marriage, when I inadvertently
 
 266 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 overheard a few sentences spoken to Guy Thome. From 
 that moment I have wished to do this. If Sybil is 
 worthy of Kalfe, and their love is a noble and lasting 
 one, I wish them to belong to each other. I wish to 
 annul this marriage, which to him is a horrible bondage, 
 and placing her hand in his, wish them God s blessing, 
 and then go away somewhere and die. " 
 
 A silence followed only broken by the soft wind blow 
 ing the leaves. Then Kalfe looked up. 
 
 " Sardia," he said humbly, looking at his friend with 
 entreating eyes. " Will you forgive me ? Will you 
 take my hand ? How loyal you are. Let me tell you. 
 Your soul will comprehend it. Yesterday, in the very 
 midst of angry revelations about Miss Visonti, I looked 
 into Helen s face. Do you remember the conversion of 
 Saul recorded in the Bible ? A great light came out of 
 the sky, and he saw his Lord and Master in its shining. 
 Sardia, in Helen s face, I saw a light which drew me 
 into heaven. My spirit grew clear-eyed under a seeming 
 sun of flooding light. With a joy unspeakable I felt 
 my spirit mingle with hers. Old things were forgotten, 
 the past a blank, the future uncared for. I awoke a new 
 creature. I became my true self. I threw off my bond 
 age of sin, I loved her." 
 
 His speaking countenance reflected the glory of that 
 remembrance. Ecstasy beamed from his eyes. 
 
 " It is enough," said Sardia. 
 
 Wringing his hand, Kalfe swiftly left the room, and 
 was soon heard riding rapidly away. 
 
 Sardia, left alone, sat silently in the shadow of the 
 wind-blown branches that swept the low window, for 
 nearly an hour, and then made his way out of the quiet 
 house down to the sea, where, in one of the hollowed 
 chambers of the cliffs, he listened to its sad, soft mono 
 tone, until, soothed and broadened by contact with its
 
 PEACE 267 
 
 measureless expanse, across which he was so soon to 
 pass never to return, his face took on a semblance half 
 divine. There he gained .that harmonious peace which 
 comes to the soul that has no boundaries to its benevo 
 lence, but god-like, sweeps the universe with its patient 
 wins.
 
 268 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 SELF-CRITICISM. 
 
 " When all ray life was wounded and forlorn, 
 It felt the sacred influence wrought by thee, 
 As when sweet airy couriers of the morn 
 Fling rosy prophecies o er shadowed sea. 
 
 And now, though manlier force yet droop and fail, 
 Though deathless memories haunt me past control, 
 Dear spirit of peace, thou art the nightingale, 
 That warbles amid the darkness of my soul." 
 
 Edgar Fawcett. 
 
 RALFE rode away from the town with its beautiful 
 suburbs of villas and cottages, and turned into a road 
 that followed a stream out into the country. As soon 
 as he found himself alone on the way, he became obliv 
 ious of his surroundings and sank into deepest thought. 
 His horse took his own gait, now ambling along, now 
 stopping a moment to crop a clover-head, or trotting up 
 a rise with pleased freedom, while the master whom he 
 loved held a steady rein, but never gave a sign of com 
 mand, or moved in the saddle. 
 
 Singularly enough his thoughts turned first upon him 
 self. He went over in mind the life which had been his 
 since he had grown beyond boyhood, and entered upon 
 the experiences and emotions of a man. 
 
 " How I have sighed for a companion," he mused. 
 "I need one so much. I am so solitary. I am solitary 
 in my affections, my intellect, my spirit. Sweet as is 
 the intercourse of my immediate friends, there is an un-
 
 OUT OF THE DARKLESS 269 
 
 satisfied longing in the heart of every man of culture 
 for a companion for his mind, his soul ! Not that I am 
 a man of any culture, but I am a little different, a 
 little more thoughtful than most men, in things not of 
 absolutely practical importance, and am I to blame ? 
 It would be very sweet to have a leisurely companion 
 ship which would be an elevation, an inspiration to 
 both. It would be a heavenly thing to feel that close 
 beside me might beat a heart, patient, noble, tender, 
 sympathetic and comprehensive." With this he drew a 
 long deep breath, as if drinking in a finer air. "Can it 
 be that this great joy is to be mine ? " he went on, speak 
 ing to his own soul. " Out of the darkness and blindness 
 and ignorance and wickedness of an unrighteous passion 
 am I to be lifted to the white heights of a righteous 
 love ? I do not deserve it. I can never be worthy of it. 
 
 "And yet, while I believed in her, what was Sybil 
 to me, but the one ideal perfect soul that matched rny 
 own ? God knows that false as she may have been, I 
 was never so. While I loved her she was the dream of 
 excellence which put all other women out of sight. I 
 was true to my ideal. Perhaps it was this very intense 
 longing for comprehension and sympathy which made 
 me cling so long to her, whose beauty drew me, whose 
 wit charmed, whose soft appealing eyes said worlds of 
 sweetness and yet mystically hid a deeper meaning. I 
 cannot fathom it. Now I cannot see her beauty. I only 
 remember her hours of passionate languor and fascina 
 tion with a shudder. How can I have ever felt my very 
 being sick for a touch of her hot, scarlet lips ? I would 
 not, I could not now endure them. 
 
 And even at the moment of delirious joy when we 
 were first left alone, she was plotting my ruin ! Coldly, 
 carefully, she arranged to drive Helen to desperation 
 and a divorce by accusing me, and while I supposed I was
 
 270 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOYE 
 
 plotting with her to the same result, she was securing both 
 ends of the noose, in which to net her dearest friend and 
 bind her lover at once ! I am appalled at my own stupidity. 
 I can never plead that I had not enough hints to open my 
 eyes. The borrowed money the diamonds her pre 
 tence of improvising Helen s poem ; and yet, love found 
 such easy excuses, her smile was so full of trust, which 
 misled. But the letter. How did she get it and 
 when ? How could she dream I still possessed it, or 
 where I kept it ? My desk is always locked, by what 
 means did she contrive to obtain it ? I must find that 
 out. Helen looked very strangely when I accused 
 James. I will ask James. 
 
 " But Helen ! If I have been stupid as regards Sybil, 
 what word can express my blindness about my wife ? 
 Thank God, thank God, she is my wife, and I can show her 
 by long years of perfect tenderness how deeply I value 
 the unasked, unnoted treasure of her love. To think 
 that all these weeks and months this silent, exquisite, 
 melancholy self-sacrifice has been going on for me, loyally, 
 hopelessly, patiently. To think that her kind heart, suf 
 fering its own secret sorrow, has held for me nothing 
 but sweetness, in return for all I have heedlessly heaped 
 upon its sensitive and trembling strings. 
 
 " Oh, since she married me at all, with her keen and 
 delicate sense of honor, it was because she loved me 
 from the first, and hoped to win by her great devotion 
 a response which would satisfy her longing. Vain hope ! 
 Vain fool that I have been ! With what ceaseless care 
 she has tried to give me every advantage ! To think 
 that on our wedding night, the moment when every 
 girlish fancy was sweetest, she should have heard me 
 say that I did not love her, and presumed she was up 
 stairs planning some bit of dress. No wonder her mod 
 est soul sought refuge in her scheme of becoming a
 
 AN UPLIFTED LIFE 271 
 
 comrade ! Anything else would be prostitution in her 
 pure eyes. Thank God I agreed ! Yes, thank God I 
 had sense enough to agree ! 
 
 "And since? A series of patient, gentle, persevering 
 courtesies, and charities, and self-sacrifices, which have 
 made my life a freedom, an uplifting, a joy. So well 
 has she guarded her secret, that at this moment nothing 
 she has ever said or done could prove to me anything 
 more than an unalterable friendship. Dear woman, won, 
 yet never wooed ! How shall I ever dare to approach 
 the sacred shrine where lies hidden this wonderful 
 wealth of affection ? Only its supreme outpouring can 
 hide my past from her clear gaze ! Only its own strength 
 will grant me the grace of being worthy to be hers. It 
 is like the lavish love of the Father, which seeks nothing 
 but love in return, to blot out the transgressions which 
 have defiled and stained the human soul beyond all rec 
 ognition. 
 
