 Chapter 1 of The Abbot's Ghost This is the LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ellie. The Abbot's Ghost or Marie's Trehearne's Temptation by Louisa May Alcott. Chapter 1, Amartis Personae How goes it, Frank, down first as usual? The early bird gets the warm major. Tuesday, Angeline's speech. Considering that the lovely Octavia is the warm. And with a significant laugh, the major assumed an Englishman's favorite attitude before the fire. His companion shot the quick glance at him, and an expression of anxiety passed over his face, as he replied, with a well-famed air of indifference. You are all together too sharp, Major. I must be on my guard while you are in the house. Any new arrivals? I saw they heard a carriage drive up not long ago. It was General Snowdown and his charming wife. Marie's Trehearne came while we were out, and I have not seen him yet, poor fellow. A, you may well say that. This is a hard case, if what they heard is true. I am not booked up in the matter, and there should be. Lest I make some blunder here, so tell me how things stand, Major. We've got a half hour before dinner, the chess base never puncture. Yes, you have your right to know if you are going to try your fortune with Octavia. The Major marched through the three drawing-homes to see that no inquisitive servant was eavesdropping, and, finding all deserted, he resumed his place, while young Aenon launched in the couch as he listened with intense interest to the Major's story. You know, it was supposed that Old Sir Chesper being a bachelor would leave his fortune to his two nephews, but he was an oddity, and as the title must go to the young Chesper-beried, the old man said Maurice should have the money. He was poor and young Chesper-rich, and it seemed bad just, though Madame Major was very angry when she learned how the will was made. But Maurice didn't get the fortune, how was that? There was some mystery there, which I shall discover in time, all when smoothly tilled at a lucky yachting trip, when the cousins were wrecked. Maurice saved Chesper's life and almost lost his own in so doing. I fancy he wishes he had, rather than remain the poor cripple he is. Exposure, exertion, and neglect afterward brought on paralyzes of the lower limbs, and there he is, a fine-talented, spirited fellow tied to that cursed chair like a decrepit old man. How does he bear it? Asked Aenon as the Major shook his gray head, with a traitorous huskiness in his last words, like a philosopher or a hero. He is too proud to show his despair at such a sudden end, to all his hopes, so generous to complain, for Chesper is desperately cut up about it, and too brave to be done it by misfortune, which would drive any man mad. Is it true that Chesper, knowing all this, made a new will and left every cent to his namesake? Yes, and there lies the mystery. Not only did he leave it away from poor Maurice, but so tied it up that Chesper cannot transfer it, and at his death it goes to Octavia. The old man must have been demented, but in Heaven's name did he mean by leaving Maurice helpless and penniless after all his devotion to Chesper, had he done anything to offend the old party? No one knows. Maurice hasn't the least idea of the cause of this sudden whim, and the old man would give no reason for it. He died soon after, and the instant Chesper came to the title and estate, he brought his cousin home and treats him like a brother, Chesper's a noble fellow, with all his faults, and this act of justice increases my respect for him, said the Major heartily. What will Maurice do? Lordity can't enter the army as he intended, asked Amen, who knows that the act so full of interest was he. Mary Octavia, and come to his own hope. An excellent little arrangement, what mystery heron may object, said Amen, rising with sudden kindling of the eye. I think not, if no one interferes. Pity with women is akin to love, and she pities her cousin in the tenderest fashion. No sister could be more devoted, and as Maurice is a handsome, talented fellow, one can easily foresee the end. If, as I said before, no one interferes to disappoint the poor lad again. You espouse his coarsesy, and tell me this that they may stand aside. Thanks for the warning, Major. But as Maurice Trehearn is a man of unusual power in many ways, I think we are equally matched, in spite of his misfortune. Nay, if anything, he is the advantage of me, for mystery heron pities him. And that is a strong ally for my rival. I'll be as generous as I can, but I will not stand aside and relinquish the woman of love without a trial first. With an air of determination, Amen faced the Major, whose keen eyes had read the truth, which he had but newly confessed to himself. Major Royston smiled as he listened and said briefly, as steps approached, Do your best, Maurice will win. We shall see, returned Amen between his teeth. Here the host entered, and the subject of course was dropped. But the Major's words wrinkled the young man's mind, and would have been doubly bitter, had he known that their confidential conversation had been overheard. On either side of the great fireplace was a door leading to a suite of rooms, which had been old Chaspers. These apartments had been given to Maurice Trehearn, and he had just returned from London, with that he had been to consult a certain famous physician. Entering quietly, he had taken possession of his rooms, and having rested and dressed for dinner, rolled himself into the library, to which led the curtain door on the right. Sitting idly in his light-willed chair, I did to enter when his cousin appeared, he had heard the chat of Amen and the Major. As he listened, over his usually impassive face, passed varying expressions of anger, pain, bitterness and defiance. And when the young man uttered his almost fierce, We shall see, Trehearn smiled as cornful smile and clenched his pale hand with a gesture which proved that the year of suffering had not conquered the man's spirit, though it had crippled his strong body. A singular face was Maurice Trehearn's well-cut and somewhat hearty features, a fine brow under the dark locks that carelessly stricted, and remarkably piercing eyes, slight in figure and wasted by pain. He still retained the grace as native to him as the stern fortitude, which enabled him to hide the deep despair of an ambitious nature from every eye, and bear his affliction with the cheerful philosophy more pathetic than the most entire abandonment to grief. Carefully dressed, and with no hinted in validism but the chair, he bore himself as easily and calmly as if the doom of lifelong helplessness did not hang over him. A single motion of the hand set him holding noiselessly to the curtain door, but as he did so, a voice exclaimed behind him, Wait for me, Cousin, and as he turned a young girl approached, smiling a glad welcome as she took his hand, adding in a tone of soft reproach, home again, and not let me know it till I heard the good news by accident. Was it good news, Octavia? Maurice looked up at the frank face with a new expression those penetrating eyes of his. His cousin's open glance never changed as she stroked the hair of his forehead with the care as this one often gives the child and answered eagerly, The best to meet, the house is dull when you are away, for Jesper always becomes absorbed in horses and hounds, and leaves Mama and me to moat by ourselves. But tell me, Maurice, what they said to you, since you would not write. A little hope this time in patience, help me to wait, dear, help me to wait. His tone was infinitely sad, and as he spoke, he leaned his cheek against the kind hand he held, as if to find support and comfort there. The girl's face brightened beautiful, though her eyes felt, for her alone did he betray his pain, and in her alone did he seek consolation. I will, I will with heart and hand, take heaven for the hope, and trust me it shall be fulfilled. You look very tired, Maurice. While going to dinner with all those people, let me make you cozy here, she added anxiously. Thanks, I'd rather go in, it does me good, and if I stay away, Jesper feels that he must stay with me. I dressed in haste, am I right, little nurse? She gave him a comprehensive glance, then till he settled his cravet, brushed back a droent log, and with the maternal air that was charming said, my boy is always elegant, and I am proud of him. Now we'll go in. But with a hand on the curtain she paused, saying quickly as a voice reached her, who is that? Frank Anon, didn't you know he was coming? Maurice eyed her keenly. No, Jesper never told me. Why did he ask him? To please you? Me? When he knows I did test the man. No matter, I've gotten the color he hates, so he won't annoy me. And Mrs. Nodon can amuse herself with him. The general has come, you know. Rehearsed, smiled, well-pleased, for no sign of the maiden shame or pleasure did the girl's face betray, and as he watched her while she peeped, he sought with satisfaction, Anon is right, I have the advantage, and I will keep it at all costs. Here is Mama, we must go in, said Octavia, as a stately old lady made her appearance in the drawing room. The cousins entered together and Anon watched them covetly, while seemingly intent on paying his respects to Madam Mayor, as his hostess was called by her family. Handsomer than ever, he mattered, as his eyes rested on the blooming girl, looking more like a rose than ever, in the peach-colored circle which she had once condemned because her rival admired it. She turned to reply to the major, and Anon glanced at Rehearn, with an irrepressible frown, for sickness had not marked the charm of peculiar face, so colorless and thin that it seemed cutting marble. But the keen eyes shone with a wonderful brilliancy, and the whole countenance was alive with the power of intellect and will, which made the observer involuntarily exclaim, that man must suffer a daily martyrdom so crippled and confined, if it lasts long, he will go mad or die. General and Mrs. Snowdorne announced the servant, and a sudden pause ensued as everybody looked up to greet the newcomers. A feeble white-haired man entered, leaning on the arm of an inscribable beautiful woman, not 30 yet, tall and nobly molded, with straight black brows over magnificent eyes, rippling dark hair gathered up in a great knot, and ornamented with a single band of gold, a sweeping dress of wine-colored velvet set off with a dazzling neck and arms decorated like a stately head with ornaments of Roman gold. At the first glance, she seemed a cold-hearted creature, born to dazzle but not to win. A deeper scrutiny detected lines of suffering in that lovely face, and behind the veil of reserve, which bright-forced her to wear, appeared the anguish of a strong-willed woman burned by a heavy cross. No one would dare express pity on her sympathy, for her whole air repelled it, and in her gloomy eyes the scorn of herself mingled with defiance of the scorn of others, a strange, almost tragical-looking woman, in spite of beauty-grace and the cold sweetness of her manner. A faint smile parted her lips as she greeted those about her, and as her husband seated himself beside Lady Trehern, she lifted her head with a long press and a singular expression of relief, as if her burden was removed, and for the time being she was free, such as asper was at her side, and as she listened, her eyes glanced from face to face. Who is with you now, she asked, in a low mellow voice that was full of music. My sister and my cousin are yonder, you may remember Tavia as a child, she is little more now, more race is an invalid, but the finest fellow praising. I understand, and Mrs. Snowdon's eyes softened, with the sudden glance of pity for one cousin and admiration for the other, for she knew the facts. Major Royston, her father's friend, and Frank Aynan my own, do you know him, asked, such asper? No. Then allow me to make him happy by presenting him. May I? Not now, I'd rather see your cousin. Thanks, you are very kind, I'll bring him over. Stay, and let me go to him, begin the lady, with more feeling in face and voice, than one would believe her capable of showing. Pardon, it will offend him. He will not be pitted, or relinquish any of the duties or privileges of a gentleman, which he can possibly perform. He is proud, you can understand the feeling. So let us humour the poor fellow. Mrs. Snowdon, both silently, and her chest barcored out in his heart the blunt way, as if nothing was amiss with his cousin. Maurice, I have an honour for you. Come and receive it. Dividing what it was, Trehearn noiselessly crossed the room, and with no sign of self-consciousness or embarrassment, was presented to the handsome woman, thinking his presence might be restrained, such asper went away. The instant his back was turned, a change came over both. An almost grim expression, a place to so heavy tea of Trehearn's face, and Mrs. Snowdon's smile faded