THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
not known. I am informed that she did not leave 
his side, except to snatch a few hour’s rest, un¬ 
til he expired.” 
“ Perhaps her looks had ceased to shock him,” 
suggested the Colonel. “ They may have improved 
with her growth.” 
1 believe not. I have not seen Miss carls- 
forde, for she shuns strangers; hut the Viscount, 
when dictating his last bequests, told me with a 
sigh that, In spite of her goodness, he has found 
it very dllllcult to reconcile himself to her appear¬ 
ance, for she was in ail respects the very antitype 
of her lovely mother.” 
“ The will, sir—let us have the will!' cried Mrs. 
Estcourt, who detested suspense. 
“You shall, madam; but as Miss Carlsforde is a 
party concerned, I should wish her to be present 
and at the la wyer’s request Noel touched the bell 
at his elbow. “ All that I have to say in conclu¬ 
sion is, that the young lady's filial at tentions made 
her father regret that. h« had estranged himself 
from her so long, atid he bade me tell you. Lord 
Carlsforde, that In framing this, his last will and 
testament, he bore In mind not only your claims 
as the successor to his title, but hers as his only 
child: and he lias so worded It as to atone to his 
daughter (or past neglect, and to your lordship for 
his inability—consistent with Justice to another— 
to give you the estates as well as the peerage,” 
“Young man,” exclaimed Colonel Jenklnson, 
ruining solemnly to the half-stunned Noel, and 
shaking Ills hand. “I am very sorry for you. it 
Is hard extremely hard upon a lad ol spirit to be 
pulled up short just as he thought he had a fair 
field before him. But discipline your mind to 
endure defeats. There's nothing like discipline; 
nd it you feel inclined to enter the army—it’s the 
finest profession In the world—why, come to us. 
We'll give you a hearty Avelcome, and make a good 
soldier of you.” 
“Oh! this is dreadful!” walled Mrs. Estcourt, 
drawing out her handkerchief. “My poor chil¬ 
dren ! what will become of you If your unnatural 
brother deserts you? lie ought not to have ex¬ 
posed me to this dreadful-dreadful disappoint¬ 
ment !” 
“Thelady talks as If she were the party ag¬ 
grieved,” the Colonel observed, in Mr. Whltely’s 
ear; while Noel, by hinting that she must consent 
to leave the. room unless she ccmposed herself, 
prevailed upon her to he silent. 
A servant now appeared, who was sent tore- 
quest the presence of the Honorable Ada Oaris- 
forde; and Noel Estcourt reseated himself, his 
curiosity to know the precise position In which he 
would find himself, overcoming in some measure 
his regret that he had cherished expectations 
which were not to be fulfilled. 
chapter nr. 
THE READING OF THE WILL. 
The servant sent to summon Miss Carlsforde to 
the reading of her father’s will returned In a few 
minutes with her excuses. She would much pre¬ 
fer, she said, to leave her interests m the hands of 
the gentleman who bad guarded the viscount’s so 
faithfully; but If It was absolutely necessary that 
some one should be present, might she not he rep¬ 
resented by her friend and companion. Miss Hll- 
11 an Gray? 
Mr. Whltely demurred a little. He preferred to 
do business with the principal, he observed, rather 
Ptltlly. H however. Miss Carlsforde felt Incapable 
of appearing, why there was no help for It, though 
he still hoped she would make the effort. 
The messenger returned a second time to say 
that his young lady did not feel equal to the effort, 
and Mr. Whltely muttered a peevish expression as 
he looked at his watch. 
“Then by all means let us have Miss Gray, for 
my time Is up. 1 wish ladles would remember 
that a professional man can ill afford to be kept 
waiting while they are making up their minds.” 
“ I should have liked to see my old friend's daugh¬ 
ter,” Colonel Jenklnson observed, regretfully. 
