Marion Arleigh's Penance by Charlotte M. Braeme

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Then she answered him, and again, for the first time in her life, she
sat with her pen in her hand, hardly knowing what to say. She had been
accustomed to writing page after page and never pausing. Since then
something seemed to have arisen in her life and to stand between them.
She did not care to tell him of the luxury of Thorpe Castle, the number
of visitors, the splendor of the entertainments.

"That will not interest him," she said; "his life is so different." A
strange sensation of uneasiness came over her as she remembered how
different it was. So she wrote a letter full of commonplaces, and when
Allan Lyster read it he bit his lips in fierce, hot anger.

"She is learning not to care for me already," he said. "She has never
written so coldly to me before."

Adelaide bade him to be of good cheer.

"I shall go to the castle at Christmas," she said, "and, rely upon it,
Allan, I will find an opportunity of sending for you. You need not be
anxious; there is no possible plea on which she can escape you now. If
you will take my advice you will not draw the chain too tightly; let her
feel that she is free."

Allan took her advice. He did not persecute her with letters; he wrote,
and filled his pages with love and flattery so sweet it could not tease
her.

And then when Christmas came around Adelaide filled the grand purpose of
her life--she went to Thorpe Castle. Her behavior there might have been
taken as a model. She was quite sure of Marion's affection, so she
devoted herself entirely to Lady Ridsdale; she waited upon her, she
solicited her advice, she administered to her the most delicate doses of
flattery. In short, she set herself to work to win Lady Ridsdale's
heart; but she did not succeed.

The mistress of Thorpe Castle did not like Miss Lyster; she merely
tolerated her, and that was for Marion's sake. With Lord Ridsdale she
succeeded better. Her subtle flattery and constant attentions made some
impression on him. He told his wife that Miss Lyster was a very amiable
girl, and he hoped she would often pass her vacation at Thorpe Castle.
My lady smiled suavely, and made no reply.

Adelaide wrote to her brother that he had no cause for fear.

"The first morning of my arrival," she said, "Marion took me to her
room, and we had a long talk about you. Have no fear; she is quite true
to you, and I have a scheme in my mind for getting you invited to the
castle."

One morning when Lady Ridsdale and Miss Arleigh were engaged with
visitors Adelaide asked if she might go through the picture-gallery.
Lord Ridsdale, flattered by the request, offered to go with her and show
her some of his especial favorites.

Miss Lyster was all enthusiasm, and she was tolerably well acquainted
with the first principles of art. She made some remarks that pleased and
interested his lordship. Then she was quite silent for some minutes,
and afterward sighed deeply. Lord Ridsdale looked at her. The sigh had
been such a profound one that he could not help taking some notice of
it.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "You are so kind, Lord Ridsdale, that I may tell you
of what I was thinking. I was wishing that this great privilege I now
enjoy could be given to my brother instead of me."

Lord Ridsdale looked benevolently interested, and she continued:

"I have but one relative in the world, an only brother, and he is an
artist. He lives on his art, and I was thinking what a privilege he
would consider it of what benefit it would be to him, if he could see
those pictures."

"Your brother is an artist! I see no reason why he should not profit by
this really beautiful collection of pictures. Would he like to visit
Thorpe Castle, do you think?"

"You are too kind, Lord Ridsdale. I should say it would be a glimpse of
paradise to him."

"Then by all means. Miss Lyster, write and ask him. I cannot extend the
invitation for any lengthened period, as we have so many visitors, but
if he will come for a week I shall be delighted to see him."

She thanked him until his lordship was in a perfect glow of benevolence
to think what a kind and generous action he had performed. His wife did
not look quite so pleased when he told her; but then, my Lord Ridsdale
was not a man of great observation.

CHAPTER X.

As a result of the conversation in the picture-gallery the young artist,
in compliance with an invitation of Lord Ridsdale, came over to Thorpe
Castle. Long before he came Marion had grown sick of the deception and
weary of the chains that bound her.

She was naturally so frank, so open, that the need for concealment
troubled her greatly. She had the warmest affection for Lady Ridsdale.
She would have liked above all things to have trusted and confided in
her. It was torture to the girl to think that she was helping others to
keep secret from her that which she ought to know. She shrank from Miss
Lyster. She no longer cared to be beguiled by long walks in the
shrubbery, to hear nothing but praises of "my brother," and the oft-told
tale of his love for her. Association with refined, honorable,
high-minded people was doing its work with her; anything approaching
deceit, falsehood or meanness revolted her.