suddenly, while a deep flash rose of her brow, as her eyes questioned him besiegingly. How dare you come, he asked below his breath. The general insisted. And you could not change his purpose, poor woman? You will not be pitted, neither will I, and her eyes flashed, then the fire was quenched in tears, and her voice lost all its pride in a bleeding tone. Forgive me, I long to see you since your illness, and so I dared to come. You shall be gratified, look quite helpless, crippled for life, perhaps. The chair was turned from the groups about the fire, and as he spoke with a bitter laugh, Trehearn drew back the skin which covered his knees, and showed her his useless limbs, one too strong and fleet. She shrank and paled, put out her hand to arrest him, and cried in an indignant whisper. No, no, not that. You know, I never meant such cruel curiosity, such useless pain in both. Be still, someone is coming. He returned inaudibly, adding aloud as he adjusted the skin and smoothed the rich fur as if speaking of it. Yes, it is a very fine one. Chesper gave it to me. He spoils me like a dear, generous-hearted fellow as he is. Ah, Octavia, what can I do for you? Nothing, thank you. I want to recall myself to Mrs. Norden's memory, if she will let me. No need of that. I never forget happy faces and pretty pictures. Two years ago, I saw her at her first ball and loved to be a girl again. As she spoke, Mrs. Norden pressed her hand shyly off her, and smiled at the spirited face before her, though the shadow in her own eyes deepened as she met the bright clans of the girl. How kind you were that night. I remember you let me chat away about my family, my cousin, and my foolish little affairs with the sweetest patience, and made me very happy by your interest. I was homesick, and aunt could never be to hear of these things. It was before your marriage, and all the kinder, for you were the queen of the night, yet had a word for poor little me. Mrs. Norden was pale to the lips, and Maurice impatiently tapped the arm of his chair, while the girl innocently chatted on. I am sorry that general is such an invalid, yet I dare say you find great happiness in taking care of him. It is so pleasant to be of use to those we love, and as she spoke, Octavia leaned over to her cousin to hand him the glove he had dropped. The affectionate smile that accompanied the act made the color deep make enemies with Norden's cheek, and lit the spark in her softened eyes. Her lips curled, and her voice was sweetly sarcastic as she answered. Yes, it is charming to devote one's life to these dear invalids, and find ones rewarded in their gratitude. Use beauty, health, and happiness as small sacrifices if one wins a little comfort for the poor sufferers. The girl felt the sarcasm under the soft words and threw back with a troubled face. Maurice smiled and glanced from one to another, seeing significantly, well, for me, my little nurse loves her labor, and finds no sacrifice in it. I am fortunate in my choice. I trusted my proof so. Mrs. Norden got no further, for at that moment Nina was announced, and her chestbutt took her away. Aynon approached with him and offered his arm to Mr. Hearn, but with an air of surprise in the little gesture of refusal, she said coldly, My cousin always takes me into dinner. Be good enough to escort the major. And with a hand on the arm of the chair, she walked away with a mischievous glitter in her eyes. Aynon frowned and fell back, saying sharply, Come, Major, what are you doing there? Making discoveries. End of chapter 1, recording by Ellie, July 2009 Chapter 2 of The Abbot's Ghost This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Ellie, The Abbot's Ghost on Maurice Trehearn's Temptation, by Louisa May Alcott. Chapter 2, By Play A rite splendid all-dowensher was Lady Trehearn in her black velvet and point lace, as she sat erect and stately on a couch by the drawing-home fire, a couch which no one dare occupy in her absence, or share uninvited. The gentlemen were still over their wine, and the three ladies were alone. My lady never dosed in public. Mrs. Snowden never gossiped, and Octavia never troubled herself to entertain any guests but those of her own age. So long pause fell, and the conversation languished. Till Mrs. Snowden roamed away into the library. As she disappeared, Lady Trehearn beckoned to her daughter, who was idly making chords at the grand piano. Seating herself on the auto-man at the mother's feet, the girl took the still-handsome hand in her own, and amused herself with ex-mining the old-fashioned jewels that covered it. A pretext for occupying her tell-tale eyes as she suspected what was coming. My dear, I am not pleased with you, and I tell you so at once, that you may amend your fault. Began Madame Mia in a tender tone, for though a hearty impervious woman, she idolized her children. What have I done, Mama? Asked the girl. See, rather, what you have left undone, you have been very rude to Mr. Aenem. It must not occur again, not only because he is a guest, but because he is your brother's friend. The lady hesitated over the word lover, and changed it. Four to her, Octavia still seemed a child, and though anxious for the alliance, she forbade her to speak openly, lest the girl should turn whirlful as she inherited her mother's high spirit. I am sorry, Mama, but how can I help it, when he teases me so that I detest him, said Octavia patulently. How teased my love! Why, he follows me about like a dog, puts on a sentimental look when I appear, plushies and beams and bows at everything I say, if I am polite, frowns and sighs if I am not, and glower tragically at every man I speak to, even poor Maurice, or Mama, or foolish creatures men are, and the girl laughed brightly, as she looked up for the first time into her mother's face. The lady smiled as she stroked the bright head at her knee, but asked quickly, why say even poor Maurice, as if it were impossible for anyone to be jealous of him. But isn't it, Mama, I thought strong, when men regarded him as one set apart and done with, since he said misfortune. Not entirely, when women pity and pet the poor fellow, his comrades will be jealous absurd as it is. No one pets him but me, and I have a right to do it, for he is my cousin, said the girl feeling a touch of jealousy herself. Rose and Blanche Talbot do you, my dear, and there is no cousinship to excuse them. Then let Frank Aynan be jealous of them and leave me in peace. They promise to come today. I am afraid something has happened to prevent them, and Octavia gladly sees upon the new subject, but the lady was not to be eluded. They said, they could not come till after dinner. They will soon arrive. Before they do so, I must say a few words, Tavia, and beg you to give heed to them. I desire you to be courteous and aimable to Mr. Aynan, and before I strange as to be less attentive and affectionate to Maurice, you mean it kindly, but it looks ill and causes disagreeable remarks. Who blames me for being devoted to my cousin? Can I ever do anything to repay him for his devotion? Mama, you forget his safety a son's life. Indignate tears filled the girl's eyes, as she spoke passionately, forgetting that Mrs. Snowdon was within earshot of her raised voice. Is the frown my lady laid her hand on her daughter's lips, saying coldly, I do not forget, and I religiously discharge my every obligation by every care and comfort it is in my power to bestow. You are young, romantic and tender-hearted. You think you must give your time and health, must sacrifice your future happiness to this duty. You are wrong, and unless you learn wisdom in season, you will find that you have done harm, not good. God forbid, how can you do that? Tell me, and I will be wise in time. Turning the honest face up to her own, lady to her unwispered anxiously, has Maurice ever looked or hinted anything of love during this year he has been with us? And you, his constant companion? Never, Mama. He is too honorable and too unhappy to speak, or think of that. I am his little nurse, sister and friend, no more. Nor ever shall be. Do not suspect us, or put such fears into my mind. Else all our comfort will be spoiled. Flushed and eager was the girl, but her clear eyes betrayed no tender confusion as she spoke, and all her thoughts seemed to be to clear her cousin from the charge of loving her too well. Lady Trojan looked relieved and paused the moment and said, seriously but gently, this is well, but child, a child should tell me at once if he ever forgets himself, for this thing cannot be. Once I hoped it might, now it is impossible. Remember, that he continued a friend and cousin, nothing more, I warn you in time, but if you neglect the warning, Maurice must go. No more of this. Recollect my wish regarding Mr. Anan, and let your cousin amuse himself is out to you in public. Mama, do you wish me to like Frank Anan? The abrupt question had disturbed my lady, but knowing her daughter's frank and petious nature, she felt somewhat relieved by this candour and answered decidedly. I do. He is your equal in all respects. He loves you, just by desires it. I approve, and you, being heart whole, can have no just objection to this alliance. Has he spoken to you? No, to your brother. And you wish this much, Mama? Very much, my child. I will try to please you then, and stifling aside the girl kissed her mother with unwanted meekness in torn and manner. Now I am well pleased. Be happy, my love. No one will urge or distress you. Let matters take their course, and if this hope of ours can be fulfilled, I shall be relieved of the chief care of my life. A sound of girlish voices here broke on their ears, and springing up Octavia hurried to meet her friends, exclaiming joyfully. They have come, they have come. Two smiling blooming girls met her at the door, and being at an enthusiastic age, they gushed in girlish fashion for several minutes, making a pretty cope as they stood in each other's arms, all talking at once, with frequent kisses and little bursts of laughter, as went for their emotion. Madame Mia welcomed them, and then went to join Mrs. Northern, leaving the trio to gossip unrestrained. My dearest creature, I thought we never should get here, for Papa had a tiresome dinner party, and we were obliged to stay, you know, right rose, the lively sister, shaking out the pretty dress and glancing at herself in the mirror as she fluttered about to room like a butterfly. We were dying to come, and so charmed when you asked us, for we haven't seen you this age, darling. Added blanche, the pensive one, smoothing her blonde curls after the fresh embrace. I'm sorry the artists couldn't come to keep Christmas with us, for we have no gentleman but Jesper, Frank Ainen and the Major, said, isn't it, said Octavia, with the look of despair which caused the fresh peel of laughter. One apiece, my dear, it might be worse, and rose privately decided to appropriate her Jesper. Where's your cousin, asked blanche, is a sigh of sentimental interest. He is here, of course, I forget him, but he is not on the flirting list, you know, we must amuse him and not expect him to amuse us, though really all the capital suggestions and plans for marrymaking always come from him. He is better, I hope, ask both the sisters with real sympathy, making the young faces womanly and sweet. Yes, and his hopes of entire recovery, at least, they tell him so, though Dr. Ashley said, there was no chance of it. Dear, dear, how sad, shall we see him, Tavia? Certainly, he is able to be with us now in the evening, and enjoys society as much as ever, but please, take no notice of his infirmity, and make no inquiries beyond the usual, how do you do? He is sensitive and hates to be considered an invalid more than ever. How charming it must be to take care of him, he is so accomplished and delightful, a quiet envy you, that blanched pensively, such as, but told us, that the general and Mrs. Snowden were coming. I hope they will, for I have the most intense curiosity to see her, began Rose. Hush, she is in there with Mama, why curious? What is the mystery? For you look as if there was one, questioned Octavia under her press. The three charming heads bent toward one another as Rose replied in a whisper, if I knew I shouldn't be inquisitive. There was a rumor that she married the old general in a fit of peak, and now repents. I asked Mama once, but she said such matters were not for young girls to hear, and not the word more would she say, non-pardoned. I have fits of my own, and I can satisfy myself. The gentle men are coming. Am I all right, dear? And the three glanced at one another with a swift scrutiny, that nothing could escape, then grouped themselves prettily and waited, with a little flutter of expectation in each young heart. In came the gentlemen, and instantly a new atmosphere seemed to pervade the drawing room, for with the first words uttered, several romances began. Sir Chesper