 "And I have thought she loved Sardia. When she 
 sobbed in my sick-chamber, after her long watching, I 
 fancied it was from longing for Sardia. Longing ! Why, 
 that was the name of her poem ! There she spoke her 
 heart out ! There she told me in lines of melancholy 
 beauty, that she hungered for it so ! And I believed 
 it was for freedom and Sardia ! This was pure wicked 
 ness. If my mind had been filled with anything but 
 wickedness, I never could have misread that plain appeal. 
 My heart was hard, my eyes were darkened, because there 
 was no light in me. Had I repudiated the woman who 
 tempted, I should have known the woman who loved. Sin 
 smothers the spirit ! 
 
 "I will go home, bravely, faithfully. When God wills, 
 He will find a time to put my wife in my arms, close to 
 my heart. I will tell her all. Lay my soul at her feet, 
 bare of all its superficial coverings, with all its, earthy
 
 272 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 stains. If she will raise me to her side, I will bless her. 
 If she justly refuses her pardon, I will bless her. Never 
 came culprit before a truer judge. My wife, rny darling, 
 my Helen ! " 
 
 On his arrival home he called James into the library. 
 "James," said he, "I have lost a letter. Did you know 
 it ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " How did you know it ? " 
 
 " Poor Anne, sir, was weeping in the kitchen, sir, 
 when I came home that evenin , sir, and she said you 
 were angry with her, sir." 
 
 " When you came home in the evening, James ? 
 Where had you been ? " 
 
 " Why, sir, you sent rne yourself to see to that mort 
 gage on the Rowley farm, sir, and it was a good twenty 
 mile. I couldn t get home earlier, sir." 
 
 " Ah ! " thought Mr. Fielding with a contented sigh. 
 " Yet I could accuse Helen of setting him as a spy ! 
 James," said he slowly, "I have always trusted you, 
 ever since I was a lad. That letter was very important 
 to me. I have never found out how I lost it. Don t 
 you think you could manage to get some clew to it ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir, I can. I know who stole it." 
 
 " Stole it ! " exclaimed his master, jumping up. 
 
 " Yes, sir, stole it. I saw it done." 
 
 " Tell me at once ! " 
 
 "The night it was stole, sir, was that ere queer kind 
 o doin s you had in the drawin -room, when Miss 
 Visonti fell asleep in her chair, and you folks went in 
 to hear the mistress sing. You stayed in the library, 
 sir, as you may remember, after all of em had gone to 
 bed. After I got to bed myself, I happened to think, 
 sir, that I had neglected to wind your wallable clock in
 
 JAMES TELLS 273 
 
 the hall, and so I slipt on somethin or other, and crept 
 down to wind it. But just as I was a-goin to, I saw the 
 missis " 
 
 " Your mistress ! " cried Ralfe in a voice of pain. 
 
 " Wall, no, twarn t her; I was sure it was at first, but 
 it warn t. When she come down by me into the light, 
 I saw twas Miss Visonti, sir, and you was a-settin 
 a-readin of a letter. She crept up behind you, unbe 
 knownst, and would a done somethin , I don t exactly 
 know what, if she hadn t a caught .sight of the letter. 
 She just come backards like a crab as smooth, sir, as 
 if she d a been oiled, and when you tossed the letter in 
 the desk, and slammed down the cover, and went out of 
 the winder on to the lawn, she skipped back like as if 
 she was a bird, and grabbin the letter, she run up the 
 stairs as if the Devil was arter her, and I do know 
 but he was." 
 
 Kalfe kept silence a moment, thinking of his walk in 
 the garden. In an instant he remembered seeing Sybil s 
 silhouette on the curtain. She was reading a letter. 
 
 " Why did you not tell me of this at the time ? " he 
 queried sternly. 
 
 James fumbled with his coat and picked at his cuff. 
 Finally he answered in a low tone, " I feared it would 
 cost me my situation, sir, if I spoke against Miss 
 Visonti to you." 
 
 Ealfe turned away. In a moment he faced around, 
 and said, "It shall not. You were quite right in con 
 sidering it none of your business. You knew your 
 place, and have again won my respect. The guests of 
 this house must be sacred from the tongue of gossip. 
 But I also thank you for your honesty in answering 
 when questioned. I shall not forget it, James, you 
 may go." 
 
 ( And so/ said Ralfe to himself, as he took the letter
 
 274 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 from his pocket, and with a lip of scorn, tore it into 
 tiny fragments, " this letter, which in surprise and tears, 
 Sybil Visonti swore she had never seen nor even ever so 
 much as heard about, was in her possession at that very 
 moment. Stolen by her to further her vile ends ! 
 
 Long is the way, 
 And hard, that out of hell leads up to light. 
 
 But I stand in God s sunshine at last ! The whole is as 
 clear as day."
 
 MADAME MENSIIIKOFF S KETUKN 275 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 CONDEMNED. 
 
 " For murder, though it have no tongue, 
 Will speak with most miraculous organ." 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 " HE did not appear ! " was Madame Menshikoff s first 
 exclamation, as she entered the drawing-room that even 
 ing, whither Signer Zante had driven her immediately 
 from the depot. " We waited until six o clock, and the 
 heir did not come to claim his rights." 
 
 Helen helped her to take off her fur-lined mantle, 
 while Sardia carefully closed the doors. Ralfe, having 
 given her a great chair, replied, " He is not here, at any 
 rate." 
 
 " Of course you all know " The princess hesitated. 
 " You have told them the whole story, signer ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course. We have been awaiting your arrival 
 with the utmost anxiety." 
 
 " And Sybil is very sick, delirious ? " 
 
 " The physicians are puzzled," said Helen. " She 
 seems to have no great fever, yet does not recover her 
 senses. She is gradually becoming more violent. They 
 talk of acute mania." 
 
 "What has done this ?" exclaimed Madame Menshi- 
 koff in tones of intense surprise. 
 
 " That is it ! What can have done it ? She was as 
 sane as possible Monday evening," echoed Signor Zante. 
 
 "I have told you of our interview," answered Helen 
 in a low, troubled voice, " I fear I arn the cause."
 
 276 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " You ! " they all exclaimed. 
 
 "Oh, the cause lies deep. It is something more than 
 even her knowledge that Julian Visonti is at once her 
 adopted brother and the father of little Ralfe," said the 
 princess. " But let me tell you. When I boarded the 
 train, your man James came in accompanied by a woman. 
 In a moment I saw it was my maid, Dantin. At once I 
 compelled her to sit beside me and give me the history 
 of her life from the moment she stole away from me, 
 three or four years ago. It was as I had imagined. She 
 had taken charge of Miss Visonti s child, and had now, 
 in terror of some one, crossed the ocean to place him in 
 his mother s hands. I made her describe the man who 
 followed her, and came to the conclusion that it was the 
 recreant Julian. I took her with me and ordered James 
 to return to you, as I knew you would understand and 
 pardon such an action when Signor Zante had made you 
 acquainted with the truth. We went to the office of the 
 lawyer who has always had charge of the Yisonti 
 estates. He had always known my claims, as I had been 
 quietly introduced to him by his clients for that purpose." 
 
 " Why, have you ever visited America before ? " ex 
 claimed Ealfe in surprise. 
 