“ Poor thing,” said Mr. Whltely, already repents 
ing his testy speech; “I am told that she Is so 
very sensitive about her looks that she lias not. 
taken an occasional airing in the grounds slaeo 
she has been here without, hiding her face behind 
a thick veil. They do hint that she Is positively 
repulsive. A great-a very great misfortune for a 
girl In her position. Perhaps If M rs. Estcourt, as 
a relative, were to kindly go to her—" 
“ I am not a relative," was the prompt reply, 
“and my nerves are in such a. weak state that I 
really could not expose myself to further shocks, 
ft was very inconsiderate of Noel to bring me here, 
knowing how unequal I am to any agitation.” 
Her stepson opened Ills eyes, but said nothing, 
it was not worth while to remind her that she had 
literally forced herself upon him; and there was a 
short pause, during which the colonel had re¬ 
course to lus moustache, Noel, growing restless, 
rose and walked to the window; Sirs. Estcourt 
sighed and sniffed dolorously, while sir. Whltely 
fidgeted with his papers, and finally jumped up to 
ring another peal on the bell. 
“The companion is as thoughtless as her mis¬ 
tress. Anyone would think that my time is of no 
consequence, oh! here is Miss-Gray, isn’t It? 
You are very welcome, young lady ; for I have an 
appointment at eight o'clock, and cannot afford to 
he kept here any longer.” 
He spoke so brusquely, that the shy, pale girl 
who had timidly hesitated on the threshold, ap¬ 
peared half Inclined to retreat again. When Mr. 
Whltely placed a chair for her. she advanced a few 
steps; but only to make another doubtful pause as 
the voice of Sirs. Estcourt reached her ear. 
“ I neither understand why we have been kept 
waiting for t ills young person, nor why she Is here 
at all. In a family-meeting, sucii as this ought to 
he, It Is not pleasant to have one's most important 
i lucorns discussed before a dependent ” 
The girl to whom this gratuitous Insult; was di¬ 
rected shivered and retreated. But while she did 
so, Instinctively she cast an appealing glance at the 
male occupants of (he room, as If in mute entreaty 
ve that they would protect her from the shrUI-tongued 
m- woman who thus coarsely protested against her 
presence. Perhaps her eye, attracted by the tall 
k ' figure standing at the window, may have rested 
ed there a moment longer than on the others, and 
Noel answered the appeal It conveyed by crossing 
Is- the room and placing himself beside her. 
d> “ You forget, madam,” he said to Mrs. Estcourt, 
a In tones stern enough to frighten her into better 
id behaviour—“you forget that this young lady ae- 
r * cepts this unpleasant office to oblige Miss carls- 
?e forde and me.” 
Taking Hilllan Gray by the hand, he lead her to 
s. her seat, and then, by asking a few trivial ques¬ 
tions of Mr. Whltely. gave her time to wipe away 
a the tears that were stealing down her pale cheeks. 
But for his stepmother's ill-nature, he might 
II neither have wasted look nor thought on the 
t- modest little companion of the Honorable Ad i 
e Carlsforde; but now he could, not resist glancing 
If across the table once or twice to see If she had re- 
d covered her composure. From these furtive glances 
d he discovered that site had one of the sweetest 
s faces he ever beheld. By no stretch of Imagina- 
v tlon could she have been called beautiful, lor her 
s features were irregular; taken separately, none of 
r them were good except her eyes, whloh were so 
dark a hazel as to be almost black. Noel thought 
that timid, tearful illllian Gray, with her black 
, dress dusty and munplod—as if she had been lying 
j down with a headache when •summoned to the 
t drawing-room—and her bail- rough ami partially 
, unbraided, had one ol the most feminine, winning 
countenances that he had ever beheld. 
, But while Noel was thinking this, Mr. Whltely 
; wafi wading through the customary preamble, 
i reading with a deliberation that provoked mis 
E stcourt terribly. The will was unusually short 
and simple, tor Lord Carlsforde had formed no 
friendships during the latter years m his life, and 
had outlived those ol his youth, with the exception 
of his r/rnniKivd'h rtr for colonel Jenklnson. who 
was remembered wit h a massive service of plate. 