was taken possession of by Rose. Planche intended to devote herself to Maurice de Heurne, but Aynan intercepted her, and Octavia was spared any effort at politeness by this unexpected move on the part of her lover. He is angry and wishes to peak me by devoting himself to Planche. I wish he would with all my heart, and leave me in peace. Poor Maurice, he expects me, and alone to go to him, but I must obey Mama, and Octavia went to join the group found by my lady. This is Snoton, the general and the major. The two young couples flirted in different parts of the room, and Trohearn set alone, watching them all with eyes that pierced below the surface, reading the hidden wishes, hopes and fears that ruled them. A singular expression set on his face as he turned from Octavia's clear countenance to Mrs. Snoton's gloomy one. He leaned his head upon his hand and fell into deep thought, for he was passing through one of those fateful moments which come to us all and which may make my life. Such moments can be least looked for, an unexpected meeting, a peculiar mood, some trivial circumstance, or careless word produces it, and often it is gone before we realize its presence. Leaving half the effects to show us what we have gained or lost. Trohearn was conscious that the present hour and the acts that filled it possessed unusual interest and would exert an unusual influence on his life. Before him was the good and evil genius of his nature and the guys of these two women. Edith Snoton had already tried her power and accidentally only saved him. Octavia, all unconscious as she was, never failed to rise and stimulate the noblest attributes of mind and heart. The years spent in her society had done much for him and he loved her with the strange mingling of passion, reverence, and gratitude. He knew why Edith Snoton came. He felt that the old fascination had not lost its charm, and though fear was unknown to him, he was ill-pleased at the sight of the beautiful, dangerous woman. On the other hand he saw that Lady Trohearn desired her daughter to shine him and smile on Aenon. He acknowledged that he had no right to win the young Grieger, crippled and poor as he was, and the pain of cellar's pain won his heart as he watched her. Then a sense of power came to him. For helpless, poor, and seemingly an object of pity, he had felt that he held the honor, peace, and happiness of nearly every person present in his hands. It was his strong temptation to this man, so full of repressed passion and power, so set depart and shut out from the more stirring duties and pleasures of life. A few words from his lips and the pity all felt for him would be turning to fear, respect, and admiration. Why not utter them and enjoy all that was possible? He owned and rehearsed nothing. Why suffer in justice, dependence, and the compassion that wounds a proud man deepest? Where his love, pleasure, might be his with a press? Why not secure them now? His pale face flushed, his eyes kindled, and his thin hand lay clenched, like a vice as these sorts passed rapidly through his mind. A look a word at that moment would sway him, he felt it, and leaned forward, waiting in secret suspense for the glance, the speech which should decide him for good or ill. Who shall he say what subtle instinct caused Octavia to turn and smiled at him with a wistful, friendly look that warmed his heart? He met it with an answering glance, which shrilled her strangely for love, gratitude, and some mysterious intelligence, met and mingled in the brilliant yet soft expression which swiftly shone and faded in her face. But it was she could not tell. She only felt that it filled her with an indescribable emotion never experienced before. In an instant it all passed. Lady Trujurn spoke to her and blanched Helbo at Res Maurice, wondering as she did so if the enchanting smile he wore was meant for her. Mr. Aenon, having mercifully set me free, I came to try to cheer your solitude. But you look as if solitude made you happier than society does the rest of us. She said without a usual affection for his manner impressed her. You are very kind and very welcome. I do find pleasure to beguile my loneliness, which gayer people would not enjoy and it is well that I can, else I should turn my rose into reynaker and doom some unfortunate to entertain me all day long. He answered with a gentle courtesy, which was his chief attraction to womankind. Pray tell me some of your devices, I am often alone in spirit. If not so in the flesh, for rose, though a dear girl is not congenial, they find no kindred soul. A humorous glimmer came to Trujurn's eyes, as the sentimental damsel beamed a soft sigh and drooped along lashes effectively. Ignoring the topic of kindred souls, he answered coldly, my favorite amusement is that in the people around me, it may be rude. But tied in my corner, I cannot help watching the figures around me, discovering the little plots and plans. I am getting very expert and rarely surprise myself sometimes by the depths of my researches. I can't believe it, your eyes look as if they possessed a gift. Pray don't study me, and the girl shrank away with an air of genuine alarm. Trujurn smiled involuntarily, for he had read the secret of that shallow heart long ago, and was generous to use the knowledge however flattering it might be to him. In a reassuring tone he said, turning away the keen eyes she feared. I give you my word I never will, charming as it might be to study the white pages of a maidenly heart. I find plenty of others to read, so rest and dwell, Miss Blanche. Who interests you most just now? Ask the girl, coloring with flesh at his words. Mrs. Snordan looks like one who is a romance to be read, if you have the skill. I have read it. My lady is my study just now, I sawed a new herwell, but of late she puzzles me. Human minds are more full of mysteries than any written book and more changeable than the cloud ships in the air. A fine old lady, but I fear her so intensely, I should never dare try to read her as you say. Blanche looked toward the object of their discussion as she spoke and added, Putavia, how forlorn she seems. Let me ask her to join us, may I? Is all my heart was the quick reply? Blanche glided away, but did not return, for my lady kept her as well as her daughter. That test satisfies me. Well, I submit for a time, but I think I can conquer my aunt yet, and with the patient's side her turn turned to observe Mrs. Snordan. She now stood by the fire, talking with Sir Chesper, a handsome, reckless, generous-hearted young gentleman, who very plainly showed his great admiration for the lady. When he came, she suddenly woke up from her listless mood and became as brilliantly gay as she had been a mistaken melancholy before. As she chatted, she absentmindedly pushed to and fro a small antique urn of bronze on the chimney piece, and in doing so, she more than once gave to her an quick, significant glance, which she answered at last by a somewhat hearty note. Then, as if satisfied, she seized towing with the ornament and became absorbed in Sir Chesper's gallant bendenage. The instant her son approached Mrs. Snordan, but I'm mere co-anxious, and leaving Octavia and her friends in lava, she watched Chesper. But her surveillance availed little, for she could neither see nor hear anything amiss, yet could not read herself of the feeling that some mutual understanding existed between them. When the party broke for the night, she lingered till all were gone but her son and nephew. Well, Madame Améa, what troubles you? asked Sir Chesper, as she looked anxiously into his face before bestowing her good-night kiss. I cannot tell, yet I feel ill at ease, remember my son, that you are the pride of my heart, and any sin or shame of yours would kill me. Good-night, Maurice, and with a stately bow she swept away. Launching both elbows on the low chimney piece, Sir Chesper smiled at his mother's fears and said to his cousin, the instant they were alone. She is worried about E.S., odd, isn't it? What instinctive antibodies women can take to one another. Why did you ask E.S. here? demanded to hear. My dear fellow, how could I help it? My mother wanted the general, my father's friend, and of course, his wife must be asked also. I couldn't tell my mother that the lady had been a most arrogant coquette, to put it mildly, and had married the old man in a pet, because my cousin and I declined to be ruined by her. You could have told her what mischief she makes wherever she goes, and for Octavia's sake have deferred the general's visit for a time. I warn you, Chesper, harm will come of it. To whom, you are me. To both, perhaps, certainly to you, she was disappointed once, and she lost us both in wavering between your title my supposed fortune. She is miserable with the old man, and her only hope is in his death, for he is very feeble. You are free and doubly attractive now, so beware, or she will entangle you before you know it. Thanks, mentor. I have no fear. I shall merely amuse myself for a week. They stay no longer, and with a careless laugh, so Chesper strolled away. Much mischief may be done in a week, and this is the beginning of it. Mother Trehearne, as he raised himself to look under the bronze vase for the note, it was gone. End of Chapter 2, Recording by Ellie, August 2009 Chapter 3 of the Abbot's Ghost This is a LibraWax recording. All LibraWax recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraWax.org. Recording by Ellie, the Abbot's Ghost on Marie's Trehearne's Temptation by Louisa May Orcott, Chapter 3. Who was it? Who had taken it? This question tormented Trehearne all its sleepless night. He suspected three persons, for only these three had approached the fire after the note was hidden. He had kept his eye on it, his thought, till the stir of breaking up. In that moment it must have been removed by the Major Frank Anano M'lady, such as was out of the question, for he never touched an ornament in the drawing-room, since he had awkwardly demolished a hole at the share of costly trifles, to his mother's and sister's great grief. The Major evidently suspected something. Anano was jealous, and M'lady would be glad of a pretext to remove her daughter from his reach. Trusting to his skill in reading faces, he waited impatiently for mourning, resolving to see nothing to anyone but Mrs. Snowden, and from her merely to inquire what the note contained. Trehearne usually was invisible till lunch, often till dinner. Therefore fearing to excite suspicion by unwanted activity, he did not appear till noon. The mail-bag had just been opened, and everyone was busy over their letters, but all looked up to exchange a word with the newcomer, and Octavia impulsively turned to meet him, then checked herself and hid a suddenly crimson face behind the newspaper. Trehearne's eye took in everything, and saw at once in the unusually late arrival of the mail a pretext for discovering the pilferer of the note. All have let us but me, yet they expected one last night. Major, have you got it among yours? And as he spoke, Trehearne fixed his penetrating eyes full on the person he addressed. With no sign of consciousness, no trace of confusion, the Major carefully turned over his pile and replied in the most natural manner. Not the trace of it, I wish there was, for nothing annoys me more than any delay or mistake about my letters. He knows nothing of it, so Trehearne turned to Anen, who was deep in a long epistle from some intimate friend, with the talent for imparting news to judge from the reader's interest. Anen, I appeal to you, for I must discover who is Robby of my letter. I have but one, read it if you will, and satisfy yourself, was the brief reply. No, thank you, I merely asked in joke, it is doubtless among my ladies. Jesper's letters and mine often get mixed, and my lady takes care of his for him, as think you must have it, aunt. Lady Trehearne looked up impatiently. My dear Maurice, what they call about the letter, we none of us have it, so do not punish us for the sins of your correspondent or the carelessness of the post. She was not deceived, for she is always intensely polite, when she intends to twat me, so Trehearne, and apologizing for his rudeness in disturbing them, he rolled himself to his nook in a sunny window, and became apparently absorbed in a new magazine. Mrs. Snowdon was opening the generous letters for him, and having finished a little task, she roamed the way into the library, as if in search of a book. Presently returning with one, she approached to Herne, and putting it into his hands said in her musically distinct voice, Be so kind as to find for me the passage you spoke of last night. I am curious to see it. Instantly comprehending her strategy, he opened it with a parent carelessness, secured the tiny note laid among the leaves, and selecting a passage at hazard returned her book and resumed his own. Behind the cover of it he unfolded and