 " Secretly, yes. Of course you did not know it ! Well, 
 we expected to see the door open at any moment and Julian 
 Visonti come in. The will all the documents were on 
 the table. The hour set was noon. You cannot imagine 
 the suspense of the last few moments ! At ten minutes 
 to twelve, I thought out the history of the whole matter. 
 At nine minutes, I foresaw what woirld happen if he 
 came ! At eight, I foresaw all the consequences if he 
 did not come. At seven, I went over the whole method 
 of becoming an adept. At six, a window in another 
 room was suddenly shut, and I went through the feeling 
 of an earthquake. At five, I truly began to tremble. I
 
 A SPIRIT VOICE 277 
 
 cannot tell why. I was not calm as usual. I felt a 
 strange chill in the air. All these interminable minutes, 
 in which I had lived lives, seemed concentrated into a 
 palpable, horrible sense of the unnatural, the uncanny, 
 the weird. At the third minute before twelve, I sud 
 denly became conscious of a strong pressure on my 
 shoulder and a breath in my ear. I concentrated my 
 whole will on my hearing, and at the last moment, just 
 while the clock was whirring to strike, I heard a voice 
 say as plainly as my voice now: I shall not come. 
 Good-by. " 
 
 The absolute silence which had reigned during this 
 narrative was painfully continued. 
 
 " Let us give him a few hours lee-way, I proposed," 
 continued Madame Menshikoff. "They agreed. And 
 we sat there six mortal hours. When the clock struck 
 six, the gentleman handed me a check for an amount 
 which wholly covered all my loss in the jewels, and 
 then formally announced to me, as the oldest and best 
 friend of the family, that Sybil Visonti was now sole 
 heir to the estate, which would amount to nearly three- 
 quarters of a million of money. They then said that 
 immediately on her return from Europe, she had told 
 them of the birth of an illegitimate child, and had then 
 caused them to draw up the papers for the legal adop 
 tion of her own boy. After that, she had made her will, 
 leaving everything of which she died possessed to her 
 son, and bestowing on him the name of Ealfe Visonti. 
 The child, then, is the heir of all my poor old friends 
 had gained. But, nevertheless, he is their grandchild, 
 if not in law, by the still stronger tie of blood." 
 
 " But where can Visonti be ? Why did he fail to 
 appear ? He certainly had crossed the ocean for that 
 purpose," cried Signer Zante. 
 
 " I have made the most careful inquiries," said Kalfe,
 
 278 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 "and I am certain that he was in this town on Monday. 
 He came to the Argyle, registered his name, left a 
 small satchel in his room, and went out of the house 
 almost as soon as he entered it. He dined early, at 
 about three o clock, and then sauntered out. At seven, 
 he was in the billiard-room for a few moments, and light 
 ing a cigar, went up the avenue. That is the end of my 
 information. No one has heard of or seen him since. 
 Of course he went to New York on an evening train. 
 But why he did not pay his bill and take his satchel, I 
 do not know." 
 
 "I conjecture," said Sardia, "that he intended to 
 return at once. He had ascertained that Miss Yisonti 
 was here, had found out that Dantin had taken the boy 
 directly to this house, and, confident that they would not 
 disappear before he could come back from Xew York, 
 after claiming his property, he decided to leave at once, 
 and return to either offer marriage to Sybil, or to demand 
 the custody of his son." 
 
 " But if he went to New York, why did he not come 
 and claim the estate ? " again asked Madame Menshi- 
 koff. 
 
 " It is inexplicable," murmured Ralfe. " I cannot see 
 any reason why he should not." 
 
 "He may have been arrested," suddenly remarked 
 Signor Zante. "Who knows if he may not be a crimi 
 nal ? A detective may have followed him even from 
 Europe. He may even not have left here at all, but is 
 in hiding, having caught sight of some one whom he 
 feared. Such a man is capable of anything, and it may 
 have been God s will that at the very moment when he 
 may have been entering the door to announce himself, 
 the hand of the law grasped him and led him away. 
 There are many things that may have detained him. 
 Perhaps, on the whole, it is a thousand times better that
 
 THE DOCTOR S DILEMMA 279 
 
 he never can touch a penny of the money earned by the 
 parents he dishonored and deserted." 
 
 " In any case, he is too late now," said the princess 
 with a grave smile. "But I shall never forget that 
 voice. It was that of a spirit." 
 
 " Let us go to dinner," said Helen. "You must be 
 tired and hungry." 
 
 " I am," answered madame. 
 
 Ralfe started as if from a dream. " If he is alive, he 
 shall marry her ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 "We all agree with you," answered Signor Zante 
 soothingly. " We all agree with you, rest assured." 
 
 At that moment a knock was heard, and one of the 
 physicians entered. "Excuse me for intruding," he 
 said, " but I am in real trouble. One of the nurses was 
 called to the death-bed of her mother this afternoon, 
 and I am at this moment called to a most urgent case. 
 The other nurse is absolutely fainting with fatigue. 
 She has not been relieved since very early this morning. 
 I wish her to rest for half an hour, at least, and I have 
 no one to stay with Miss Visonti until another woman, 
 for whom I have telephoned, can arrive. Have you any 
 trustworthy servant, madam, who could remain in the 
 room for a short time ? One who will be silent, and 
 who will not repeat what she may hear Miss Visonti 
 say ? " 
 
 "Our women are all young," said Helen, hesitating. 
 " I will go myself." 
 
 " I will accompany you," said Madame Menshikoff. 
 
 " Oh, thanks, ladies, nothing could be better ! Miss 
 Visonti is now asleep. She drops into short naps, and 
 then awakens, sometimes calm and sometimes talking 
 very strangely. But I think there is no fear for a 
 short time." And he rushed away without another 
 word.
 
 280 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " Let us go at once/ said Helen. 
 
 "Let us all go," said Madame Menshikoff, in a clear, 
 low tone. " It will do no harm for us each to observe 
 her, and try to solve the secret of her strange condition." 
 
 In a moment the party found themselves in Sybil s 
 great chamber. She was lying on a broad lounge, 
 enveloped in a soft silk dressing-gown which swept the 
 floor in billowy folds. Her hair, knotted high on her 
 head, was fastened with an amber comb, and her hands 
 were devoid of the jewels that usually glittered on her 
 dark little fingers. She was breathing heavily, and 
 constantly moving her head from side to side, while her 
 half-opened eyes gave her an almost frightful expression. 
 They gazed on her with varying emotions, involuntarily 
 falling into a close group, and almost leaning on each 
 other. 
 
 Suddenly she gave a short sharp cry, and sprang to 
 her feet. Kalfe stepped forward to catch her, when she 
 looked him full in the face, and cried, "Are you going 
 to marry me ? " 
 
 He stood as if thunder-struck, and made no reply. 
 
 " If I am not a Visonti, who am I ? " she went on, 
 glaring at him with insane rage. " If I am the mother 
 of your child, are not you the father ? Don t you know 
 the moon is looking at us both, and can witness that you 
 wronged me ? Julian, beware ! " 
 
 Ralfe stepped forward to utter some soothing word, 
 when she assumed the curved, crouching position of a 
 wild beast making ready to spring. " Julian, will you 
 marry me ? " she cried again in a terrible voice. And 
 then, as if listening to an exasperating reply, she sud 
 denly tore the comb from her hair, and would have 
 struck him on the breast, had Sardia not grasped her 
 arm. " Die, fool, and tell no tales," she muttered, look 
 ing at the floor, and bending down to gaze upon it.
 
 SELF-ACCUSED 281 
 
 "Sink deep, and be quiet. I cannot hear anything. 
 Ah, ha ! you moon, you wicked murderous moon. Now 
 aren t you happy ? Now haven t I pleased you, Moon- 
 Devil ? " and she flung herself back on the lounge, 
 shaking with maniacal laughter, and subsiding into a 
 low moaning. 
 
 They had all listened to her with unspeakable, fascin 
 ated horror. In the minds of each, sentence by sen 
 tence, dawned and grew the same thought. A chill 
 seemed to settle down upon them, their faces becoming 
 drawn and white with emotion. 
 
 " She has killed him," breathed the princess in a 
 whisper of intense awe. 
 
 And not one but re-echoed, in their soul of souls, the 
 terrible words of condemnation. 
 
 Ealfe felt Helen lean more and more heavily on his 
 side, and looking down, found she was falling in a dead 
 faint.
 
