|Chapter Title||Concluded. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER.|
|Newspaper Title||Evening Journal (Adelaide, SA : 1869 - 1912)|
|Trove Title||The House of White Shadows|
THE HOUSE OF WHITE
SHADOWS. BrRL. FAEJBON, Author ot " Blode-o'-Gny»," "Joshna MarT<\l,'i "ttread and ulieew and Kiaaee," " Uiif," 1 London's Heart," Ac.
f CHAPTER XV.—[Concluded), WOTH1B AND JMOUnTEB.
" I was much diaturbod by what »be said : my thought* took a strange direction, and I seamed to ace many things ia a new light. " ' You remember, Denise,' she said, presently, ' the letter my daughter gave you to Ijoat—the one to M. Gabriel»' " ' Ves, madame ; you took it from me on the road. I hope I did not do wrong.' "• You did right,' bhe Bald. 'It does not matter who poets a letter. You did not tell my daughter 1 took it from you ? "' No, madams." , . . . " ' You are faithful and judicious,' oho Mid, but her praise gave me no pleasure. ' If I had lived I would have reworded you. You must not repeat to my daughter or Mr. Balcombe what I have been saying to you. Promise me.' " I gave her the promise, and then she said that she would give me a message to deliver to her daughter—her last message; bnt she must think of it first, and if she forgot it I was to ask her for it a little while before she died. After that she was quiet, and spoke to no ono. A couple of hours passed, aud I asked the doc tore whether she had long to live. They said she could not live another hour. I then told them that she had asked me to remind her of a message she wished me to give to her daughter, ana whether it was right I should disturb her. Theyaaid that the wishes of the dying should be respected, and that I should try to make her understand that death was very near. I put my face again very close to hers. " ' Can you hear me V I asked. '* 'M ho are you ?' she said. Her words wore but a breath, and I could only understand them by watching the movements of her lips. " * I am Denise.' "' All, yes,' she replied. * Denise, that my daughter is fond of.' ' Y ou wished to give me a message to your daughter.' " ' I don't know what it was. I have done everything for the best, lieatrioe said I might IWc to repent it, but sec how wrong she was,' And presently she said, ' Denise, when my daughter comes home ask her to '^That is all she said ; she did not live tc see the sunrise. "Mr. and Mrs. IJalcombc arrived at the villa before Bhe was buried. It was a shock ing interruption to their honeymoon, and tlieir appcarance showed how much they suffered. It was as if the whole course of their lives bad been turned; tears took the place of smileH, sorrow of joy, and how different was the appearance of tne village. No feast inc. no music ami dancing ; everybody was Btnous and sad. And all within one short mouth. "I gave Mrs. lialcombe her mother': dying message. When Bhe heard the words such a smile cnine upon her lips as I hoped never again to see upon a human fa so bitterly scornful aud despairing. "'It is too late lor forgiveness,'she saiil, and not another word paaBed between us on the subject. " For many days after the funeral the house was very quiet. Mn. Balcombe did not wear mourning for her mother, nor did her husband wish her to do so. I remomber his Baying to her,' With some races white is the emblem of mourning; not for that reason, Beatrice, but because it so well becomes you, I like you best in white.' " "Now, as time went on, we all thought that the sadness which weighed upon Mrs. balcombe's heart, and whicn seemed to put lead into her feet, would naturally pass away, but weeks anil months elapsed, and she remained the Bame. There used to be a colour in her cheeks—it was all gone now ; her face was ob white as milk. Her eyes used to sparkle and brighten, bnt now there was never to be seen any gladness in them, and elie who used to smile so often now smiled no more. She moved about like ono who was walking slowly to her grave. Mr. Balcombe, niore than ever devoted to her, made groat efl'nrts to aiwiBe her, but she met him with coldness, and when he spoko to her she simply answered ' Yes,' or ' No.' Of her own