Those were not the best possible dispositions in which Allan could find
her. He had not reckoned upon these better influences; he had not
thought that when she came to contrast his behavior with that of others
she would see how deficient in all honor and manliness it had been; he
trusted to the glamor of love, and behold! there had been no love on her
part; nothing but gratified vanity.

He was very pleased to go to Thorpe Castle--he thought nothing would
advance his cause more than for her to meet him among her own class,
meet him as her equal in some respects, if not in all.

"I am so happy," said Adelaide Lyster to her on the morning of the day
on which he was expected. "I am so very happy, Marion, and you"--

But no answering enthusiasm shone in Miss Arleigh's face, and Adelaide
noticed it.

"Allan will enjoy himself so much here," she continued. "Ah! Marion, the
sight of you will be like sunshine to flowers to him."

But Miss Arleigh did not look delighted; she was thinking more of how
she could keep such a secret from her good, kind guardians than of any
pleasure in meeting her lover.

He came; she lingered by Lady Ridsdale's side during his reception. The
thought did certainly pass through Lord Ridsdale's mind that Allan
Lyster was very young and very handsome to be drawing-master of a young
ladies' school; but not for the world would he have breathed such a
thought to any one living, lest it should injure him. Lord Ridsdale was
courtesy itself to his young guest. He pointed out to him the finest
pictures; he took him over the woods to show him where the most
picturesque scenery lay; he took him to the library and introduced to
his notice some of the finest works of art.

When they came to compare notes Lord and Lady Ridsdale quite disagreed
over Allan. The gentleman liked him, he thought him clever, gifted and
intellectual; Lady Ridsdale, with the keener sense belonging to women,
read his character more clearly.

"He is not true," she said. "His eyes have never once met mine with a
frank, clear look; either he has something to conceal, or his natural
disposition is anything but candid."

Lady Ridsdale did not like him, but with some of the visitors at Thorpe
Castle he was very popular. His talents were appreciated and admired.
One gentleman, Sir Thomas Ashburnham, ordered a picture from him;
another purchased a series of sketches; and a third invited him to a
grand old castle in the North where he could make himself familiar with
some of the finest rugged scenery in Scotland.

So that in one sense his visit was a complete success. He increased his
social importance; he made friends who would be of great value to him;
but, so far as Marion was concerned, it was a complete, dead failure. He
had expected long interviews with her; he had thought of long and
pleasant hours in the grounds; he had pictured to himself how she would
renew her vows of fidelity to him; how she would listen, as she had done
before, to his love-making, and perhaps even seem fonder to him than she
had ever done before.

Instead of which she certainly shrank from him. Never once during the
whole of his stay at Thorpe Castle did he contrive to get one
tete-a-tete with her. If he wrote a little note asking her to meet him
in the shrubbery or the grounds, or to give him five minutes in the
conservatory, her answer was always that she was engaged. If he rose
earlier than usual, hoping to meet her in the breakfast-room, she
invariably remained later than usual upstairs. He could not, contrive as
he would, obtain five minutes with her. In vain he asked his sister to
manage an interview for him; Marion seemed instinctively aware of what
she wanted. When Miss Lyster suggested a walk in the garden, Marion,
knowing that her brother would be sure to appear, declined it. Her only
safeguard lay in continually seeking Lady Ridsdale's society.

"The dear child is so warmly attached to me!" said the mistress of
Thorpe Castle to her husband. "It is really wonderful."

While Allan and his sister began to feel, with something of baffled
rage, that their power over her was growing less.

"Why do you never consent to see my brother?" asked Adelaide one day,
when Allan had complained most bitterly to her.

"Because I have such great respect for my guardians," she answered. "I
cannot bear anything clandestine or underhand beneath their roof."

A reply that, strange to say, silenced Miss Lyster. Brother and sister
held a council of war, and it was decided that all deference must be
paid to her humor.

"Content yourself, brother, with reminding her of her promise to marry
you when she comes of age, but do no more. Do not seek an interview with
her; let her imagine herself quite free."