 282 SAKDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 UNITED. 
 
 " I said to the rose, The brief night goes 
 
 In babble and revel and wine, 
 O young lord-lover, what sighs are those 
 
 For one that will never be thine ? 
 But mine, but mine, so I swear to the rose, 
 Forever and ever, mine. 
 
 For a breeze of morning moves, 
 
 And the planet of Love is on high, 
 Beginning to faint in the light that she loves, 
 
 On a bed of daffodil sky, 
 To faint in the light of the sun she loves, 
 
 To faint in his light and to die." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 WHEN Helen awoke to consciousness, she found her 
 self in her husband s arms. He was holding her gently 
 against his breast, and her head rested upon his shoul 
 der. His eyes were looking into hers with an expression 
 of unutterable love, a devotion which was more expres 
 sive than she had ever seen arise in any human counte 
 nance. 
 
 For some time she reclined there, passively trying to 
 realize what it was that had brought her to such weak 
 ness, such helplessness. But a delicious rest and com 
 fort, a sense of infinite content, soothed her into a 
 moveless silence. Kalfe finally changed his position, 
 and said quietly, while a slight tinge of amusement 
 crept into his voice, " This is an odd situation for two 
 comrades ? "
 
 PLEADING 283 
 
 Helen started and withdrew herself, leaning back on 
 the couch. 
 
 He had carried her into her own room, and carefully 
 closed the door. A few simple remedies had revived her 
 clouded senses. Now he drew an ottoman beside her, 
 and added, " But we have grown to be something more, 
 have we not ? " 
 
 She flushed slightly, and turned her head away. 
 
 Then with a voice trembling with emotion, her hus 
 band caught her hand. "My dearest," he murmured, 
 "tell me, tell me if we have not grown to be more? 
 Can your heart deny its sweet discovery, when mine 
 glories in it, and feels the ecstasy of heaven ? Oh, say, 
 say the words, the precious, beautiful words which I 
 crave to hear as a thirsty man craves a draught of cool 
 spring water ! Be generous ! Do not deny me, even 
 although you know so well that I deserve nothing, 
 worse than nothing, from you ! I am at your feet 
 in all humility, my Helen. I acknowledge all the stu 
 pidity and wickedness and darkness of the past. The 
 light came into my world, and I was blind to it. I had 
 eyes that saw not, ears that heard not, a heart that 
 responded not, for my senses were steeped in a witch s 
 glamour, my will was crushed beneath a siren s foot. 
 But now, blessed woman, I am awake. I see, I hear, I 
 feel, and the rich vision of the spirit seeks reality in 
 you." 
 
 "With slow, persuaded motion his wife had again 
 turned toward him until her face, fair with an inner 
 loveliness which seemed to shine through every feature, 
 looked sweetly in his own. 
 
 " Let me woo and win you," he went on, gathering her 
 hands close against his breast, and dropping kisses on 
 them, " let me show you that this late love, coming 
 after so strange a passion, is.no dishonor; but a royal
 
 284 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 tribute of awakened manhood to the queen of woman 
 hood, an outburst into bloom of all the finer issues of 
 life which had been saved and concentrated in their 
 essence, even amidst the soil of earthly passion. Let 
 me give you my whole long life of earnest endeavor, not 
 to atone, for you would not subject me to punishment, 
 but to improve and progress under the lovely influence 
 of a genuine affection. Helen, be my wife. Give me 
 the assurance of your confidence." 
 
 " The moment that you told me that I could securely 
 trust you, thrust away the last barrier, Ralfe," said she. 
 " There has been no moment since you first came into 
 my presence that I have not loved you. My love seemed 
 hopeless ; but I did not try to quench its flame. It was 
 beautiful and holy, because it was true and right, and, 
 dearest, now that for the first time you claim it, take 
 it, take it with all my being, all I am " 
 
 With tears in their mutual eyes, but unspeakable joy 
 in both their hearts, their first fond kiss was given and 
 taken. 
 
 Kiss of the union of man and woman, the mating for 
 all eternity of wedded spirits. Kiss of the harmony 
 of all that is natural and all that is supernal in the 
 history of human existence. A vision of some brighter 
 sphere, some heavenly paradise of promise, hangs over 
 the joining of two such beings, and the chrism of God s 
 purpose toward His children crowns the marriage of two 
 such souls. 
 
 It was amazing to both Helen and Kalfe when they 
 thought of it afterwards, how freely and eagerly and 
 earnestly they had conversed, when once their tenderer 
 mood had passed. Each poured forth to the other the 
 whole hidden history of the past few months. Their 
 reserve was forever broken toward each other, even as
 
 FAITH AND JOY 285 
 
 the ice in a great river under the warm and the glow 
 of a golden sun, parts, breaks and sweeps down the cur 
 rent, leaving a wide, free passage for every passing 
 thing that floats toward a boundless sea. They talked 
 as if they had been old friends, just met after a long 
 and painful absence. They revealed to each other every 
 trifling point which had either puzzled, pleased or pained 
 them. They rushed through the strange incidents of 
 the Visonti s sojourn with mutual surprises, explana 
 tions and interpretations, until not a foible or freak 
 of hers remained, that they had not canvassed and 
 understood. Even the general chatter of the place took 
 on a new and absorbing interest, for now they saw 
 things not apart, and from different standpoints or 
 with divided opinions, but from a partnership of feel 
 ing and a companionship of thought. 
 
 The fascination of thus rediscovering each other, the 
 magic transformation of motives and meanings, now 
 that with absolute frankness they confessed their inner 
 secrets, was almost maddening in its delicious and grow 
 ing sense of mutual possession, unchecked, unlimited. 
 It was a drama of delight which held them enthralled 
 in each other s presence until gray day began to dawn, 
 and a warning streak of rose told them that another 
 morrow had arisen. 
 
 " Come ! " said Ralfe, drawing his beloved one to the 
 open window, " Come and look out upon our new world. 
 See ! over the mist of the ocean and the darkness of 
 the night, rises the sun of life and beauty, the glory 
 of a new day. So, dear wife, over the mist and dark 
 ness that has so long kept us moving strangely apart, 
 yet ever truly seeking each other, rises the sun of 
 love and righteousness, to make for us a new existence 
 of faith and sacred joy. Oh, Helen ! here in the early 
 dawn of our sweet union, promise to be gentle with me.
 
 286 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 I am not as noble and pure as you are, but I will be 
 as worthy as I may." 
 
 While she, leaning on his arm and looking with 
 perfect tenderness into his face answered, "My hus 
 band has my whole respect. I honor him above all 
 men. He is my king. He has no faults in my eyes. 
 I have given him all I have, and I trust him with my 
 whole happiness now and forever."
 
 LONESOME ! 287 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 ALMOST A TRAGEDY. 
 
 " Where peace 
 
 And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, 
 That comes to all!" 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 SEVERAL days passed with little to excite apprehension 
 in the patient. The physicians had reported that she 
 had become quite lucid, but was astonishingly weak. 
 
 Although answering questions rationally, Miss Visonti 
 had made no conversation with her attendants until 
 one afternoon, when she began to beg to see some one 
 she knew. " I am so lonesome, shut up here," she 
 pleaded. "I feel quite strong enough to go down to 
 dinner. Do let me go down and see Helen, doctor ! I 
 am sure I am quite well enough. I shall die up here, 
 shut away from everybody." 
 
 Although her physicians feared it would be a danger 
 ous experiment, thinking that any excitement might 
 send her quite back to her strange delirium, she begged 
 so passionately that they finally spoke of her request to 
 Ralfe and Helen. She instantly gave her consent. Her 
 pity overcame any abhorrence she may have felt, and her 
 generous desire to do anything whatever which might 
 aid in restoring her to strength and reason, actuated 
 a quick and eager compliance. 
 
 Ralfe demurred, however. He feared the repetition 
 of a scene, and again, he could not endure the thought 
 that his wife would again be brought into close contact
 
 288 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 with a woman he now felt unworthy to breathe the 
 same clear air. But he gave his consent as soon as he 
 saw a soft, reproachful look glance from Helen s eyes. 
 
