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"It was a false position, certainly," replied Lionel Dacre. "This secret must be kept inviolate," said Lord Earle. "Lord Airlie must never know it it would kill Lady Helena, I believe. One thing puzzles me, Lionel Fernely says Lillian met him. I do not think that is true." "It is!" cried Lionel, a sudden light breaking in upon him. "I saw her with him. Oh, Lord Earle, you may be proud of Lillian!
He signed to Hewson to leave the room, and, placing the letter upon the table, resumed his melancholy watch. But in some strange way his thoughts wandered to the missive. What might it not contain, brought to him, too, in the solemn death chamber? He opened it, and found many sheets of closely covered paper. On the first was written "The Confession of Hugh Fernely." The name told him nothing.
Come what might, Hugh Fernely said to himself, he must see her again. On the following morning he saw the girls return to the cliff. Lillian finished her picture.
The letter reached Brookfield at noon the following day. When Hugh Fernely opened it he bit his lips with rage. Cold, heartless lines! Not one word was there of welcome. Not one of sorrow for his supposed death; no mention of love, truth, or fidelity; no promise that she would be his. What could such a letter mean? He almost hated the girl whom he had loved so well.
If Lord Airlie ever discovered that any other man had called her his love, had kissed her face, and claimed her as his own, she would lose his affection. Of that she was also quite sure. If she would remain at Earlescourt, if she would retain her father's affection and Lord Airlie's love, they must never hear of Hugh Fernely. There could be no doubt on that head. What should she do with him?
Brilliant pictures of foreign lands filled my mind; I looked upon Hugh Fernely only as a means of escape from a life I detested. He promised to take me to places the names of which filled me with wonder. I never thought of leaving you or mamma I never thought of the man himself as of a lover." "You did not care for him, then, as you do for Lord Airlie?" interposed Lillian.
If she tells me so, I will believe her." "She will tell you," said Lillian, "and you must not blame her. Come again when she is well." "No," returned Hugh Fernely; "I have waited long enough. I am here to see her, and I swear I will not leave until she has spoken to me." He drew a pencil case from his pocket, and wrote a few lines on the envelope which Beatrice had sent.
Three weeks, yet nothing had happened. Beatrice had watched each day begin and end until her heart grew faint with fear; she was as far as ever from finding herself freed from Hugh Fernely. Lord Airlie, on his arrival, was startled by the change in her brilliant face. Yet he was flattered by it. He thought how intensely she must love him if his absence could affect her so strongly.
Hugh Fernely took the letter from Lillian's hands, and read it with a muttered imprecation of disappointment. The moon, which had been struggling for the last hour with a mass of clouds, shone out faintly; by its light Lillian saw a tall man with a dark, handsome face browned with the sun of warm climes, dark eyes that had in them a wistful sadness, and firm lips.
The night wind moaned fitfully among the trees; the branches of the tall lime trees swayed over her head; the fallen leaves twirled round her feet. She crossed the gardens; the moon cast strange shadows upon the broad paths. At length she saw the shrubbery gate, and, by it, erect and motionless, gazing on the bending trees in the park, was Hugh Fernely.
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