read these words. I understand, but do not be anxious. The line I left was merely this. I must see you alone, tell me when and where. No one can make much of it, and I will discover the thief before dinner. Do nothing, but watch to whom I speak first and entering, when we meet in the evening and beware of the person. Quietly transferring the note to the fire with the rip of the magazine, he dismissed the matter from his mind, and left Mrs. Snotton to play detective as she pleased, while he visited himself about his own affairs. It was a clear bright December day, and when the young people separated to prepare for a ride, while the general and the mage assigned themselves on the terrace, Lady Trohearn said to her nephew, I am going for an airing in the pony carriage. Will you be my escort, Maurice? This blesher replied the young man, well knowing what was in store for him. My lady was unusually testy turning grave, yet seemed anxious to say something, which she found difficult to utter. Trohearn saw this, and ended an awkward pause by dashing boldly into the subject, which occupied both. I think you want to say something to me about Tevi, am I right? Yes. Then let me spare the pain of beginning, and prove my sincerity by openly stating the truth, as far as I am concerned. I love her very dearly, but I am not mad enough to dream of telling her so. I know that it is impossible. I relinquish my hopes, trust me. I will keep silent, and see her merrily in and without the word of complaint, if you will it. I see by her old abmenner that you have spoken to her, and that my little friend and nurse is to be mine no longer. Perhaps you are wise, but if you do this on my account, it is in vain. The mischief is done, and while I live, I shall laugh my cousin. If you do it to spare her, I am dumb, and will go away rather than cause her a care of pain. Do you really mean this, Maurice? And Lady Trehearn looked at him with a changed, softened face. Turning upon her, Trehearn showed her a countenance full of suffering and sincerity, of resignation and resolve, as he said honestly. I do mean it. Prove me in any way you please. I am not the bad fellow aunt, and I desire to be better. Since I am misfortune, I have had time to test many things myself among others, and in spite of many faults, I do cherish the wish to keep my soul honest and true, even though my body be a wreck. It is easy to say these things, but in spite of temptation, I think I can stand firm if you trust me. My dear boy, I do trust you, and thank you gratefully for this frankness. I never forget that I own trespass life to you, and never expect to repay the debt. Remember this when I seem cold or unkind, and remember also that I say no. Had you been spared this affliction, I would gladly have given you my girl, but. But, aunt, here one thing, broken Trehearn, detail me that any sudden and violent shock of surprise, show your sorrow, may do for me what the hope time will achieve. I said nothing of this, for it is but a chance. Yet, while there is any hope, neither utterly renounce Octavia. It is hard to refuse, and yet I cannot think advice to build upon a chance to slight. Once let her have you, and both are made unhappy. If the hope fail, no more is. It is better to be generous, and leave her free to make her own happiness elsewhere. In and loves her, and she's heart whole, and will soon learn to love him if you are silent. My poor boy, it seems cruel, but I must say it. Shall I go away, aunt? Was all his answer, very firmly uttered, though his lips were white. Not yet. Only leave them to themselves, and hide your trouble if you can. Yet, if you prefer, you shall go to town, and Benson shall see that you are comfortable. Your hearse will be a reason, and I will come, or write often if you are homesick. It shall depend on you, for I want to be just and kind in this hard case. You shall decide. Then I will stay. I can hide my love, and to see them together will soon cease to wound me if Octavia is happy. So let it rest then, for a time. You shall miss your companion as little as possible, for I will try to fill her place. Forgive him, Maurice, and plead their mother's solicitude. For these two are the last of many children, and I am a widow now. Lady Trohearn's voice faltered, and if any selfish hope of landling her in her nephew's mind, that the pill punished it, and touched his better nature. Pricing her hand he said gently, dear aunt, do not lament over me. I am once at the path for afflictions, yet I will not be conquered by them. Let us forgive my use, and be friendly counsellors together for the good of the two, whom we both love. I must say a word about Jesper, and he will not price me to explain more than I can without breaking my promise. Thank you, thank you. It is regarding that woman, I know. Tell me all you can. I will not be impotent, but I disliked her the instant I saw her, beautiful and charming as she seems. When my cousin and I were in Paris, just before my illness we met her. She was with her father then, a gay old man who led a life of pleasure, and was no fit guardian for a lovely daughter. She knew her story, and having fascinated both, paused to decide which she would accept. Jesper for his title on me from a fortune. This was before my uncle changed his well, and I believed myself his heir, but before she made her choice something, don't ask me what if you please. Occurred, so sent us from Paris. On our return voyage we were wrecked, and then came my illness disinheritance and helplessness. It is to bear I heard the story, but rumor reported it falsely, and she believed both of us had lost the fortune. Her father died penniless, and in the moment of despair she married the general, whose wealth surrounds with the luxury she loves, and whose failing hers will soon restore her liberty. And then, Maurice interrupted my lady. She hopes to win Jesper, I think. Never! He must prevent that at all costs. I had rather see him dead before me than the husband of such a woman, while she permitted to visit homes like mine. I should have been told this sooner, exclaimed my lady angrily. I should have told you ahead and on it, and it proved Jesper for his neglect, don't have been needlessly troubled and. There is no blemish on Mrs. Nordon's name, and as the wife of a brave and honorable man, she is received with our question, for beauty, grace, or tact like hers, can make the way anywhere. She stays but a week, and I will devote myself to her. This will save Jesper, and if necessary, convince Tabie of my indifference. Then he paused to stifle a sigh. But yourself! Have you no fears of your own peace, Maurice? You must not sacrifice happiness or honor for me or mine. I am safe. I love my cousin, and that is my shield. Whatever happens, remember that I try to serve you and sincerely endeavor to forget myself. God bless you, my son. Let me call you so, and field it, though I deny you my daughter, I give you heartily a mother's care and affection. Let it through hern was as generous as she was proud, and her nephew had conquered her by confidence and submission. He acted no part, yet even in relinquishing all he cherished the hope that he might get win the heart he coveted. Silently departed, but from that hour a new and closer bond existed between the two, and exerted an unsuspected influence over the whole household. Maurice waited with some impatience for Mrs. Norton's entrance. Not only because of his curiosity to see, he shed his cowardice, but because of the part he had taken upon himself to play. He was equal to it, and felt a certain flesh-handed for a three-fold reason. It would serve his aunt and cousin, but divert his mind from its own cares, and perhaps by making Octavia jealous make me laugh, for though he had chosen the right, he was but the man, and moreover a lover. Mrs. Norton was late. She always was, for a toilet was elaborate, and she liked to enjoy its effects upon others. The moment she entered, Trohearn's eye was on her, and to his intense surprise in denouance, she addressed Octavia, saying blindly, My dear Mr. Hearn, I've been admiring your peacocks. Pray let me see your feet them tomorrow. Mr. Elbow says it's a charming sight. If you're on the terrace just off the land, she will find them there, and may feed them yourself if you like, must the cool she will reply. She looks like a peacock herself, and that splendid green and gold dress, doesn't she, whispered roasts to her chest, but with a wicked laugh. Face, she does, but wish there was bird's-head voices like Mrs. Norton's, that squealing a noise me intensely. I rather like it, for it's honest and normal as a mischief is hidden behind it. I always distrust those smooth-sweet voices, they are insincere. I like a full clear tone, sharp, if you please, but decided and true. Well said Octavia, I agree with you, and you own is a perfect sample of the kind you describe, and Trohearn smiled as he rolled by to join Mrs. Norton who evidently waited for him, while Octavia turned to her brighter to defend her pets. Are you sure? How did you discover, said Maurice, affecting to admire the lady's bouquet as she paused beside her? I suspected at the moment I saw her this morning, she is no actress, and dislike distrust and contempt were visible in her face, and we met. Till you so cleverly told me my note was lost, a fan said she was disturbed about her brother, or you. A sudden pause in the keen glance followed the last soft uttered words, but Trohearn met it with an inscrutable smile and a quiet, well, what next? The moment I learned that you did not get the note, I was sure she had it, and knowing that she must have seen me put it there in spite of her apparent innocence, I quietly asked her for it. This surprised her, disrupted her fear of any mystery, and I finished her perplexity by sending it to the major the moment she returned it to me, as if it had been intended for him. She begged pardon and said her brother was sortless, and she watched over him, lest you should get into mischief. Professor Sinker meant the line for him, and behaved like a charming simpleton as she is. Quite a tumult about nothing, poor little Tevi, you doubtlessly frightened her, so that we may safely correspond hereafter. You may give me an answer now and here. Very well, meet me on the terrace tomorrow morning. The peacocks will make the meeting natural enough. I usually loiter away an hour or two there in the sunny part of the day. But the girl? I will send her away. You speak as if it would be an easy thing to do. It will, both easy and pleasant. Now your mysterious or uncomplementary. You either care nothing for a tat-a-tat with her, or you will gladly send her out of my way, which is it. You shall decide. Can I have this? She looked at him as he touched a rose with the warning glance, for the flower was both an emblem of love and of silence. Did he mean to hint that he recalled the past, or to warn her that someone was near? She leaned from the shadow of the curtain where she sat, and caught a glimpse of a shadow gliding away. Was it? she asked, below her press. A rose answered loving. Then, as if the danger was over, he said, how will you account the major for the message she sent him? Easily by fabricating some interesting publicity in which I want Sage Council. He will be flattered, and be seeming to take him into my confidence. I can hud-wing the accident man to my heart's content, for he annoys me by his good way of mounting out over me at all times. Now take me into dinner and be your family light for self. That is impossible, he said. He had proved that it was not. End of chapter 3, recording by Ellie, October 2009 Chapter 4 of The Abbot's Ghost This is a LibraVox recording. All LibraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org. Recording by Ellie, The Abbot's Ghost on a Restro-Hearned Semptation, by Louisa May Alcott. Chapter 4, feeding the Peacocks It was indeed a charming sight. The twelve stately birds perched on a broad-stone velo-straight, uprising slowly along the terrace, with the sun gleaming on the green and golden necks, and the glories of the gorgeous blooms, wide-spread as weeping like red strains behind them. In pretty contrast to the splendid creatures was the young mistress, in her simple morning dress and fur-trimmed hooded mantle. As she stood feeding the tame pets from her hand, calling their fensiful names, loving at their pranks and heartily enjoying the winter sunshine, the fresh wind and the girlish pastime. Estrehearned slowly approached, he watched her with lover's eyes, and found her very sweet and blight, and dear in his sight than ever. She had shunned him carefully all the day before, had parted at night with a hasty handshake, and hadn't come as usual to bid him good morning in the library. He had taken no notice of the changes yet, but now, remembering his promise to his aunt, he resolved to let the girl know that he fully understood