But the finishing stroke was given one day during lunch, when the
conversation turned upon the elopement of a young lady in the
neighborhood. Lady Ridsdale expressed great fears for her future.

"He is not a gentleman," she said. "No true gentleman would ever try to
persuade any girl to a clandestine engagement."

She saw Marion open her eyes and look at her in amazement.

"I am quite right, my dear," she said. "You may depend upon it, a man
who would persuade any girl to engage herself to him unknown to her
friends is not only no gentleman, but he is not even an honest man."

Marion Arleigh's beautiful face flushed, then grew deadly pale; almost
involuntarily she looked at Allan, but he did not raise his eyes to meet
hers.

Those words were the death-blow to her love, or what she called her
love--"Not even an honest man." This hero of her romance, this artist
whom she was to ennoble by her love, was not even an honest man. She
shuddered and grew faint at the thought.

Again she was present when Lady Ridsdale was talking of the Lysters to
her husband. She praised Allan's artistic qualities, she admired his
talents, but she owned frankly that she did not like him, that she did
not think him true.

Marion Arleigh was very much struck with this remark. Then she began to
think over all she knew of the Lysters. She saw all in the clear light
of reason, not in the glamor of love, and her judgment condemned them
both. The sister had been false to her trust; she had betrayed the youth
and innocence of the pupil entrusted to her, and he--she summed up the
evil he had done her in these few words--he was not true.

She decided upon what to do. She would never be false to them; all her
life long she would do her best to advance Allan's interest; but she
must release herself from the tie that became unbearable to her.

He, at this difficult juncture of affairs, behaved with great tact. He
took his sister's advice, and would not intrude upon her. He sought no
more interviews; he wrote no more notes.

"He sees," thought Marion, "that my eyes are open, and he wisely intends
to let me go free. He sees that I understand he has acted dishonorably
in taking advantage of my youth, and he is, perhaps, sorry for it."

So, in proportion as he ceased to importune her, she grew kinder to him.
She talked to him about his pictures, and the progress he was making. He
showed her sketches of pictures that he intended to paint, but the word
love was never mentioned.

The time came now for Miss Lyster to return to her school duties. She
was not affected, but she felt the deepest sorrow. It was not pleasant
to leave such a home as Thorpe Castle for the drudgery of a school. But
she could see plainly if that visit was to be renewed she must go, and
make no sign.

Brother and sister were profuse in their thanks; they expressed the
deepest gratitude to Lord and Lady Ridsdale; they professed themselves
overcome with benefits. Lord Ridsdale received all these thanks with
great complacency, feeling that he deserved them. Lady Ridsdale's
impression was:

"I am glad they are gone, though I do not like to interfere in Marion's
affairs. I shall certainly advise her to drop that acquaintance as soon
as she can."

Allan bade Marion "good-bye." His last words to her were:

"I shall not seek to correspond with you clandestinely--nothing but the
fervor of my love can possibly excuse my having met you as I did. I
loved you, so I forgot prudence, ceremony, etiquette, and all. But,
Marion, you will remember that you are my promised wife."

She shrank back at the words. It was the greatest relief to her when
they went; it was as though some dark, brooding presence was removed
from the castle.

CHAPTER XI.

More than once was Marion Arleigh tempted to break that solemn promise,
and tell all to Lady Ridsdale. She longed to do so--the fact of being
blamed would not prevent her, she felt that she deserved it--but she was
one of those who are most scrupulous in keeping a promise once given. Of
one thing she was quite resolved--she would write to Allan and tell him
this clandestine engagement must come to an end. She could not bear the
burden of the secret any longer, neither could she possibly fulfil the
contract. She found on examining her own heart that she did not love
him, and a marriage without love was absurd.

She told him she would always be his friend, that she should look upon
his advancement in life as her especial care; she should always remember
him, with the most grateful affection; but as for love, all notion of
it must be considered at an end. And, she wrote still further, she could
not blame herself for this, because she felt that her youth and
inexperience excused her. She should always remember the claim that
Adelaide and himself had upon her, and she was always his sincerely
affectionate friend, Marion Arleigh.

Allan Lyster was not altogether surprised at the receipt of this letter;
he had anticipated some such blow. He went with it at once to his friend
and counsellor, his sister.