To each and all Jils servants he bequeathed 
twelvemonth's wages, but to the heir to Ms title, 
nothing; for all his property, real or personal, was 
devised to his beloved and long-neglected daughter 
Ada. 
Though Noel’s heart sank when he heard this 
and knew that he should leave t he. Park as poor a 
man as when he entered, Ids regrets were trifling 
ones compared to his stepmother’s. Fortunately 
for everyone present her warring emotions deprived 
her of her power of speech, and the lawyer was 
able to proceed with the reading of a codicil he now- 
produced. 
After giving directions that a favorite horse 
should be shot, the Viscount had appended an ex¬ 
planation ol his motives for the seeming injustice 
which rendered his heir a landless peer." 
“Since I have known and loved my child,” were 
the words of the document, “ I have, craved to live 
for her sake. This is denied me, but I cannot die 
till I have made some reparation for the past as 
wen as a fitting provision for her future. Her mis¬ 
fortunes debar her from being sought. In marriage 
for herself, and therefore l feel that i shall best 
secure her happiness by leaving to her dl 1 possess, 
subject to the condition that she shall give it with 
her hand to my successor in the peerage, Noel 
Estcourt.” 
** I solemnly enjoin the said Noel Estcourt,—of 
whom 1 have heard sucii a good report that I can 
have no hesitation In trusting hlrn-to he a good 
and faithful spouse to Ada my daughter, and not to 
slight or neglect her on account of her unhappy 
want of comeliness; to treat her always with the 
consideration and courtesy due to her rank; and if 
she continues to think ll best that she should live 
In seclusion, to let her fix her residence wherever 1 
she pleases; and also in take care that she lxas a 
sufficient annual allowance to enable her to gratify ) 
every reasonable desire.” ‘ i 
“ I believe this Is all, my lord,” the lawyer f lowly 
said, as he ca.ne to the bottom of the page. “ I 
must beg you to understand that I had no part, in 1 
the wording of this win. I hope,” he added, with - 
a faint attempt to be jocular, “ that, the young * 
lady and gentleman whom it most directly con- 1 
cerns, will find no difficulty in complying with its J 
behests. Then your lordship will be able to keep 
up the ancient, prestige ol your name, and Miss 1 
Carlsforde will—I say this without a thonglit of 1 
flattery—have to thank her father for providing 1 
her with a bridegroom who will do honor to his 1 
position.’ - 
“ It s—It’s dreadfully unjust!” groaned .Mrs. Est- t 
court. “ The property ought to have gone with 1 
the title.” y 
“It will do so if the present Lord carlsforde h 
agrees to the arrangement proposed by the late s 
one,” Mr. Whltely reminded her. b 
“ But this girl must be hideous—positively hid- 11 
cous! What a sacrifice for Noel to make! and I b 
had planned everything so nicely! Wo should 
have been very happy here, especially it we could a 
have kepi him to ourselves lor a few years; but 1 a 
am doomed to be unfortunate l” ti 
“Hush, motherf” said Noel, taking her hand n 
kindly. “We will still try to be nappy. At. what a 
time will you be ready to return to town?” n: 
Mrs. Estcourl’s face lengthened. a 
“Must wo go back directly? No, no! Why V\ 
should we? Of course, the will must be acted p< 
upon, l will be tlio first to see Miss carlsforde, rr 
and endea vor to accustom myself to her; and then v 
you—” vv 
“Pay any kind attentions to Miss Carts forde w 
that your heart dictates,” Noel Interposed, "lie- rt 
main here with her if she l'eels her loneliness, and 
wishes you to do so; but do not Imagine lor a 
moment that. 1 coulcl ever be so despicable as to t) 
entertain the idea of marrying a girl I have never Pi 
seen, and whom it would he impossible to love.” 
“Hush-hush! my dear lord," whispered the 7 
lawyer. “Don’t make rash resolves, nor forget v, 
that we are not alone.” 
Noel glanced in the direction of Lillian Gray ! ‘ 
but was only in time to catch a glimpse of her ** 
black skirts as she noiselessly fl itted from the room. .' 