the relation which henceforth was to exist between them. Good morning, Cassen. Shall I drive you away if I take a turn or two here? He said in a cheerful tone, but with a half-reproachful glance. She looked at him an instant, then went to him with extended hand and cheeks rose here than before, while her frank eyes felled, and her voice had a draughty restry-minded, as she said, impetuously. I will be myself for a moment, in spite of everything. Maurice, don't think me unkind, don't reproach me, or ask me leave to come where I am. There is a reason for the change you see in me. It's not caprice, it's obedience. My dear girl, I know it. I want to speak of it, and show you that I understand. Aynan is a good fellow, as worthy of you as any man can be, and I wish you all the happiness you deserve. Do you? Her eyes searched his face keenly. Yes, do you doubt it? And so well did he conceal his laugh, that neither face-voice nor manner betrayed a hint of it. Her eyes fell, a cloud passed through her clear countenance, and she withdrew her hand as if to caress the hungry bird that gently pecked at the basket she held. As if to change the conversation she said playfully, Poor Argus, you have lost your fine feathers, and so all desert you, except the kind little Chuno, who never forgets her friends. There, take it all and share between you. Trehearn smiled and said quickly, I am a human Argus, and you have been a kind little Chuno to me since I lost my blooms. Continue to be so, and you will find me a very faceful friend. I will, and as she answered, her old smile came back, and her eyes met his again. Thanks, now we shall get done happily. I don't ask why I expect the old life, that's impossible. I knew that when lovers came, the friend would fall into the background, and I am content to be second, where I have so long been first. Do not think you neglect me, be happy with your lover dear, and when you have no pleasant amusement, come and see all Maurice. She turned her head away, that he might not see the angry collar in her cheeks, the drabler in her eyes, and when she spoke it was to say patulently. I wish Chesp and Mama would leave me in peace. I hate lovers and want none. If Frank teases, I will go into a convent, and so be rid of him. Maurice laughed and turned her face toward himself, saying in his persuasive voice, Give him a trial first to please your mother. It can do no harm, it may amuse you, Frank is already lost. And, as your heart whole, why not see what you can do for him? I shall have a new study then, and not miss you so much. You are very kind, I'll do my best. I wish Mrs. Nordon would come, if she is coming. I have an engagement at two, and Frank will look tragical, if I am not ready. He is teaching me billiards, and I really like the game, though I never saw the shot. That looks well. I hope you'll learn a double lesson, and aim and find a docile pupil in both. You are very pale this morning. Are you in pain, Maurice? Suddenly asked Octavia, topping the tone of assumed ease and deity under which she had tried to hide her trouble. Yes, but it will soon pass. Mrs. Nordon is coming. I saw her at the hall by a moment ago. I will show her the peacocks, if you want to go. She won't mind the change, I dare say, as you don't like her and I do. No, I am sure of that. It was an arrangement, perhaps? I understand. I will not blame at Marcel the Droll. Sudden fire shone in the girl's eyes. Sudden contempt curled her lip, and the clans full of meaning went from her cousin to the door, where Mrs. Nordon appeared, waiting for her maid to bring her some additional wrappings. You allude to the note you stole. How come you played at prank Tevi? Asked to her in tranquilly. I saw her put it under the urn. I thought it was for Chesper, and I took it. She said bullshie. Why for Chesper? I remember his speaking of meeting her long ago, and describing her beauty enthusiastically, and so did you. You have a good memory. I have for everything concerning those I love. I observed her manner of meeting my brother, his devotion to her, and understood loving together before the fire, I felt sure that she wished to charm him again. Again? Then she did charm him once. I asked to her, anxious to know how much Chesper had told his sister. He always denied it, and declared that you were the favourite. Then why not think the note for me? he asked. I do know, was the sharp answer. But she told you it was for the major, and sent it. She deceived me. I am not surprised. I am glad Chesper is safe, and I wish you a pleasant head at head. Bowing with unwanted dignity, Octavia sat down her basket, and walked away in one direction as Mrs. Nordon approached in another. I have done it now, side to her, turning from the girlish figure to watch the stately creature who came sweeping toward him with noiseless craze. Brilliant sense Blender became Mrs. Nordon. She enjoyed luxury, and her beauty made many things becoming, which in a plainer woman would have been out of taste and absurd. She had trapped herself in a genuine eastern burners of scarlet blue and gold. The hood drawn over her head framed her fine face in rich use, and the great gold tassels shone against the rippling black hair. She wore it with grace, and the barbaric splendour of the garment became her well. The fresh air touched her cheeks with a delicate colour. Her usually gloomy eyes were brilliant now, and the smile that parted her lips was full of happiness. Welcome, Cleopatra. Cry to her with difficulty reprising her laugh, as the peacocks screamed and fled before the rustling amplitude of her drapery. I might reply by calling you Tadeus of Varshow, for you look very romantic and polished with your pale-pensive face, and your splendid face. She answered as she paused beside him, with admiration very visibly expressed in her eyes. Treheund is like the look, and rather abruptly said as he offered her the basket of bread. I have disposed of my cousin, and offered to do the honours of the peacocks. Here they are. Will you feed them? No, thank you. I care nothing for the foals. As you know, I came to speak to you, she said impatiently. I am at your service. I wish to ask you a question or two. Is it permitted? What man Emma refused Mrs. Snotton a request? Nay, no compliments. From you there are only satirical evations, and was deceived when abroad, and rashly merited old man, tell me truly how things stand. Jesper has all, I have nothing. I am glad of it. Many thanks for the hearty speech. You at least speak sincerely, he said bitterly. I do, Maurice. I do. Let me prove it. Treheund's chair was close beside the ballast-rade. Mrs. Snotton leaned on the craft-trailing with her back to the house, and her face screened by a tall urn. Looking steadily at him, she said rapidly and low, you thought I wavered between you and Jesper, and reparted two years ago. I did, but it was not between title and fortune that I hesitated. It was between duty and love. My father, a fond foolish old man, had set his heart on seeing me a lady. I was his all, my beauty was his delight, and no untitled man was deemed worthy of me. I loved him tenderly. You may doubt this, knowing herself is reckless and vain I am. But I have a heart, and with better training had been a better woman. No matter. It is too late now. Next, my father, I loved you. Nay, hear me. I will clear myself in your eyes. I mean no wrong to the general. He is kind and dull and generous. I respect him. I am grateful, and while he lives, I shall be true to him. Then be silent now. Do not recall the past, Edith. Let it sleep. For both our sakes begin to earn, but you check him imperiously. It shall, when I am done. I loved you, Maurice. For all the gay, idle, pleasure-seeking men I saw about me, you were the only one who seemed to have a thought beyond the folly of the hour, under the seeming frivolity of your life lay something noble, heroic and true. I felt that you had a purpose, that your present mood was but transitory, a young man's holiday, before the real work of his life began. This attracted, this won me. For even in the brief regard you then gave me, there was an earnestness no other man had shown. I wanted your respect, I longed to earn your life, to share your life, proved that even in my neglected nature I slept the power of cancelling if revolveous past by noble future. Oh, Maurice, had you lingered one week more, I never should have been the miserable thing I am. There her voice faltered and filled, for all the bitterness of lost love, peace and happiness sounded in the pathetic passion of that exclamation. She did not weep, for tears seldom dimmed to strategical eyes of hers, but she wrung her hands in muti-spear and looked down into the frost-blighted gardens below, as if she saw there a true symbol of her own ruined life. Trehearn uttered not the word, but said his deeds with an almost fierce glance toward the distant figure of Sir Chesper, who was riding gaily away, like when unburdened by memory or care. Haredly, Mrs. Snowden went on. My father backed and commanded me to choose your cousin. I could not break his heart, and asked for time, hoping to soften him. While awaited, that mysterious affair hurried you from Paris, and then came the wrecked illness, the rumor that old Sir Chesper had disinherited both nephews. They told me you were dying, and I became a passive instrument in my father's hands. I promised to recall and accept your cousin, but the old man died before it was done, and then I cared not what became of me. General Snowden was my father's friend, he pitied me. He saw my desolate destitute state, my despair, my helplessness. He comforted, sustained and saved me. I was grateful, and when he offered me his heart and home, I accepted them. He knew I had no love to give, but as a friend, a daughter, I would gladly serve him, and make his declining years as happy as I could. It was all over, when I heard that you were alive, afflicted and poor. I longed to come and live for you. My new bonds became heavy feathers then. My wares oppressed me, and it was doubly wretched. For I did not tell my trouble, and it nearly drove me mad. I have seen you now. I know that you are happy. I write your cousin's life, and see a peaceful life in store for you. This must content me, and I must learn to be it as I can. She paused, breathless and pale, and walked rapidly along the terrace, as if to hide or control the agitation that possessed her. Trehearne said still, but his heart leapt within him, as he thought. She sees that Octavia loves me. A woman's eye is quick to detect love in another, and she asserts that I begin to hope. My cousin's friend had just now her dislike of Aenon, her new shyness with me. It may be true, and if it is, heaven help me. What am I saying? I must not hope, nor wish nor dream, and must renounce and forget. He leaned his head upon his hand, and said so still, Mrs. Snowden rejoined him, pale, but calm and self-processed. As she drew near, she marked his attitude, the bitter sadness of his face, and hopes spring up within her. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps he did not love his cousin. Perhaps he still remembered the past, and still regretted the loss of the heart she had just laid bare before him. Her husband was failing, and might die any day. And then, free, rich, beautiful, and young, what might she not become to try her own, helpless, poor, and ambitious? It's all her faults. She was generous, and this picture charmed her fancy, warmed her heart, and comforted her pain. Maurice, she said softly, pausing again beside him, if I mistake you and your hopes, it is because I dare ask nothing for myself. But if ever a time shall come when I have liberty to give her help, ask me anything, and it is gladly yours. He understood her, pitted her in seeing that she found consolation in a distant hope, and let her enjoy it while she might. Grateful yet gratefully he spoke, and pressed the hand extended to him with an impulsive gesture. Generous as ever, Edith, and impetuously frank. Thank you for your sincerity, your kindness, and the affection you once gave me. I say once, for now, duty to us and honor bars from each other. My life must be solitary, yet I shall find work to do, and learn to be content. You owe all devotion to the good old man who loves you, and will not fail him, I am sure. Leave the future and the past, but let us make the present, what it may be, a time to forgive and forget, to take heart and begin anew. Christmas is a fitting time for such resolves, and the birth of friendship, such as ours may be. Something in his tone and manners struck her, and eyeing him with soft wonder shakes claimed, how changed you are. Need you tell me that? He glanced at his helpless limbs with a bitter yet pathetic look of patience. No, no, not so. I mean in mind, not body. Once you were gay and careless, eager and fiery, like Chesper. Now you are grave and quiet, but cheerful and so very kind. Yet in spite of illness and loss, you seem twice the man you were, and something with respect, as well as admiration and love. Her dark eyes felt as the last word left her lips, and the beauty of a touched heart shone in her face. Maurice looked up quickly, asking with sudden earnestness, Do you see it? Then it's true. Yes, I am changed. Thank God, and she has done it. Who? Demanded his companion, jealously. Octavia. Unconsciously, yet surely, she has done much for me, and this year of seeming loss and misery has been the happiest, most profitable of my life. I have often heard that afflictions are the best teachers, and I believe it now. Mrs. Snowdown shook her head sadly. Not always. There are two mentors to some, but don't preach, Maurice. I am still a sinner, though you inclined to sainthood, and I have one question more to ask. What was it that took you and Chesper so suddenly away from Paris? That I can never tell you. I shall discover it for myself then. It is impossible. Nothing is impossible to a determined woman. You can neither bring your surprise nor bribe this secret from the two persons who hold it. I beg of you to let it rest, set to her earnestly. I have a clue. They shall follow it. For I am convinced that something is wrong, and you are... Dear Mrs. Snowdown, you are so charmed with the birds that you forget your fellow beings. You are so charmed with one fellow being that you forget the birds. As the sudden questions started both, Oztelbo came along the terrace, with hands full of holly and a face full of merry mischief, adding as she vanished. I shall tell Tavie that feeding the peacocks is a continual amusement for lovers. She and Mr. Aynan had better tried. Saucy gypsy, not that to hern. But Mrs. Snowdown said with a smile of double meaning, many a true word is spoken in chest. End of chapter 4, recording by Ellie, September 2009 The Abbot's Ghost This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette The Abbot's Ghost or Maurice Trahearn's Temptation by Louisa May Elcott Chapter 5, Under the Missaltoe Unusually gay and charming the three young friends looked, dressed alike in fleecy white with holly wreaths in their hair, as they slowly descended the wide, oaken stairway arm in arm. A footman was lighting the hall lamps, for the winter dusk gathered early, and the girls were merely chatting about the evening's festivity, when suddenly a loud, long shriek echoed through the hall. A heavy glass shade fell from the man's hand with a crash, and the young ladies clung to one another aghast, for mortal terror was in the cry, and the dead silence followed it. What was it, John? Demanded Octavia. Very pale, but steady in a moment. I'll go and see Miss, and the man hurried away. Where did the dreffel scream come from? asked Rose, collecting her wits as rapidly as possible. Above us somewhere. Oh, let us go down among people. I am frightened to death, whispered Blanche, trembling and faint. Hurrying into the parlor, they found only a naan and the major, both looking startled, and both staring out of the windows. Did you hear it? What could it be? Don't go and leave us! Cried the girls in a breath as they rushed in. The gentleman had heard, couldn't explain the cry, and were quite ready to protect the pretty creatures who clustered about them like frightened fawns. John speedily appeared, looking rather wild, and as eager to tell his tale as they to listen. It's Patty, one of the maids' miss in a fit. She went up to the north gallery to see that the fires was right, for it takes a power of wood to warm the gallery, even enough for dancing, as you know, Miss. Well, it was dark, for the fires was low, and her candle went out as she whisked open the door, being flurried as the maids always is when they go in there. Halfway down the gallery she says she heard a rustling, and stopped. She's the pluckliest of them all, and she called out, I see you, thinking it was some of us trying to fright her. Nothing answered, and she went on a bit, when suddenly the fire flared up one flash, and there right before her was the ghost. Don't be foolish, John. Tell us what it was. Said Octavia sharply, though her face whitened, and her heart sank as the last word passed the man's lips. It was a tall black figure-miss, with a dead white face in a black hood. She see it plain, and turned to go away, but she hadn't gone a dozen steps when there it was again before her. The same tall, dark thing with the dead white face looking out from the black hood. It lifted its arm as if to hold her, but she gave a spring and dreadful screech, and ran to Mrs. Benson's room, where she dropped in a fit. How absurd to be frightened by the shadows of the figures and armor that stand along the gallery, said Rose boldly enough, though she would have declined entering the gallery without a light. Nay, I don't wonder, it's a ghostly place at night. How is the poor thing, asked Blanche, still hanging on the major's arm in her best attitude. If my mom knows nothing of it, tell Mrs. Benson to keep it from her. Please, she is not well, and such things annoy her very much, said Octavia, adding as the man turned away. Did anyone look in the gallery after Patty told her tale? No, miss. I'll go and do it myself. I'm not afraid of man, ghost, or devil, saving your presence, ladies, replied John. Where is Sir Jasper? Suddenly asked the major. Here I am. What a deuce of noise someone has been making. It disturbed a capital dream. Why, Tavey, what is it? And Sir Jasper came out of the library with a sleepy face and tumbled hair. They told him the story, whereat he laughed heartily, and said the maids were a foolish set to be scared by a shadow. While he still laughed and joked, Mrs. Snowden entered, looking alarmed and anxious to know the cause of the confusion. How interesting! I never knew you kept a ghost. Tell me all about it, Sir Jasper, and soothe our nerves by satisfying our curiosity. She said in her half-persuasive, half-commanding way, as she seated herself on Lady Trahearn's sacred sofa. There's not much to tell, except that this place used to be an Abbey, in fact, as well as a name. An ancestor founded it, and for years the monks led a jolly life here, as one may see, for the cellar is twice as large as the chapel, and much better preserved. But another ancestor, a gay and gallant baron, took a fancy to the sight for his castle, and in spite of prayers, and nathomas, and excommunication, he turned the poor fellows out, pulled down the Abbey, and built this fine old place. Abbot Boniface, as he left his Abbey, uttered a heavy curse on all who should live here, and vowed to haunt us till the last Trahearn vanished from the face of the earth. With this amiable threat, the old party left baron rolling to his doom, and died as soon as he could in order to begin his cheerful mission. Did he haunt the place? asked Blanche eagerly. Yes, most faithfully from that time to this. Some say many of the monks still glide about the older parts of the Abbey, for Rowland spared the chapel and the north gallery which joined it to the modern building. Poor fellows, they are welcome, and once a year they shall have a chance to warm their ghostly selves by the great fires, always kindled at Christmas in the gallery. Mrs. Benson once told me that when the ghost walked, it was a sure sign of a coming death in the family. Is that true? asked Rose, whose curiosity was excited by the expression of Octavia's face, and a certain uneasiness in Sir Jasper's manner, in spite of his merry mood. There is a stupid superstition of that sort in the family, but no one except the servants believes it, of course. In times of illness, some silly maid or croaking old woman can easily fancy they see a phantom, and if death comes, they are sure of the ghostly warning. Benson saw it before my father died, and old Roger, the night my uncle was seized with apoplexy. Patty will never be made to believe that this warning does not forebode the death of Maurice or myself, for the gallant spirit leaves the ladies of our house to depart in peace. How does it strike you, cousin? Turning as he spoke, Sir Jasper glanced at Juhern, who had entered while he spoke. I am quite skeptical and indifferent to the whole affair, but I agree with Octavia that it is best to say nothing to my aunt if she is ignorant of the matter. Her rooms are a long way off, and perhaps she did not hear the confusion. You seem to hear everything. You were not with us when I said that. And Octavia looked up with an air of surprise. Smiling significantly, Juhern answered, I hear, see, and understand many things that escape others. Jasper, allow me to advise you to smooth the hair which your sleep has disarranged. Mrs. Snowden, permit me. This rich velvet catches the least speck. And with his handkerchief, he delicately brushed away several streaks of white dust, which clung to the lady's skirt. Sir Jasper turned hastily on his heel, and went to remake his toilet. Mrs. Snowden bit her lip, but thanked Juhern sweetly, and begged him to fasten her glove. As he did so, she said softly, Be more careful next time. Octavia has keen eyes, and the major may prove inconvenient. I have no fear that you will, he whispered back with a malicious glance. Here the entrance of my lady put an end to the ghostly episode, for it was evident that she knew nothing of it. Octavia slipped away to question John, and learned that no sign of a phantom was to be seen. Juhern devoted himself to Mrs. Snowden, and the major entertained my lady, while Sir Jasper and the girls chatted apart. It was Christmas Eve, and a dance in the Great Gallery was the yearly festival at the Abbey. All had been eager for it, but the maid's stories seemed to have lessened their enthusiasm, though no one would own it. This annoyed Sir Jasper, and he exerted himself to clear the atmosphere by affecting Gaiety he did not feel. The moment the gentleman came in after dinner, he whispered to his mother, who rose, asked the general for his arm, and led the way to the North Gallery, once the sound of music now proceeded. The rest followed in a mirroring procession, even Juhern, for two footmen carried him up the great stairway, chair, and all. Nothing could look less ghostly now than the haunted gallery. Fires roared up a wide chimney at either end. Long rows of figures clad in armor stood on each side, one mailed hand grasping a lance, the other bearing a lighted candle, a device of Sir Jasper's. Narrow windows pierced in the thick walls let in gleams of wintry moonlight. Ivy, holly, and evergreen glistened in the ruddy glow of mingled firelight and candle shine. From the arched stone roof hung tattered banners, and in the midst depended a great bunch of mistletoe. Red cushion seats stood in recessed window nooks, and from behind a high-covered screen of oak sounded the blithe air of Sir Roger de Coverley. With the utmost gravity and statelyness, my lady and the general led off the dance, for according to the good old fashion, the men and maids in their best array joined the gentlefolk and danced with their bedders in a high state of pride and bashfulness. Sir Jasper twirled the old housekeeper till her head spun around and around, and her decorous skirts rustled stormily. Mrs. Snowden captivated the gray-haired butler by her condescension, and John was made a proud man by the hand of his young mistress. The major came out strong among the pretty maids, and Rose danced the footman out of breath long before the music paused. The mirrorment increased from that moment, and when the general surprised my lady by gallantly saluting her as she unconsciously stood under the mistletoe, the applause was immense. Everyone followed the old gentleman's example as fast as opportunities occurred, and the young ladies soon had as fine a color as the housemaids. More dancing, games, songs, and all manner of festival devices filled the evening, yet under cover of the gaiety, more than one little scene was enacted that night, and in an hour of seeming frivolity, the current of several lives was changed. By a skillful maneuver and non-let Octavia to an isolated recess, as if to rest after a brisk game, and taking advantage of the auspicious hour, pleaded his suit. She heard him patiently, and when he paused, said slowly, yet decidedly, and with no sign of maiden hesitation, Thanks for the honor you do me, but I cannot accept it, for I do not love you. I think I never can. Have you tried? He asked eagerly. Yes, indeed I have. I like you as a friend, but no more. I know Mama desires it, that Jasper hopes for it, and I try to please them. But love will not be forced, so what can I do? And she smiled in spite of herself at her own blunt simplicity. No, but it can be cherished, strengthened, and in time won, with patience and devotion. Let me try, Octavia. It is but fair, unless you have already learned from another the lesson I hope to teach. Is it