"It seems to me," he said, "that there is an end of the whole
business--a dead failure."

"Nothing of the kind," she replied. "Now you see the value of my advice
over documentary evidence; these letters of yours are a fortune in
themselves."

"I do not see it," he replied, gloomily.

"Men are not gifted with much foresight," said Adelaide Lyster. "Let us
consider. She has pledged her word, over and over again in those
letters, to marry you."

"She has done so," he replied.

"Then you hold a position from which nothing can dislodge you. If you
were to go over and insist on her promise being carried out, it would be
useless; not only would she refuse, but Lord and Lady Ridsdale would
take her part against you, and all would be lost. Evidently that plan
would be quite useless."

"Yes, there could result nothing save evil from such an attempt," he
replied.

"Take my advice, Allan. Now answer me honestly, what is it that you hope
to make out of this? Do you care very much for the girl herself?"

"I like her," was the hesitating answer; "but I must confess I care more
for money than anything else."

"Then I will teach you how to make money of this affair. Write tomorrow,
tell her you have received her letter, but that you must always love
her, and that you shall hold her to her promise of being your wife. The
chances are that she will not answer that letter, and that for a time
there will be silence between you. Then," she continued, "my advice to
you is this: wait until she marries. You cannot marry her now, she will
never be willing, but you can make a very decent fortune out of her when
she is married."

"In what way?" he asked.

"Hold those letters as a rod over her, threaten to bring an action
against her--she will never know that such an action cannot stand; or if
that does not do, threaten to show them to her husband. Rather than let
him know, rather than let Lord and Lady Ridsdale know, she will give you
thousands of pounds."

Allan Lyster for one-half moment shrank from his sister.

"It seems so very bad," he said.

"Not at all. She will have more money than she can count; you have a
right to some of it. Of course, you will never really tell, but why not
make what you can out of it? She would not even miss a thousand a year
and see what one thousand alone would do for you."

So it was settled--the fiendish plan that was to torture an innocent
woman until she was driven to shame and almost death. He wrote the
letter. Marion received it with silent disdain; she had told him that it
must all be at an end, and it should be so.

Then, as Adelaide had wisely forseen, there fell silence between them.
Adelaide wrote at intervals; in one letter she said:

"Allan has told me what passed between you." She made no further
comment; after a time she ceased even to mention his name in her
letters, and then Marion believed herself, in all honesty, free. She did
not forget her promise; she interested herself greatly in procuring
commissions for Allan Lyster; she persuaded Lord Ridsdale to order
several pictures from him; she sent very handsome presents to Adelaide,
and thanked Heaven that never again while she lived would she have a
secret.

How relieved, how happy she felt! Life was not the same to her, now that
this terrible burden was removed. She asked herself how she ever could
have been so blind and mad as to believe the feeling she entertained for
Allan Lyster was love.

A year passed, and, except for the favors she conferred upon him, the
orders that she had obtained for him, no news came to Marion of the man
who had been her lover. How was she to know that the web was weaving
slowly around her? It was silence like that of a tiger falling back for
a spring.

Then the great event of her life came to Marion Arleigh. She fell in
love, and this time it was real, genuine and true. Lady Ridsdale
insisted on her going to London for the season.

It was high time, she said, that Miss Arleigh, the heiress of Hanton,
was presented at court, and made her debut in the great world.

So they went to London, and Marion, by her wonderful beauty and grace,
created a great sensation there; Heiress of Hanton, one of the prettiest
estates in England, she had plenty of lovers; her appearance was the
most decided success, just as Lady Ridsdale had foreseen that it would
be.

Then came my Lord Atherton, one of the proudest and handsomest men in
England, the owner of an immense property and most noble name. He had
been abroad for some years, but returned to London, and was considered
one of the most eligible and accomplished men of the day. Many were the
speculations as to whom he would marry--as to who would win the great
matrimonial prize.

The wonder and speculations were soon at an end. Lord Atherton saw Miss
Arleigh and fell in love with her at once. Not for her money--he was
rich enough to dispense with wealth in a wife; not for money, but for
her wonderful beauty and simple, unaffected grace.

He was charmed with her; the candor, the purity, the brightness of her
disposition enchanted him.