However, he did not doubt that she had heard vo 
ed Ills last words, and would repeat them to the heir- 
er ess; and so far from regretting them as rash, he 
• 1 rejoiced that neither Miss Carisforde nor her 
^ fi ieuds would bo able to accuse liiru ol any mer¬ 
it* cenary wavering, lie wished, though, on second 
thoughts, that he had not spoken of the poor 
ice)use as a girl for whom it would be impossible 
“ 10 feel fihJ' affection. Had not her affliction been 
brought before her forcibly enough without its 
bitterness being increased by his emphatic declar- 
s- atlon ? 
11 It’s a splendid property." Air. Wliilely went, on 
0 10 88 Y- : ‘ Lord Carisforde occasionally spent large 
sums; but his estates were productive and would 
y bear it. t hope, my lord, i shall live to see you 
l master of Carisforde. not in name only—” 
“listen in me -pray listen for one moment!” 
e cri’ieil Mrs. Estcourt. who had been vainly endeav- 
* orlng to get a hearing, and now saw that, her step¬ 
son was on the point or repeating his former 
- declaration, “Noel must have time given him 
s ioi' consideration, it. will never do for him robe 
t bound by anything he has said to-ulght. He is 
vexed--disappointed; he. is smarting under a sense 
>' of having been unfairly treated; he cannot view 
1 the Viscount s will in the favorable lfghl to which 
J 1 am beginning to regard it. M e shall stay here, 
Mr. Whltely; rye shall make the acquaintance of 
our young relative, and if she is as amiable as yon 
f describe her-” 
But Noel would hear no more, lie flung off the 
hand that lay on his sleeve, and entreated AUs 
' Estcourt to desist. 
“ 1L is impossible, mother, for me to act as you 
AMrh. 'I he late Lord carlstorde’s money was his 
own, and he was justified in bequeathing if to his 
only child Remember, that it it. were not for her 
sex. she would have inherited with It the title that 
Is so useless to me.” 
“ It would not he useless If you -” 
•Jtr consented to become a pensioner on the 
bounty of my young kinswoman ? Never!” 
Air. Whltely was so interested in the A'oungman’s 
decision, that he forgot his haste, and stayed to 
say: f 
“ but, my dear sir. ff you will not. embrace the 
opportunity offered to you—if you will not. try and 
win the heiress, what will you do?” 
“ jes. Noel—ves; Mr. Whitelyis quite right In 
asking tiffs!” died Mrs. Estcourt. “ You must I 
not let your pride make you selfishly forgetful of 
my claims." 
“ l will never lie that,” lie answered, with a sigh. I 
“ but neither will I stoop to a mercenary marriage. 
I would rather go back to London and return to 
my situation, if Messrs. Nivert, will consent, to rein- I 
stare me.” 
“ \ iscount, Carlsforde, the last ol an ancient line, I 
a clerk in a banking house! Oh! it Is too absurd!” I 
“Nay, mother; when 1 quit this house I shall 
lay aside a title which Is useless to me." 
Mrs. Estcourt wrung her hands. 
And leave this splendid estate to a chit of a 
glrl who never ought to have lived! Don’t tell me 
it's unfeeling to talk in tiffs way! I hate her!” 
“But I do not," answered Noel, quietly. “I owe I 
her no grudge, l shall try not to caret aught, she I 
possesses, but regard what has passed as one of 
those delusive dreams with which Fortune some¬ 
times tricks us." 
“ but to go back to town!” sobbed Mis. Estcourt 
—“ to the old house—the old life—to be as poor, as 
pinched as betore! Oli! Noel, Is there no middle 
course ? Have you no pity for me ?” 
-Yes, yes l there la-there shall be!” said Air. 
Whltely, melted by her tears, even though they 
were shed solely for herself. <• i will make a point 
of haring a little talk with Miss Carisforde on the 
subject. She is bound to do something for your 
loi dslffp. She would be the most ungenerous of 
girls if she did not agree to settle a handsome I 
annuity on you.” 