so? No, I think not. I do not understand myself as yet. I am so young, and this is so sudden. Give me time, Frank. She blushed and fluttered now, looked half angry, half beseeching, and altogether lovely. How much time shall I give? It cannot take long to read a heart like yours, dear. And fancying her emotion a propitious omen, he assumed the lover in good earnest. Give me time till the new year. I will answer then, and meantime leave me free to study both myself and you. We have known each other long, I own, but still, this changes everything, and makes you seem another person. Be patient, Frank, and I will try to make my duty a pleasure. I will. God bless you for the kind hope, Octavia. It has been mine for years, and if I lose it, it will go hardly with me. Later in the evening, General Snowden stood examining the antique screen. In many places, carved oak was pierced quite through, so that voices were audible from behind it. The musicians had gone down to supper. The young folk were quietly busy at the other end of the hall, and as the old gentleman admired the quaint carving, the sound of his own name caught his ear. The housekeeper and butler still remained, though the other servants had gone, and sitting cosily behind the screen, chatted in low tones, believing themselves secure. It was Mrs. Snowden, Adam, as I'm a living woman, though I wouldn't say it to anyone but you. She and Sir Jasper were here wrapped in cloaks, and up to mischief I'll be bound. She is a beauty, but I don't envy her, and they'll be trouble in the house if she stays long. But how do you know Mrs. Benson she was here? Where's your proof, Mom? asked the pompous butler. Look at this, and then look at the outlandish trimming of the lady's dress. You men are so dull about such matters you never observe these little points. Well, I was here first after Patty, and my light shone on this jet ornament line near where she saw the spirit. No one has any such tasty trifles but Mrs. Snowden, and these are all over her gown. If that ain't proof, what is? Well, admitting it, I then say what on earth should she and Master be up here for at such a time? Ask the slow-witted butler. Adam, we are old servants of the family, and to you I'll say what tortures shouldn't draw from to another. Master has been wild, as you know, and it's my belief that he loved this lady abroad. There was a talk of some mystery or misdeed or misfortune more than a year ago, and she was in it. I'm loath to say it, but I think Master loves her still, and she him. The general is an old man, she is but young, and so spirited and winsome she can't in reason care for him as for a fine, gallant gentleman like Sir Jasper. There's trouble brewing, Adam, mark my words. There's trouble brewing for the churns. So low had the voices fallen that the listener could not have caught the words had not his ear been strained to the utmost. He did hear all, and his wasted face flashed with the wrath of a young man, then grew pale and stern as he turned to watch his wife. She stood apart from the others, talking to Sir Jasper, who looked unusually handsome and debonair as he fanned her with a devoted air. Perhaps it is true, thought the old man bitterly. They are well matched, were lovers once, no doubt, and longed to be so again. Poor Edith, I was very blind. And with his grey head bowed upon his breast, the general stole away, carrying an arrow in his brave old heart. Blanche, come here and rest. You will be ill tomorrow, and I promised Mama to take care of you. With which elderly sisterly command Rose led the girl to an immense old chair, which held them both. Now listen to me, and follow my advice, for I am wise in my generation, though not yet grey. They are all busy, so leave them alone and let me show you what is to be done. Rose spoke softly, but with great resolution, and nodded her pretty head so energetically that the holly berries came rolling over her white shoulders. We are not as rich as we might be, and must establish ourselves as soon and as well as possible. I intend to be Lady Trahearn. You can be the honourable Mrs. Anon if you give your mind to it. My dear child, are you mad, whispered Blanche? Far from it. But you will be if you waste your time on Maurice. He is poor and a cripple, though very charming, I admit. He loves Tavi, and she will marry him, I am sure. She can't endure Frank, but tries to because my Lady commands it. Nothing will come of it, so try your fascinations and comforts the poor man. Sympathy now will foster love hereafter. Don't talk so, here Rose. Someone will hear us. Began her sister, but the other broke in briskly. No fear. A crowd is the best place for secrets. Now remember what I say, and make your game while the ball is rolling. Other people are careful not to put their plans into words, but I'm no hypocrite, and say plainly what I mean. Bear my sage counsel in mind, and act wisely. Now come and begin. Trahearn was sitting alone by one of the great fires, regarding the gaze seen with serious air. For him there was neither dancing nor games. He could only roam about catching glimpses of forbidden pleasures, impossible delights, and youthful hopes for ever lost to him. Sad, but not Maurice was his face, and to Octavia it was a mutual approach which she could not long resist. Coming up as if to warm herself, she spoke to him in her usually frank and friendly way, and felt her heart beat fast when she saw how swift a change her cordial manner brought in him. How pretty your holly is! Do you remember how we used to go in gatherings for festivals like this when we were happy children? He asked, looking up at her with eyes full of tender admiration. Yes, I remember. Everyone wears it tonight as a badge, but you have none. Let me get you a bit. I'd like to have you one of us in all things. She leaned forward to break a green sprig from the branch over the chimney-piece. The strong draught drew in her fleecy skirt, and in an instant she was enveloped in flames. Maurice, save me! Help me! cried a voice of fear and agony, and before anyone could reach her, before he himself knew how the deed was done. Trahearn had thrown himself from his chair, wrapped the tiger-skin tightly about her, and knelt there clasping her in his arms, heedless of fire, pain, or the incoherent expressions of love that broke from his lips. End of Chapter 5 Recording by Linda Lee Paquette Chapter 6 of The Abbott's Ghost This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette The Abbott's Ghost or Maurice Trahearn's Temptation by Louisa May Elcott Chapter 6 Miracles Great was the confusion and alarm which rained for many minutes. But when the panic subsided, two miracles appeared. Octavia was entirely uninjured, and Trahearn was standing on his feet, a thing which for months he had not done without crutches. In the excitement of the moment, no one observed the wonder. All were crowding about the girl, who pale and breathless, but now self-possessed, was the first to exclaim, pointing to her cousin, who had drawn himself up with the help of his chair, and leaned their smiling with a face full of intense delight. Look at Maurice! Oh Jasper, help him or he'll fall! Sir Jasper sprung to his side, and put a strong arm about him, while a chorus of wonder, sympathy, and congratulations rose about them. Why, lad, what does it mean? Have you been deceiving us all this time? cried Jasper, as Trahearn leaned on him, looking exhausted but truly happy. It means that I am not to be a cripple all my life, that they did not deceive me when they said a sudden shock might electrify me with a more potent magnetism than any they could apply. It has, and if I am cured, I owe it all to you, Octavia. He stretched his hands to her with a gesture of such passionate gratitude that the girl covered her face to hide its traitorous tenderness, and my lady went to him, saying brokenly, as she embraced him with maternal warmth. God bless you for this act, Maurice, and reward you with a perfect cure. To you I owe the lives of both my children. How can I thank you as I ought? I dare not tell you yet, he whispered eagerly, then added, I am going faint and get me away before I make a scene. This hint recalled my lady to her usual state of dignified self-possession. Bidding Jasper and the Major helped her herd to his room without delay, she begged Rose to comfort her sister, who was sobbing hysterically, and as they all obeyed her, she led her daughter away to her own apartment, for the festivities of the evening were at an end. At the same time Mrs. Snowden and Anon bade my lady good night, as if they also were about to retire. But as they reached the door of the gallery, Mrs. Snowden paused and beckoned Anon back. They were alone now, and standing before the fire, which had so nearly made that Christmas Eve a tragical one, she turned to him with a face full of interest and sympathy as she said, nodding toward the blackened shreds of Octavia's dress, and the scorched tiger skin which still lay at their feet. That was both a fortunate and an unfortunate little affair, but I fear Maurice's gain will be your loss. Pardon my frankness for Octavia's sake. She is a fine creature, and I long to see her given to one worthy of her. I am a woman to read faces quickly. I know that your suit does not prosper as you would have it, and I desire to help you. May I? Indeed you may, and command any service of me in return. But to what do I owe this unexpected friendliness? cried Anon, both grateful and surprised. To my regard for the young lady, my wish to save her from an unworthy man. Do you mean Trahearne? asked Anon, more and more amazed. I do. Octavia must not marry a gambler. My dear lady, you labor under some mistake. Trahearne is by no means a gambler. I owe him no good will, but I cannot hear him slandered. You are generous, but I am not mistaken. Can you on your honor assure me that Maurice never played? Mrs. Snowden's keen eyes were on him, and he looked embarrassed for a moment, but answered with some hesitation. Why, no, I cannot say that, but I can assure you that he is not an habitual gambler. All young men of his rank play more or less, especially abroad. It is merely an amusement with most, and among men is not considered dishonorable or dangerous. Ladies think differently, I believe, at least in England. At the word abroad, Mrs. Snowden's face brightened, and she suddenly dropped her eyes as if afraid of betraying some secret purpose. Indeed we do, and well we may, many of us having suffered from this pernicious habit. I have had special cause to dread and condemn it, and the fear that Octavia should in time suffer what I have suffered as a girl urges me to interfere where otherwise I should be done. Mr. Non, there was a rumor that Maurice was forced to quit Paris, owe into some dishonorable practices at the gaming table. Is this true? Nay, don't ask me. Upon my soul I cannot tell you. I only know that something was amiss, but what I never learned. Various tales were whispered at the clubs, and Sir Jasper indignantly denied them all. The bravery with which Maurice saved his cousin, and the sad affliction which fell upon him silenced the gossip, and it was soon forgotten. Mrs. Snowden remained silent for a moment, with browsed knit in deep thought, while Anon uneasily watched her. Suddenly she glanced over her shoulder, drew nearer, and whispered cautiously. Did the rumors of which you speak charge him with? And the last word was breathed into Anon's ear almost inaudibly. He started, as if some new light broke on him, and stared at the speaker with a troubled face for an instant, saying hastily, No, but now you remind me that when an affair of that sort was discussed the other day, Trehearne looked very odd and rolled himself away, as if it didn't interest him. I can't believe it, and yet it may be something of the kind that would account for old Sir Jasper's whim, and Trehearne's steady denial of any knowledge of the cause. How in heaven's name did you learn this? My woman's wit suggested it, and my woman's will shall confirm or destroy the suspicion. My lady and Octavia evidently know nothing, but they shall, if there is any danger of the girls being won by him. You would not tell her, exclaimed Anon. I will, unless you do it, was the firm answer. Never, to betray a friend, even to gain the woman I love, is a thing I cannot do. My honor forbids it. Mrs. Snowden smiled scornfully. Men's code of honor is a strong one, and we poor women suffer from it. Leave this to me. Do your best, and if all other means fail, you may be glad to try my device to prevent Maurice from marrying his cousin. Gratitude and pity are strong allies, and if he recovers, his strong will will move heaven and earth to gain her. Good night. And leaving her last words to wrinkle in Anon's mind, Mrs. Snowden departed to endure sleepless hours full of tormenting memories, newborn hopes, and alternations of determination