"Her lips seemed to be doubly lovely," he said one day to Lady Ridsdale,
"because they have not, in my opinion, ever uttered one false word."

Marion was equally enchanted; there was no one so great or so good as
Lord Atherton. The heroes she had read of faded into insignificance
before him. He was so generous, so noble, so loyal, so truthful in every
way, such a perfect gentleman, and no mean scholar. It was something to
win the love of such a man, it was something to love him.

Now she understood this was true love, the very remembrance of her
infatuation over Allan Lyster dyed her beautiful faca crimson. Ah, how
she thanked Heaven that she was free, how utterly wretched she would
have been for her whole life long had she been beguiled into marrying
him!

She loved Lord Atherton with her whole heart, her womanly nature did him
full homage. She appreciated his noble qualities, she was happy in his
love as it was possible for a woman to be.

Yet, after he had asked her to be his wife, there came over her a great
longing to tell him the story of her engagement to Allan Lyster.

"He ought to know it," she said, "though all is at end now; he ought to
know it, there should be no secrets between us."

But she dare not tell him. One thing that restrained her was the promise
she had given never to mention it, but the reason above all others was
she knew his fastidious sense of honor so well that she was afraid he
would not love her when he knew how lightly she had once before given
her love.

So she committed that greatest of all errors, she engaged herself to
marry Lord Atherton without telling him of her acquaintance with the
young artist. Then she was so happy for a time that she forgot the whole
matter; she was so happy that she ceased to remember there had ever been
anything deserving blame in her life.

The season over, they returned to Thorpe Castle, and Lord Atherton soon
followed to pay them a long visit. He told them quite frankly that it
was perfectly useless to delay the wedding, that he could not live out
of Marion's presence, therefore the sooner the arrangements were made
the better.

That was perhaps the happiest time in Marion's life. Lady Ridsdale,
delighted at the excellent match she was about to make, was in the
highest spirits. Preparations were begun for the trousseau. Lord
Atherton ordered that his mansion, Leigh Hall, should be entirely
refurnished. Every luxury, every splendor, every magnificence, was
prepared for the bride; presents were lavished upon her from all sides;
congratulations and good wishes were showered on her.

She was perhaps at that time the happiest girl in the world. She had
almost forgotten that buried romance of her school days. When she
remembered Allan, it was only with an earnest desire to help him. To
Adelaide Lyster she sent some very superb presents, telling her frankly
of her approaching marriage, and telling her she would always be most
welcome at Leigh Hall.

If she had been more worldly-wise, poor child, she would have known that
Adelaide's silence meant mischief; but she was not married with any
presentiment of the sorrow that was to fall so heavily upon her and when
she was married she declared herself to be happier than any one had ever
been in this world yet.

CHAPTER XII.

An agreement had been made between them that some little time should
elapse before Allan put his long-cherished scheme into execution.
Nothing, Adelaide assured him, could have answered his purpose better
than Marion's marriage with the wealthy Lord Atherton.

"You will be able to get what you like from her, Allan. I am told she
worships her husband. Those letters will be worth a fortune, after all.
Now see what it is to have a clever sister."

They allowed her, poor child, some short dream of happiness; she was
lulled into perfect security when the blow fell. As Lady Atherton of
Leigh her position was second to none. Her husband owned half the
county; she was queen of the whole of it. She was beloved, popular and
admired; her husband worshiped her; her friends held her in highest
honor and esteem. To Lord and Lady Ridsdale she had grown dear as a
child of their own. She was at the height of human felicity; there was
nothing on earth left for her to desire. Sometimes, when she heard of
the misery resulting from very unequal or loveless marriages, she would
raise her beautiful face to heaven and thank God that she had been
preserved from the snares of her youth. She heard quite accidentally
from some one, who had been purchasing a picture, that Allan Lyster was
abroad, and she decided, in her own most generous mind, that when he
returned he should have an order that would please him. But he did not
return, and from her old friend, Adelaide, she had heard no single word
since her marriage.

There were great rejoicings when her little son and heir was born; the
only fear was lest the child should be absolutely killed by the great
amount of affection and caresses heaped upon it. Lord Atherton's
happiness was complete, Lord and Lady Ridsdale were delighted with the
beautiful princely boy, and his mother absolutely worshiped him.

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