 "We will both dine with you if quite convenient," 
 said the colleagues, as they thanked Mrs. Fielding for 
 her kindness. " We can be seated on either side of Miss 
 Visonti, and should she suddenly show the least incli 
 nation to violence or excitement, we can take her away 
 at once. Shall you have guests at dinner, madam ? " 
 
 " None save those who know her quite as well as we. 
 Madame Menshikoff and Signor Zante take a farewell 
 dinner with us, and Sir Sardia, as they sail to-night for 
 India. There will be no one else." 
 
 " We will have her nurses in the hall, so that should 
 there be the least disturbance, if all the party will 
 remain perfectly quiet, we will not permit it to last a 
 moment." 
 
 " How pitiful, how horrible ! " said Helen when they 
 had gone. " This brilliant, beautiful woman to be guarded 
 as if she were a wild beast ! Who could have dreamed 
 a fortnight ago that we should fear to be alone with our 
 most fascinating and charming guest ? Ralfe, when I 
 think of this amazing change in so short a time, I 
 believe it is only the climax of a long series of causes. 
 How she seems to hate the moon ! Her women say she 
 seems to fear and hate the moon as if it were alive. 
 They have been obliged to close the shutters and hang 
 heavy curtains over the windows the last two nights. 
 To-night it will be full. I hope nothing will happen." 
 
 "Well, dearest, if there does we must keep perfectly 
 calm, and not add to any noise by so much as a word. 
 I am assured that however rational she may be at times, 
 she will never fully recover. Her memories will ever 
 goad her to madness." 
 
 Helen shuddered and walked slowly out into the
 
 COURTESY 289 
 
 garden, turning her face up to the sunny sky, as if 
 drinking in its assurance and comfort. 
 
 When they had all assembled in the drawing-room, 
 Sybil came slowly down the stairs, escorted most cava 
 lierly by the two gentlemen, who were chatting with her 
 with all the nonchalance of old friends. 
 
 "We have persuaded Miss Visonti to come down, so 
 as to give you a little surprise," they said. " Come, con 
 gratulate us. Have we not quelled the fever quickly ? 
 And does she show illness in the least ? " 
 
 All surrounded her with smiles and welcoming speeches. 
 
 "How nice,"*said Signor Zante kindly, "that we really 
 have a chance to say our good-bys in person ! Had that 
 envious disease kept you a prisoner we should have been 
 desolated." 
 
 She received their compliments and courtesies with her 
 usual languid grace, answering with the half-bantering, 
 half-cynical speeches which distinguished her conversa 
 tion, and was seated so quickly at table that she took no 
 note that her physicians were beside her. Flattered and 
 delighted that she seemed to be the centre of attraction, 
 she flushed with pleasure, and her melancholy speedily 
 yielded to the gay chaff with which she was constantly 
 assailed. Through cpurse after course of delicious 
 dishes the repartee was kept up, and the laughter which 
 rippled out of the broad windows made it seem once 
 more as if the summer guests were making merry. 
 Coffee was at last finished, and Sardia strolled out on to 
 a broad piazza, lifted several feet from the stone walk 
 which encircled it, and edged by a fancy balustrade on 
 which he lightly leaned. The others following, leaned 
 or seated themselves in a group and would have contin 
 ued conversing while the gentlemen smoked, had it not 
 been for little Ralfe, who, according to his royal rights, 
 ran in to claim a pocketful of nuts and a bunch of grapes
 
 290 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 from dessert. He had become, in all these quiet days, a 
 source of pleasure to every inmate. Sweet-tempered, 
 jolly, and beautiful as a dream, he had made friends of 
 every one and already asserted himself as the privileged 
 darling of the household. To Ralfe he had always paid 
 the compliment of his outspoken preference. He fol 
 lowed him about and persisted in making himself agree 
 able in such a delightful baby way that he had Avon a 
 place in his heart deeper than either knew. 
 
 Helen, however, was to him a "mamma." All his 
 baby trials and troubles were soothed by her, all his par 
 ticular wishes were made known to her in softest confi 
 dence. It was to her he ran when hot and tired, and 
 into her arms he crept when sleepy and cross. The 
 little fellow had begun to form a chain of strange, 
 thoughtful tenderness between husband and wife. Even 
 from the_ first, and now, they seemed to feel in him a 
 wonderful link that had been the means of bringing 
 them closer to each other in mutual charity. 
 
 At the first sound of the childish voice Helen became 
 pale with apprehension. She had given strict orders to 
 have the little one kept in the nursery. Of course she 
 was well aware that the sight of her child might awaken 
 in Miss Visonti intolerable emotions. How had he 
 escaped ? Before she could make a step forward from 
 the balustrade on which she was half-sitting, half-lean 
 ing, with a gay laugh the boy danced through the long 
 window and sprang up to be taken, and she involunta 
 rily lifted his feet so that he stood on the edge. 
 
 "Mamma," he cried, "nuts, nuts, mamma!" and 
 flung his chubby arm across her shoulder. But before 
 she could clasp him, with a fierce cry, sharp and sudden 
 as some frenzied tiger, Miss Yisonti leaped forward and 
 struck her a violent blow, at the same time trying to 
 tear him away. But it was too late. He had stood so
 
 HOPELESS ! 291 
 
 unsteadily that letting go his hold, he fell to the stone 
 walk below, and lay there stunned and white, his face 
 silvered into snow by the moon which beamed upon him 
 in fullest radiance. Sybil cried out with exultation, 
 leaning over and looking down on him with wild 
 laughter. 
 
 "Oh, at last, at last I have you!" she cried. "Dead, 
 dead on the earth and never to rise again ! You round, 
 white face that has stared and stared at me all my life ! 
 You haunting, hideous, mocking moon that has followed 
 me so ! Now I ve dragged you down. Now I ve got 
 you in my power. Lie there, you white-faced devil. 
 I m glad I ve killed you too, you spy, you watcher!" 
 
 The scene had been so totally unexpected, that even 
 the alert physicians were taken aback, but in the midst 
 of scornful, derisive laughter they led her away between 
 them, and in a moment the house was again still. Sardia 
 had leaped over the balcony and taken up the little lad, 
 who made no sign nor motion, while Ralfe escorted 
 Helen around to the front hall, where, in spite of the 
 pain in her shoulder caused by the thrust Sybil had 
 given her, she insisted upon carrying him at once to the 
 nursery, where one of the doctors almost instantly 
 joined her. Comment by her guests was needless. 
 They had all understood the natural fury that arose in 
 Sybil s soul at the sight of her son in Helen s arms, and 
 while they deplored the inapropos appearance of the 
 child at that moment, they were but confirmed in the 
 opinion that Sybil Visonti was hopelessly insane.
 
 292 SAKDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE CROWN AND CROSS. 
 
 O love, what better proof have I for thee 
 
 Than this : that I can put thy love aside, 
 
 And seeing plainly all that is to be; 
 
 How time and space shall make the gulf so wide 
 
 That even this perfect hour thou mayst forget, 
 
 Or growing weary, turn to other things; 
 
 Still can I praise the Lord that we have met. 
 
 Gathering the strength renunciation brings, 
 
 With sense of finer ends, my life shall roll 
 
 In sweeping currents of the tenderest faith 
 
 Till it shall join those calm waves of the soul 
 
 That break upon the silent shore of death. 
 
 Then, having gained our freedom, should we meet, 
 
 Thy heart shall know how I have loved thee, sweet. 
 