Noel drew himself up proudly. 
“ 1 beg that you will not do anytlff ngor the kind. 
I have already said that I distinctly decline to he 
Miss Carisforde's pensioner. Had her father and I 1 
been more nearly akin, or ff he had ever held out 
hopes Mini l should receive any legacy at his death, 
1 should then have reason to consider myself ag¬ 
grieved. As It Is, though T may regret that your 
professional reserve or Ignorance of my real posi¬ 
tion prevented you from warning me that my real 
portion would he an empty title, I will not impute 1 
blame to any one.” 
Mr. Wlfftely was a kind-hearted man; and 1 
though he thought the young man too scrupulous 1 
in refusing to woo an ugly bride, whose tocher 1 
would be sucii an ample one. he felt truly sorry for 
him. Bur he was In a hurry, and contented him- ? 
self v.Uh shaking Noel by tile hand warmly, and 
begging him to write to his address it he altered ' 
ids mind, or there were any other way In which, g 
by bis advice or lntiuenee, he could serve him. A 
Noel thanked him gratefully, and they wercsep- » 
uniting with mutual expressions of good-will,when 
a stifled shriek and a heavy fall made them both t 
turn hurriedly to Mrs. Estcourt, She, poor woman, 
never accustomed to exercise much self-control, * 
and now compelled to see that Noel was deter¬ 
mined 10 act for himself, was suffocating with rage 
and disappointment. She wanted to detain Mr. „ 
Whltely, to induce him to aid her in one more ap¬ 
peal to her obstinate stepson; but her emotion ,, 
robbed her ot speech, and she fell Upon the floor, 
writhing and moaning so convulsively, that Noel 
who had learned to endure her hysterical attacks t 
with stoical composure, saw Hint, she was now 
really ill, and hurried to her assistance. d 
Mr. Whltely rang for the housekeeper, the near¬ 
est dne tor was sent for, and his remedies abated I a 
the violence of the attack; but as lie recommend¬ 
ed lhat lffs patient should be removed to bed, and si 
positively declared her return to town or even re- tl 
moval to a hotel impossible, the Intensely annoyed 
Noel saw that he should be compelled to spend tx 
this one night, H no more, beneath the rooi of the b 
heiress for whose sake his own claims had been w 
set aside so completely, and, we may add, so pro- h 
vokfngly. n , 
(To be continued,.) I 
WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. 
(Continued from page 222 .) 
CHAPTER XLY. 
It was a pleasant ewenlng; the dinner-party Avas 
bright and cheerful, and after dinner the guests 
had music, cards, and conversation. More than 
once Lady Chevenix made room for Felix near her 
and talked to him. But, If Lady chevenix was un¬ 
usually kind. Airs. Haye was unusually cold to 
lffm ; whenever she saw her daughter talking to 
him, under some pretext or other she interrupted 
the conversation. She tried to pa li onise him ; but 
all efforts at patronage recoiled upon herself. 
There are some men who never will he patronized, 
and he was one ; his natural pride and dignity of 
character quite prevented it. 
The evening vvas a pleasant one. Lady Cheve- 
uix was a charming hostess ; she neglected no one. 
She had the rare gift of making every one feel per¬ 
fectly at. home, and each one separately seemed to 
he her most favored guest. Felix could not help 
contrasting t hat visit with his last, when she had 
suffered such tortures of anxiety and humiliation. 
He could not help thinking of the unhappy uian 
who had died so .voting, a victim to his own folly— 
the man who had once been master of all this 
wealth and had made bad use of it. 
It was a pleasant evening, if Felix had been 
more vain, he must have seen with what great 
respect and consideration he was treated—how 
Lady t'lievenlx deferred to lffm on every' point- 
how she consulted lffs tastes, Ills wishes, his con¬ 
venience. If he had been more vain, he would 
have been more nattered by it—he would have 
seen it. But he did not. The chief thing that 
struck him was the coldness and reserve of Mrs. 