lji'Oiui'Ung; she 1 addressed him, and Bhe aid iiothiuu whatuv h;ituver to make his liuinc chccrl ul and liajmy. ty. This weighed upon his spirits, a9 it would upon the spirits of any man, and during thosj times l often saw him gazing upon her from a distanco, when bile was waiting in the grounds, with a loolt in his lace which denoted how troubled he w;:s Then, as if some uo)d thought bad suddenly occurred to liim, ho would join her and endeavour to entice her into conversation ; but she answered him only when bIic was compelled,and he became so chilled by her manner that soon he would himself grow silent, 2nd they would pace the uantan round and round for an hour together in the most complete silence. It hurt one to see it. They were never heard to ipiarrcl, aud because the little they said to each other was said in a gentle way made things more oppressive. A storm now and then is natural and uood ; it clears the air, and tile sun always BUines >vhen it is over ; but here a silent storm was brooding which never burst, and the ouly signs of it wore seen in the sad faces of those who were euffciinc, and who did not deserve to suffer. But it could not last for over, and, though I trembled to think of it, I felt it would boa relief if something violent would occur. " Gradually his wife's strange conduct caused Mr. Balcombe to withdraw himself from her society, and he took refuge in his study ajaiu. There, as in times gone by, he lived; for ilsys and weeks, reading, writing, and walking up and down in deep thought. His wifo never intruded herself upon htm ; she never approached him. It was a long while before he entirely gave up his endeavours to win her back to cheerfulness and bappinesB ; but you cannot soften stone with kind words, and be could not melt her heart with them. "Imagine what the house was, Jmy lady, and how wc all felt, who loved our master, and would have loved our lady, too, if she lisd allowed us. Cold as she was to us, we could not help pitvirg her. For my own tiart, I used to think 1 would rather live iu a liutwith a quarrelsome husband who would beat and starve rue than lead such a life as tuy master and mistress were living. "Ouce more, after many, many months had passed in this dreadful way, my master suddenly resolved to make another attempt to alter things for the better, lfe locked up liis study, aud courted his wife witli the Iierscverancc and the love of a lover. It was really so, my lady. He gatlierod posies f jr her, and ploccd them on her deBk and dre=s Lap table ; lie spoUc cheerfully to her, taking no apparent nuti- c of lu-r silence and reserve ; be strove in a thousand little delicate ways X) Ill-ill^ pleasure into her life. 'Wo will ,-ide out to-dnv,' he would sav. ' Very well,' she would answer, lie would assist her into the saddle, and they would ride away, they two alone, ho animated by but one desire-to make her happy: and they would return after some hours, the master with an cxprov e.on of entering in Ins face wl.ieh he would strive in v.im to hide, and she, sad, resigned, and uncomplaining. But that silence of hers! That voice so seldom heard, aud, when heard, so gentle, and soft, and pathotic! i uould rather have been beaten witli an oak stick every day of my life than have been compelled to endure it, as he was compelled. For there was no relief orescapo for him except in the doing of what it was not in his nature to do—to lie downright cruel to her, aud to find another woman to love him. Ho would Lave hail no difficulty in this, had he been so minded, Still he did not relax his efforts to alter things for the better. He bought beautiful booU, ami dogs, and pet animals for her ; lie forgot nothing that ft man could possibly think of. Ho had often spoken to her of inviting friends to the villa, but she never encouraged him. Now, however, ho made up his mind without cousulting her, aud in a short time wc were again overrun with company. She was the mistress of the house, and it would have been sinful in her to have neglocted the duties as Mr. Balcombe's wife. It was chiefly young poodle w ho oamc to the villa, and among them ono day appeared M. Gabriel, tho artist who liamted that picture. A K ;1 C T FIR SAVED FROM TII ! PoouiIOUiE.—For yesrs Oiviil Aillns^wjlth.-uMe re.l witli rljcuiuHism, iti'l notwitlv:Ltii iing tlio lueil'cal flttiMidriiicc,coultl not Qnil telluf. Ho came to tile Scieu County I'm house, and had to be can ied into and '"('Ewd" account ol his helpless t . A/U-'r Uiu failure of all the reuiiHilcs*wiiicli ha.l been applied, the Hires. tors of the Poorhoi:*e re.^olVLil t>> use the culelirated Ofruiau idraeily, St. Jacoli's Oil. and this was a fortun.ito rc::Mnii'»n; f-r. with the trial o( one bottle, tlic patiatit alrr.iiiy ii.'.ter. and when f,)nr bottles Imd iiccn used up n biui lie could a^din walk at»;.i.t nitlmutthe uc.ni<>. Tliefacts.tu almre hUiIl-.I, «i 1 1 1'0 v,-i.!i^l l.y tile alitor of tile p, rtsninutli (Ohio) CVr.Hj.eiufcit. U.S.A. Sold by all chemists. til 1st J. M. Wrmlt, T t., has tlie l>lo Clocks Mhi.il for nualitv imlitv anil t Inli.,1 Mi.l pi in