 C. L. D. 
 
 HELEN remained in the nursery more than two hours. 
 It seemed impossible to calm the little fellow, who, 
 after being restored to consciousness, complained of head 
 ache and nausea. But soothing him sweetly on her faith 
 ful breast and singing him soft little lullaby songs, re 
 membered from her childhood, she finally had the grati 
 fication of seeing him lie in his crib-bed, his cheeks once 
 more delicately rose-shaded and his face moist with the 
 fresh dew of slumbering content. When she came down 
 the stairs, she felt the strain of that terrible incident 
 tell upon her strength, and her steps were slow and un 
 steady, as she clung to the balustrade, not trusting her 
 self to put down one foot after another from step to 
 step, but both feet on each stair, after a little rest. It
 
 THE LIGHT OF HIS SPIRIT 293 
 
 took her some time to go down, and she stopped on the 
 broad landing in the middle, her heart sinking into ner 
 vous dread. The house was absolutely still, and now 
 she noted, brilliantly lighted. From the three doors 
 opening into the hall from drawing-room, library, and 
 reception-room, came a great stream of light, as if every 
 chandelier was fully blazing. The nursery, situated in 
 the wing, had been closed to prevent the least disturb 
 ance of the child, and she had heard no guests arrive. 
 What could it mean ? 
 
 She gave a little exclamation, as she gazed around, 
 when instantly Sardia drew aside a portiere and looked 
 up. Standing in the brilliant light, his face turned to 
 hers with an almost seraphic smile, his grand beauty 
 held her gaze in admiration. The strength and sweet 
 ness and light of his spirit beamed upon her with a 
 visible good will, as if she had come to her best wish 
 realized at last, out of great tribulation. He came up 
 the steps remaining, and supporting her with an arm 
 at once tender and vivifying, led her into the drawing- 
 room and seated her by a little table, on which was 
 spread a delicate repast a bit of salad, a slice of 
 dainty bread, an olive, a bunch of grapes, and some 
 rich wine which sparkled in its decanter like a topaz. 
 
 " Refresh yourself," said he gently, " let me see you 
 eat." Yielding to his tender command she ate and 
 drank, almost heartily, with a feeling of growing satis 
 faction and relief. "You ate nothing at dinner, I no 
 ticed," he said, "and I was sure in all this time you 
 would be hungry." 
 
 " Why, yes," she replied, glancing at the clock, " it is 
 ten. I had no idea of it. Where is every one ? " 
 
 "The princess and Signor Zante have gone down to 
 the yacht, and Ralfe went with them. Everything was 
 packed and on board this afternoon, and I will join
 
 294 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 them there. There are still two hours before we 
 sail." 
 
 Helen leaned back with a deep sigh, looking at him 
 with an expression of sorrow which thrilled him with 
 its intensity. 
 
 "She will miss me," he thought, "she will miss me. 
 Come, dear," he said aloud, " I am going to take you on 
 a pilgrimage. I am going to show you a sweet home, in 
 which a sweet woman may live a happy life." And 
 drawing her from her chair, he again put his kind arm 
 about her and began to walk along. " This, dear heart," 
 he said, "is the drawing-room, and this the smoking- 
 room, and this the dining-room," as they went along into 
 each. " Here is the music-room, this is the breakfast- 
 room," and so on, through all the spacious and beautiful 
 apartments of the lower floor. Then, mounting the 
 stairs, he opened the doors of two or three chambers. 
 Every room was in perfect order, lighted brilliantly and 
 garnished with flowers. Helen said not a word. She 
 looked at Sardia in a sort of maze, as if she believed 
 him bewitched, yet leaned on him with a trustful antici 
 pation of his meaning which she knew would be given 
 her in the end. He now flung wide the door of Ralfe s 
 apartment. "This is your room," he said. 
 
 "No, no, Ralfe s," she answered, hanging back a 
 little, but in the full glare from the gas, both caught 
 sight of a ripple of soft silk and laces carelessly flung 
 across a chair, and on the toilet-table a jewel and rib 
 bon which unmistakably proclaimed a woman s presence. 
 He pressed her hand with a warm strong pressure, and 
 said again, 
 
 "This is your room," while a clear, modest blush 
 spread sweetly over her fair forehead, as she dropped 
 her meek eyes. Sardia led her along, still opening doors 
 to show fresh bright rooms where her happy guests had
 
 MISS VISONTI IS GONE 295 
 
 so enjoyed her hospitality, and then paused before that 
 of Sybil Visonti. 
 
 "No, no," gasped Helen, "don t, Sardia, don t. I 
 cannot see her. I can never see her again. Please 
 don t make me go in there. I fear her. I shudder at 
 her." 
 
 For answer, he flung wide the door. The room was 
 not lighted, save by the full moon, which streamed in 
 silvery radiance through the open casements, which 
 formed nearly one side of the delightful chamber. The 
 bed, no longer tossed with the rich crimson hangings 
 and covers of satin which pleased the Visonti, was made 
 up in its cream white laces and looked like the couch of 
 a maiden bride. On the table, a great bunch of migno 
 nette, a flower beloved by Helen, and detested by Sybil, 
 sent out its delicate fragrance. Not a trace, not a sign 
 or token of Miss Visonti remained. Sardia turned up 
 the gas and said smiling, 
 
 "Look in the closet, dear. There is no skeleton 
 there," and timidly Helen peeped in, to find it stripped 
 and empty, not so much as a veil remaining to remind 
 her of her whom she almost feared would leap upon her 
 again from its recesses. " Listen," said he. 
 
 The servants, who had been ordered to keep as silent 
 as possible during Miss Visonti s illness, had collected 
 on the laundry steps, not far from this part of the house, 
 and were singing a jolly tune in chorus, laughing and 
 chatting and " fooling " as servants will, when free to 
 do so. 
 
 " She has gone ! " exclaimed Helen, looking about with 
 an air of one who has received a gift of unexpected 
 value. " She has gone." 
 
 " Yes," replied Sardia, " you will never see her again. 
 Come, let us go and sit in the moonlight, and I will tell 
 you about it."
 
 296 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 On the little balcony where so many happy talks had 
 almost made its stones historic to the inmates of Spray 
 View, seated at her feet, Sardia told her how, when she 
 had gone to the nursery with the boy, Dr. Davis had 
 immediately requested Ralfe to send the close carriage 
 around to the door. 
 
 " The young woman cannot remain in a private house 
 another hour, said he. She is a maniac, dangerous, and 
 I believe, incurable. I will drive her at once to 
 Dr. Spiers private asylum, where the very best care 
 will be given her, but where she will be properly re 
 strained. 
 
 "The nurse and he accompanied her, and in fifteen 
 minutes they were gone. Ralfe and I then ordered 
 Jeanette to pack and the other servants to put the house 
 into the perfect order you have seen it, and then Ralfe 
 himself left it to me to tell you, and to bid you good- 
 by. He felt that you would not be able, as proposed, 
 to go down to the Uarda when we sailed, so he took 
 all your messages for you, and will bring back their 
 farewells. Is the little boy all right ? " 
 
 " Yes, he was only stunned. We shall keep him always, 
 Sardia." 
 
 " Ralfe said so," he answered quietly. 
 
 Helen sat in silence a few moments, bending over 
 Sardia, and caressingly moving her hand over his 
 curls, looking down into his face with the gentle 
 tears dropping on her hand, and once even on his 
 cheek. She stooped to brush it off, but he stayed her 
 hand. 
 
 " No, dearest, it is precious. Let me wear it." 
 
 " They are tears of joy and sorrow mingled," she mur 
 mured. " Who ever had a friend like you ? What 
 woman has ever known a love and loyalty like yours ? 
 Sardia, I am to lose you. Ralfe is to lose you. Can we
 
 THE KISS 297 
 
 bear it ? But yes, to ask you to stay would be too much. 
 Oh, believe me, you do not go alone. In those far lands 
 when on some lonely night, you stand with longing eyes 
 turned westward, believe me, you will then be not alone. 
 My heart has been bound to yours by bonds that no time 
 nor space can alter. I shall surround you with my 
 prayers, I shall enter into your work, I shall aspire with 
 you, suffer with you, wait with you, until that hour when 
 all shall meet as the angels do, in an ineffable union 
 which is bound by no conventions, prevented by no ties. 
 If you have given me my soul s desire, if you have given 
 me to rest in peace upon the heart I love, you have won 
 from me for yourself a feeling indescribable, but not 
 of earth. Be blest by it, Sardia, even to the end of your 
 whole life." 
 