Haye. 
During the next few days father and son worked 
hard ; they rose early and did not leave work until 
it was time to prepare for dinner. Daj-cy Lons¬ 
dale declared that Lady Chevenix would spoil lffm. 
She devoted herself almost entirely to their com¬ 
fort ; she studied them. 
At. the end of the third day there yet remained 
three or four hours’ hard work. 
“We must go to-morrow," said Darcy; ** we 
must leave the first thing in the morning, let what 
will happen.” 
Felix decided to go back to his writing Immedi¬ 
ately after dinner, and not to pause again until he 
had finished. That was the only plan. Lady 
Chevenix smiled thoughtfully when she heard It. 
“ it trill he best,” she agreed. “ i will see that 
Felix has a cheerful fire and refreshments. Row 
good you both are to work so hard over mv 
affairs!” 
So when the dinner was ended, Felix went back 
to tlie library and began to write. Lady Chevenix 
sent: him a cup of her favorite m/e note. Later on 
a servant carried In a rerreshment-tray, which 
was placed on a table near lffm. He heard the 
sound of music and laughter, which, as night 
drew on, ceased. Ills father came in and said, 
“Good night" to him; and then silence fell over 
the house. 
CHAPTER XLV1I. 
As Felix Lonsclale wrote busily, there came to 
lffm the memory of a story he. had read In which 
a lawyer like himself had sat, alone In the library 
of a country-house, and the spirit of its dead 
owner came to tell him of some wrong that he 
had done in his life. 
"It is a pleasant thought,;” smiled Felix to 
himself; and then he was startled for a moment 
A faint odor of violets lloated near him, and, look¬ 
ing up, he saw Lady Chevenix. 
She was standing by his side, looking down on 
him with a light on her face that had not shone 
there for long years. Never had tiffs beautiful 
woman looked more beautiful than now, with her 
charming head bent over him, standing in the 
half-darkened room like a vision of light. The 
crimson glow of the fire and the soft radiance of 
the lamp on the table fell over her. She wore a 
very handsome dress, which showed her lovely 
shoulders, her Avlilte neck and rounded arms—a 
dress that in the ruddy firelight presented most 
marvelous lines. With It she Avore a diamond 
necklace, and diamond stars shone In the golden 
hair. 
There Avas something more than beauty In h»r 
face; he knew it the moment he raised lits eyes 
and saw her. There was loA'e—love such as had 
not shone there since she had bidden him rare well. 
The firelight gleamed on her jeweled hands, on her 
marvelous face, her golden hair. She stood before 
him In all the pride and magnificence of her 
wealth and her loveliness, a vision such as rarely 
greets the eyes of men. And, as he looked at her, 
Aritb somewhat of wonder and inquiry on his face, 
she sank slowly on her knees, and bent her head 
before, him. 
“Lady Chevenix,” he cried, “you must not do 
that! I cannot allow it!” 
She laid her hand on his arm—the hand on Avhlch 
shone her wedding-ring. 
“ Listen to me, Felix,” she said—and the sweet 
voice stirred unwontedly his heart and soul. “ I 
have waited impatiently for this hour. You are 
goffig aAvay to-morrow; and I must speak to you 
to-ifigut, Marian is m the ante-room’there; I 
brought her with me. i told her I must speak to 
you to-night, and she eamn at once. Felix, will 
you listen?” 
“How can I help but listen ?” he replied. “ What 
do you avIsU to say to me, Lady Chevenix ?” 
With a charming gesture of impatience she laid 
ailngeron Ills Ups. 
“ You must not call mo ‘Lady Chevenix,’” she 
said. “I am ‘Violet’ to you. Say ’Violet,’ aud 
then I will tell you what I came for.” 
Perhaps, if he had had time to prepare himself, 
to think matters over, to take some precautions, 
he would haA'e known better how to listen and 
Avliat to say. As It Avas, she seemed suddenly to 
have taken possession of him, of his whole 
nature. . 
“ You make me say what you will, Violet.” 