and despair. Trehearn's prospect of recovery filled the whole house with delight, for his patient courage and unfailing cheerfulness had endeared him to all. It was no transient amendment, for day by day he steadily gained strength and power, passing rapidly from chair to crutches, from crutches to a cane at a friend's arm, which was always ready for him. Pain returned with returning vitality, but he bore it with a fortitude that touched all who witnessed it. At times motion was torture, yet motion was necessary lest the torpedoity should return. And Trehearn took his daily exercise with unfailing perseverance, saying with a smile, though great drops stood upon his forehead, I have something dearer even than health to win. Hold me up, Jasper, and let me stagger on, in spite of everything, till my twelve turns are made. He remembered Lady Trehearn's words. If you were well, I'd gladly give my girl to you. This inspired him with strength, endurance, and a happiness which could not be concealed. It overflowed in looks, words, and acts. It infected everyone, and made these holidays the blithest the old Abbey had seen for many a day. Anon devoted himself to Octavia, and in spite of her command to be left in peace till the New Year, she was very kind. So kind, that hope flamed up in his heart, though he saw that something like compassion often shone on him from her frank eyes, and her compliance had no touch of the tender docility which lovers longed to see. She still avoided Trehearn, but so skillfully that few observed the change but Anon and himself. In public, Sir Jasper appeared to worship at the Spritely Roses Shrine, and she fancied her game was prospering well. But had anyone peeped behind the scenes, it would have been discovered that during the half-hour before dinner, when everyone was in their dressing rooms and the general taking his nap, a pair of ghostly black figures flitted about the haunted gallery, where no servant ventured without orders. The major fancied himself the only one who had made this discovery, for Mrs. Snowden affected Trehearn's society in public, and was assiduous in serving and amusing the dear convalescent as she called him. But the general did not sleep. He too watched and waited, longing yet treading to speak, and hoping that this was but a harmless freak of Edith's, for her caprices were many, and till now he had indulged them freely. This hesitation disgusted the major, who being a bachelor knew little of women's ways and less of their powers of persuasion. The day before New Year he took a sudden resolution and demanded a private interview with the general. I have come on an unpleasant errand, Sir. He abruptly began, as the old man received him with an expression which rather daunted the major. My friendship for Lady Trehearn and my guardianship of her children makes me jealous of the honour of the family. I fear it is in danger, Sir. Pardon me for saying it, but your wife is the cause. May I trouble you to explain, Major Royston, was all the general's reply, as his old face grew stern and haughty. I well, Sir, briefly. I happen to know from Jasper that there were love passages between Miss Dewberry and himself a year or more ago in Paris. A whim parted them, and she married. So far no reproach rest upon either, but since she came here it has been evidenced to others as well as myself, that Jasper's affection has revived, and that Mrs. Snowden does not reject and reprovert as she should. They often meet, and from Jasper's manner I am convinced that mischief is afloat. He is ardent, headstrong, and utterly regardless of the world's opinion in some cases. I have watched them, and what I tell you is true. Prove it. I will. They meet in the North Gallery, wrapped in dark cloaks, and play ghost if anyone comes. I concealed myself behind the screen last evening at dusk, and satisfied myself that my suspicions were correct. I heard little of their conversation, but that little was enough. Repeat it, if you please. Sir Jasper seemed pleading for some promise which she reluctantly gave, saying, While you live, I will be true to my word with everyone but him. He will suspect, and it will be useless to keep it from him. He will shoot me for this if he knows I am the traitor, expostulated Jasper. He shall not know that. I can hoodwink him easily and serve my purpose also. You are mysterious, but I leave all to you and wait for my reward. When shall I have it, Edith? She laughed, and answered so low I could not hear, for they left the gallery as they spoke. Forgive me, general, for the pain I inflict. You are the only person to whom I have spoken, and you are the only person who can properly and promptly prevent this affair from bringing open shame and scandal on an honorable house. To you I leave it, and will do my part with this infatuated young man if you will withdraw the temptation which will ruin him. I will. Thank you, Major. Trust me, and by tomorrow I will prove that I can act as becomes me. The grief and misery in the general's face touched the Major. He silently wrung his hand and went away, thanking Heaven more fervently than ever that no cursed caquette of a woman had it in her power to break his heart. While this scene was going on above, another was taking place in the library. Trahearn sat there alone, thinking happy thoughts evidently, for his eyes shone and his lips smiled as he mused, while watching the splendors of a winter sunset. A soft rustle and the faint scent of violence warned him of Mrs. Snowden's approach, and a sudden foreboding told him that danger was near. The instant he saw her face, his fear was confirmed, for exultation, resolve, and love met and mangled in the expression at war. Leaning in the window recess, where the red light shone full on her lovely face and queenly figure, she said softly yet with a ruthless accent below the softness. Dreaming dreams, Maurice, which will never come to pass unless I will it. I know your secret, and I shall use it to prevent the fulfillment of the foolish hope you cherish. Who told you? He demanded with an almost fierce flash of the eye and an angry flush. I discovered it, as I warned you I should. My memory is good. I recall the gossip of long ago. I observe the faces, words, and acts of those whom I suspect, and unconscious hints from them give me the truth. I doubt it, and Trahearn smiled securely. She stooped and whispered one short sentence into his ear. Whatever it was, it caused him to start up with a pale, panic-stricken face and eye her as if she had pronounced his doom. Do you doubt it now? She asked coldly. He told you. Even your skill and craft could not discover it alone, he muttered. Nay, I told you nothing was impossible to a determined woman. I needed no help, for I knew more than you think. He sank down again in a despairing attitude and hid his face, saying mournfully, I might have known you would hunt me down and dash my hopes when they were surest. How will you use this unhappy secret? I will tell Octavia and make her duty less hard. It will be kind to both of you, for even with her this memory would mar your happiness, and it saves her from the shame and grief of discovering, when too late, that she has given herself to a stop, he cried, in a tone that made her start and pale, as he rose out of his chair, white with a stern indignation which awed her for a moment. You shall not utter that word. You know but half the truth, and if you wrong me or trouble the girl, I will turn traitor also and tell the general the game you are playing with my cousin. You feigned to love me as you feigned before, but his title is debate now as then, and you fancy that by threatening to mar my hopes you will secure my silence and gain your end. Wrong. Quite wrong. Jasper is nothing to me. I use him as a tool, not you. If I threaten, it is to keep you from Octavia, who cannot forgive the past, and love you for yourself, as I have done all these miserable months. You say I know but half the truth. Tell me the whole, and I will spare you. If ever a man was tempted to betray a trust, it was to her and then. A word, and Octavia might be his. Silence, and she might be lost. For this woman was an earnest, and possessed the power to ruin his good name for ever. The truth leaped to his lips, and would have passed them, had not his eye fallen on the portrait of Jasper's father. This man had loved and sheltered the orphan all his life, had made of him a son, and dying, urged him to guard and serve and save the rebellious youth he left when most needing a father's care. I promised, and I will keep my promise at all costs, sighed Trahearne, and with the gesture full of pathetic patience he waved the fair tempter from him, saying steadily, I will never tell you, though you rob me of that which is dearer than my life. Go and work your will, but remember that when you might have won the deepest gratitude of the man you profess to love, you chose instead to earn his hatred and contempt. Waiting for no word of hers, he took refuge in his room, and Edith Snowden sank down upon the couch, struggling with contending emotions of love and jealousy, remorse, and despair. How long she sat there, she could not tell. An approaching step recalled her to herself, and looking up she saw Octavia. As the girl approached down the long vista of the drawing-rooms, her youth and beauty, innocence, and candor touched that fairer and more gifted woman with an envy she had never known before. Something in the girl's face struck her instantly. A look of peace and purity, a sweet serenity, more winning than loveliness, more impressive than dignity or grace. With a smile on her lips, yet a half-sad, half-tender light in her eyes, and a cluster of pale winter roses in her hand, she came on till she stood before her rival, and offering the flowers, said in words a simple essence here. Dear Mrs. Snowden, I cannot let the last son of the old years set on any misdeeds of mine for which I may atone. I have disliked, distressed, and misjudged you, and now I come to you in all humility to say, forgive me. With the girlish abandon of her impulsive nature, Octavia knelt down before the woman who was plotting to destroy her happiness, laid the roses like a little piece offering on her lap, and with eloquently pleading eyes waited for pardon. For a moment Mrs. Snowden watched her, fancying a well-acted ruse to disarm a dangerous rival. But in that sweet face there was no art. One glance showed her that. The words smote her to the heart, and won her in spite of pride or passion, as she suddenly took the girl into her arms, weeping repentant tears. Neither spoke, but in the silence each felt the barrier which had stood between them vanishing, and each learned to know the other better in that moment than in a year of common life. Octavia rejoiced that the instinct which had prompted her to make this appeal had not misled her, but assured her that behind the veil of coldness, pride, and levity, which this woman wore, there was a heart aching for sympathy and help and love. Mrs. Snowden felt her worser self slip from her, leaving all that was true and noble to make her worthy of the test applied. Art she could meet with equal art, but nature conquered her. For spite of her misspent life and faulty character, the germ of virtue which lives in the worst was there, only waiting for the fostering son and due of love to strengthen it, even though the harvest be a late one. Forgive you, she cried brokenly. It is I who should ask forgiveness of you, I who should atone, confess, and repent. Pardon me, pity me, love me, for I am more rich than you know. Dear, I do with heart and soul, believe it, and let me be your friend, was the soft answer. God knows I need one, side the poor woman, still holding fast the only creature who had wholly won her. Child, I am not good, but not so bad that I dare not look in your innocent face and call you friend. I never had one of my own sex. I never knew my mother, and no one ever saw in me the possibility of goodness, truth, and justice but you. Trust and love and help me, Octavia, and I will reward you with a better life if I can do no more. I will, and the new year shall be happier than the old. God bless you for that prophecy, may I be worthy of it. Then, as Abel warned them away, the rivals kissed each other tenderly and parted friends. As Mrs. Snowden entered her room, she saw her husband sitting with his gray head in his hands and heard him murmur despairingly to himself. My life makes her miserable, but for the sin of it I die to free her. No. Live for me, and teach me to be happy in your love. The clear voice startled him, but not so much as the beautiful changed face of the wife who laid the gray head on her bosom, saying tenderly, My kind and patient husband, you have been deceived. From me you shall know all the truth, and when you have forgiven my faulty past, you shall see how happy I will try to make your future.