 " My saint," he murmured, as they both rose, and 
 moved by one impulse, drew together. Their lips met 
 in one long kiss, a kiss which pressed by lips so pure on 
 lips so brave and true, is the seal of eternal chivalry and 
 honor among men ; the sign of perennial righteousness 
 and faith among women, while human hearts shall abne 
 gate themselves and human souls shall burn with grate 
 ful love. With one more strong clasp of her clinging 
 hands, one more look into her sad face, Sardia smiled 
 cheerfully and sweetly. "It will not be many years," 
 said he, " Life flies swiftly," and walked away. 
 
 She watched him until he turned into the path that 
 would lead him out of sight. Then he paused and taking 
 off his hat, stood and looked back at her for a full min 
 ute. Then with one grand gesture of farewell, he dis 
 appeared. She sat hiding her face in her arms, for a 
 long time, thinking over the events of this strange, sad, 
 sweet summer, and seeing everywhere Sardia s quiet, 
 perfect devotion. She was awakened by Ealfe s voice, 
 whose gentle cadence broke her reverie.
 
 298 SARDIA: A STORY OF LOVE 
 
 " Dear wife," he said, lingering on the word as if in 
 love with it, "I have come to bring you the last message 
 from our friends. The princess, when I left her, was 
 rolling a cigarette as comfortably as if she were merely 
 bound on a trip across the bay. Her cabin is a dream 
 of luxury. Satan was lying asleep at her feet. Signor 
 Zante is in a hammock on deck, his face serene and filled 
 with a grave sweet joy. He believes they will do 
 wonders in lifting the poor natives out of their misery. 
 As I hurried back, I met Sardia. He was walking slowly, 
 his hat off, and the wind blowing his hair in a sort of 
 halo about his head. It looked golden in the moonlight, 
 I could not help noticing it. When I came up to him, 
 he looked at me long and steadily. Yes, I can trust 
 you/ he said, and then he uttered slowly, We have 
 kissed each other. And do you know, Helen, I put my 
 arms right around his neck, then, and we kissed each 
 other too. He then gave me a little box, and said, 
 Here is a jewel that I wish Helen would always wear, 
 in remembrance of me, if you are willing. Are you quite 
 willing ? Will you take it to her ? I told him, Yes, 
 I am more than willing. Whenever I see her wear it, I 
 shall feel you are near us, my best friend. So then we 
 shook hands, and I have brought it. Let us go into the 
 house and see what it is." 
 
 Leaning gently against her husband, Helen went with 
 him beneath a chandelier, and they opened the packet. 
 On a snowy satin bed, rested a cross of sapphires, encir 
 cled by diamonds white and glittering as some star that 
 studs the northern sky. The fine chain which held it 
 was clasped with another sapphire, so perfect, large and 
 luminous, that its glory seemed to reveal depths ever 
 receding from the eye. Across the back was a little 
 band on which was chased as if in his own handwriting, 
 the one word : Sardia.
 
 PURITY AND TRUTH 299 
 
 Kalfe clasped the royal gift about his wife s neck, 
 where it rose and fell with her true heart beats, and 
 would lie there even when her white bosom was motion 
 less beneath the grasses. 
 
 " Purity and truth," he said, looking at the blue and 
 white, " they are fitly placed. They represent you both. 
 But oh, dear Christ, how have I deserved it ! For me 
 the crown, the cross for Sardia ! " 
 
 THE END.
 
 TROWBRIDGFS 1 1 m r * 
 
 U , NOVELS UNIFORM EDITION 
 
 FARNELL S FOLLY. 
 
 " As a Novel of American Society, tins book has never been surpassed. 
 Hearty in style and wholesome in tone. Its pathos often melting! U 
 tears, its humor always exciting merriment." 
 
 CUDJO S CAVE. 
 
 Like "TTncle Tom s Cabin," this thrilling story was a stimulating 
 power in the civil war, and had an immense sale. Secretary Chase, ot 
 President Lincoln s cabinet, said of it, "I could not help reading it : it 
 interested and impressed me profoundly. 
 
 THE THREE SCOUTS. 
 
 Another popular book of the same stamp, of which " The Boston Traa- 
 script" said, "It promises to have a larger sale than Cudjo s Cave. 
 It is impossible to epen the volume at any page without being struck by 
 the quick movement and pervading anecdote of the story." 
 
 THE DRUMMER BOY. 
 A Story of Burnside s Expedition. Illustrated by F. O. C. BARLEY. 
 
 " The most popular book of the season. It will sell without pushing," 
 Zion s Herald. 
 
 MARTIN MERRIVALE: His X Mark. 
 
 " Strong in humor, pathos, and unabated interest. In none of the booki 
 Issued from the American press can there be found a purer or more deli 
 cate sentiment, a more genuine good taste, or a nicer appreciation and 
 brighter delineation of character." English Journal. 
 
 NEIGHBOR JACKWOOD. 
 
 A story of New-England life in the slave-tracking days. Dramatized 
 for the Boston Museum, it had a long run to crowded houses. The story 
 Is one of Trowbridge s very best. 
 
 COUPON BONDS, and other Stories. 
 
 The leading story is undoubtedly the most popular of Ti ^wbridge s 
 short stories. The others are varied in character, but are either intensely 
 Interesting or " highly amusing." 
 
 NEIGHBORS WIVES. 
 
 Ail ingenious and well-told story. Two neighbors wives are tempted 
 beyond their strength to resist, and steal each from the other. One is 
 discovered in the act, under ludicrous and humiliating circumstances, 
 but .s generously pardoned, with a promise of secrecy. Of course she 
 \.V/"s her secret, and of course perplexities come. It is a capital story 
 
 12mo. Cloth. Price per volume, fl.SO. 
 
 Sold by all booktelters and neirKcleaffru, and sent by maii t postpaid, 
 on receipt of price 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston 
 
 24
 
 DOUGLAS 
 
 A "WOMAN S INHERITANCE. 
 
 " Miss Douglas s Novels are all worth reading, and this is one full of. 
 suggestions, interesting situations, and bright dialogue." Cottage Hearth, 
 
 OUT OF THE WRECK; or, Was it a Victory? 
 " Bright and entertaining as Miss Douglas s stories always are, thia, 
 her new one, leads them all." Xew Bedford Standard. 
 
 FLOYD GRANDON S HONOR. 
 " Fascinating throughout, and worthy of the reputation of the author." 
 
 WHOM KATHIE MARRIED. 
 
 Kathie was the heroine of the popular series of Kathie Stories for 
 foung people, the readers of which were very anxious to know with 
 whom Kathie settled down in life. Hence this story, charmingly written. 
 
 LOST IN A GREAT CITY. 
 
 " There are the power of delineation and robustness of expression that 
 would credit a masculine hand in the present volume. 
 
 THE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE. 
 "The romances of Miss Douglas s creation are all thrillingly interest- 
 Ing." Cambridge Tribune. 
 
 HOPE MILLS ; or, Between Friend and Sweetheart. 
 " Amanda Douglas is one of the favorite authors of American novel. 
 readers." Manchester Mirror. 
 
 FROM HAND TO MOUTH. 
 
 " There is real satisfaction in reading this book, from the fact that w 
 can so readily take it home to ourselves." Portland Argus. 
 
 NELLY KINNARD S KINGDOM. 
 
 " The Hartford Religious Herald " says, " This story is so fascinating, 
 that one can hardly lay it down after taking it up." 
 
 IN TRUST; or, Dr. Bertrand s Household. 
 " She writes in a free, fresh and natural way, and her characters are 
 never overdrawn." Manchester Mirror. 
 
 CLAUDIA. 
 
 " The plot is very dramatic, and the denouement startling. Claudia, the 
 heroine, is one of those self-sacrificing character which it is the glory of 
 the female sex to produce." Boston Journal. 
 STEPHEN DANE. 
 
 "This is one of this author s happiest and most successful attempts at 
 novel-writing, for which a grateful public will applaud her." Herald. 
 
 HOME NOOK; or, The Crown of Duty. 
 
 " An interesting story of home-life, not wanting in incident, and writ 
 ten in forcible and attractive style." New York Graphic. 
 
 SYDNIE ADRIANCE; or, Trying the World. 
 ** The works of Miss Douglas have stood the test of popular judgment" 
 
 SEVEN DAUGHTERS. 
 11 The charm of the story is the perfectly home-like air which pervades it." 
 
 OSBORNF, OF ARROCHAR. 
 "One of the best of Miss Douglas s stories." 
 
 THE FORTUNES OF THE FAR AD ATS 
 
 " Of unexceptionable literary merit, deeply interesting in the develop. 
 ment of the plot." Fall River Neics. 
 
 FOES OF HER HOUSEHOLD 
 
 " Full of interest from the first chapter to the end." 
 
 A MODERN ADAM AND EVE IN A GARDEN 
 
 M It is a good novel, not only for adults, but young folks as well." 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price 
 
 LEE AND SHEPABD Publishers Boston
 
 NARRATIVES 
 
 NOTED 
 
 TRAVELLERS 
 
 GERMANY SEEN WITHOUT SPECTACLES; or, Random 
 Sketches of Various Subjects, Penned from Different Stand 
 points in the Empire 
 By HENRY RUGGLES, late United States Consul at the Island of Malta, and 
 
 at Barcelona, Spain. $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. Ruggles writes briskly: he chats and gossips, slashing right and left 
 with stout American prejudices, and has made withal a most entertaining 
 book. " New- York Tribune. 
 TRAVELS AND OBSERVATIONS IN THE ORIENT, with a 
 
 Hasty Flight in the Countries of Europe 
 By WALTER HARRIMAN (ex-Governor of New Hampshire). $1.50. 
 
 " The author, in his graphic description of these sacred localities, refers 
 with great aptness to scenes and personages which history has made famous. 
 It is a chatty narrative of travel." Concord Monitor. 
 FORE AND AFT 
 A Story of Actual Sea-Life. By ROBERT B. DIXON, M.D. $1.25. 
 
 Travels in Mexico, with vivid descriptions of manners and customs, form a 
 large part of this striking narrative of a fourteen-months voyage. 
 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE 
 A Geographical Journey of Twenty-five Hundred Miles from Quebec to the 
 
 Gulf of Mexico. By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. With numerous illustra 
 tions and maps specially prepared for this work. Crown 8vo. $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. Bishop did a very bold thing, and has described it with a happy 
 mixture of spirit, keen observation, and bonhomie." London Graphic. 
 FOUR MONTHS IN A SNEAK-BOX 
 A Boat Voyage of Twenty-six Hundred Miles down the Ohio and Mississippi 
 
 Rivers, and along the Gulf of Mexico. By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. With 
 
 numerous maps and illustrations. $1.50. 
 
 " His glowing pen-pictures of shanty-boat life on the great rivers are 
 true to life. His descriptions of persons and places are graphic." Z ion s 
 Herald. 
 A THOUSAND MILES WALK ACROSS SOUTH AMERICA, 
 
 Over the Pampas and the Andes 
 By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. Crown 8vo. New edition. Illustrated. $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. Bishop made this journey when a boy of sixteen, has never forgotten 
 it, and tells it in such a way that the reader will always remember it, and 
 wish there had been more." 
 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES 
 Being the Adventures of a Naturalist Bird-hunting in the West-India Islands. 
 
 By FRED A. OBER. New edition. With maps and illustrations. $1.50. 
 
 " During two years he visited mountains, forests, and people, that few, if 
 any, tourists had ever reached before. He carried his camera with him, and 
 photographed from nature the scenes by which the book is illustrated." 
 Louisville Courier-Journal. 
 ENGLAND FROM A BACK WINDOW; With Views of 
 
 Scotland and Ireland 
 By J. M. BAILEY, the " Danbury News Man." i2mo. $1.00. 
 
 " The peculiar humor of this writer is well known. The British Isles have 
 never before been looked at in just the same way, at least, not by any one 
 who has notified us of the fact. .Mr. Bailey s travels possess, accordingly, a 
 value of their own for the reader, no matter how many previous records of 
 journeys in the mother country he may have read." Rochester Express. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price 
 
 XiEE AND SHEFAED Publishers Boston
 
 RIGHT DOCKS OF TRAVEI 
 
 AND J_jr; -. _ 
 
 REEZY - - - - BY SIX BRIGHT WOMEN - - - 
 
 MEXICO PICTURESQUE, POLITICAL, PROGRESSIVE 
 By MARY E. BLAKE and MARGARET K. SULLIVAN. Cloth, $1.25. 
 
 "This is a very charming volume. The writers went through the 
 country with their eyes wide open, and they have the faculty of interest 
 ing others in what was of interest to them." 
 
 A WINTER IN CENTRAL AMERICA AND MEXICO 
 
 By HELEN J SANBORN. Cloth, $1.50. 
 " A bright, attractive narrative by a wide-awake Boston girl." 
 
 A SUMMER IN THE AZORES, with a Glimpse of Madeira 
 
 By Miss C. ALICE BAKER. Little Classic style. Cloth, gilt edges, $1.25. 
 " Miss Baker gives us a breezy, entertaining description of these picturesque 
 
 islands. She is an observing traveller, and makes a graphic picture of the 
 
 juaint people and customs." Chicago Advance, 
 
 LIFE AT PUGET SOUND 
 
 With sketches of travel in Washington Territory, British Columbia, Oregon, 
 and California. By CAROLINE C. LEIGHTON. i6mo, cloth, $1.50. 
 " Your chapters on Puget Sound have charmed me. Full of life, deeply 
 
 interesting, and with just that class of facts, and suggestions of truth, that 
 
 tannot fail to help the Indian and the Chinese." WENDELL PHILLIPS. 
 
 EUROPEAN BREEZES 
 
 ttf MARGERY DEANE. Cloth, gilt top, $1.50. Being chapters of travel 
 through Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Switzerland, covering places not 
 usually visited by Americans in making " the Grand Tour of the Conti 
 nent," by the accomplished writer of " Newport Breezes." 
 " A very bright, fresh and amusing account, which tells us about a host of 
 
 hings we never heard ol before, and is worth two ordinary books of European 
 
 travel." Woman s Journal. 
 
 BEATEN PATHS ; or, A Woman s Vacation in Europe 
 
 By ELLA W. THOMPSON. i6mo, cloth. $1.50. 
 
 A lively and chatty book of travel, with pen-pictures humorous and graphic, 
 that are decidedly out of the " beaten paths " of description. 
 AN AMERICAN GIRL ABROAD 
 By Miss ADELINE TRAFTON, author of " His Inheritance," " Katherine 
 
 Earle," etc. i6mo. Illustrated. $1.50. 
 
 " A sparkling account of a European trip by a wide-awake, intelligent, and 
 Irrepressible American girl. Pictured with a freshness and vivacity that is 
 delightful." Utica Observer. 
 
 CURTIS GUILD S TRAVELS 
 BRITONS AND MUSCOVITES; or, Traits of Two Empires 
 
 Cloth, $2.00. 
 
 OVER THE OCEAN; or, Sights and Scenes in Foreign Lands 
 By CURTIS GUILD, editor of " The Boston Commercial Bulletin Crown 8vo. 
 
 Cloth, $2.50. 
 
 " The utmost that any European tourist can hope to do is to tell the old 
 story in a somewhat fresh way, and Mr. Guild has succeeded in every part f 
 his book in doing this." Philadelphia. Bulletin. 
 ABROAD AGAIN ; or, Fresh Forays in Foreign Fields 
 Uniform with " Over the Ocean." By the same author Crown 8vo. 
 
 Cloth $2.50. 
 
 " He has given us a life-picture. Europe is done in a style that must serve 
 as an invaluable guide to those who go over the ocean, as well as an inter 
 esting companion." Halifax Citizen. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of priet 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000 030 464 2