The White Lady

1-AKT il - i;y '...!:ki!:i.i.i: LBONHAXDT. June Otli, 18-. It s now geverei days since we came to Tredegar, anduntU now 1 have negtocted my Journal shamefully; bat oneissn happy in thisdear old house that one does not percelve how the time passes. Still It v :is vcry wrong of me not to havo wiitten my impresslone de oóyage before they had evaporated, especially as tliis is my lirs! visit to tliis perfide AlbUm. Deeidedly my improssions are favorable ones; and I bave come to tbe conclusión that, when we in Franoi' gay that Bngland lias a bad climatc and is never without f og or rain, we do not know what we are talking about. Why, hei e in Comwall the sky is as seronc and the sea is as blue as tnèy ever are willi us, and, as I aoi writing, the mid-day sim is pouring in at my Windows, making my pretty room so bright and cheerfull We have been al Tredegar ten days; t is acharmlpg place. The house stands on a rock, and trom one side we can seethe sea and the vessels; f rom the facade of tlie house we can the park, which is very extensive. The soa kisses the feet of the rock in weather fine and sof t a-. this is; but Joan says that in the winter it roars and dashes against it furlously. Jean is charming also. She is a beautíful brunette, a little grave perhaps, but so dlstirtQUee!- while Guy is the beau-ldeal of a gentleman, DearGuy! He seems so happy, and is so bandsome and 80 good that, lf ha lovedany other woman hut Bertle, I Bhonld be envlous of her; but Bertle Is worthy of any iove. There are severa! puesta In the house, none of whom are rcuiarkable save a Mr. Pallser, a clergynuui who was at Tredegar when öuy was boni, and who loves hlmasifhe were his own son. There are soma college-frlends of Guy's ton, tyjiiral English, and one, Lord Oldhain. who, is si juli gareon aswell asbun partl that it astonislies me that he is not already marrled. But I hear tho luncheongong going, so- basta I June Sth. - I love England moro and more. The Engllsh seem colder than we are, but, au fond, tliey are so good! Must! ncknowledge that it seems to me that they ai e more sincere than we are - at least, than onrnatton is? Theyflattar less, forexample. 1 have never heard (uy pay Bertie om compliment ; I have never lieard hiin pralse her beaux yeux and her lovely volee; yet he loves lier. Then Hiere Is Lord Oldham ! If my society iid not give iiiin Sonic pieasnre, woutd he seek it so constantly? And yet not a compliment, not a phrase which one is so usod to hearingl I think I like these Englteh; but then, since I marrled an Englishman, I am morO than half English. Soimtinics 1 tliink - nay, I hope that it will be my destiny to marry anothcr. I wonder if there is any one in tliis house whom dear Mr. Leonhardt would have Wished me to marry. I was thinking to-day of liis last words to me- "I shall be so glad to think, GabrieJle when I am gotlc, thnt ynii ovo Imppy wife!" June 15th.- Today rather a strange ihing hanï(iiïil. Coiii.ü; into liortiw't; drocai.. room just before luncheon, I fonnd her in a lit of hystericRl crying. öomethlng extraordinary in our quiet Bertie ! She could give no reason, except that she feit low-spirited. I thpught she had quarrelled witli Guy; but no I Besidès, he lovcs her far too wcll to quarrel over anythlng. So I tliink it is too much happinessl June 2tli.- At last I have something (lefinite to write about. Until now there has been sucha round of gaiety and fun, sucha repetitionof dancing, ridin-, drlviog, and singing, that my diary would have been day after day the same (hing but tor a bit of news. We are going to have some theatricals on the 12th, which is Guy's birthday, and a hall after. There was much deliberation about the comedie vee wereto act; and at last Lord Oldham said he would write one lor us, lounding it on an incident in the lile of Madame de Lautremont, who was a beauty in the reign of Louis XVI. and an ancestressof bis. It is chiefly tliis- that, having boen redueed from riches to poverty by the Hevolution, she niakes use ol her solea tn obtain a itaaUhaad, and during one ot her street peregrinations she meets a yotmg Knglish ofticcr who fallí in love witli her and ultimately becomes her husband. It is very well wrttten, and the dialogue sparkles with wil. Lord Oldham is very sjiritui. 1 am to play the Cointessede Lucay, and Lord Oldham is to be stage manager. Guy won't play, as he says he has do talent that way. Bertle playa splendidly a little Marquise full of fun and coquetry. Altogether I tliink the comedie will be sucocssful. (iuy has had a stage and scenery erected in the library, and tbe drop-Bcene is beautiful. Our costunies, of couise, como from Woith, Jean's from Eli.se, and they will be very pretty. July :m1.- Tliis eveniiiK we were sittin out on the lawn after dlnner when oíd Collins, the butler, c e up to Gtay withatelegraphic (lcsjiatch. He opened it, and, reading it, turned very pale. "Is there the least possibility of my catching the last uptrall), Collins?"' he askcd anxiously. "Not the sllghtest, sir; itstarted atfive to nlne." "When is the earlteet to-morrow niorning?" "A quarter to eight, sir." "Order the brougham round in the niorning in Umetooatch that." "No bad news, sir, 1 trust?" the o'.d servant said. "Captain Gordon is very 111, Collins. His mother wrltes that I shall bardJybe intime," he added, turning to Jean, who grew palo at Guy's sorrow for they are great tiieiils,Guy and Jlugh Gordon. I remember well that the liist time we saw Guy h was walking by his Criend's chalr at Msntone. That he loves hun dearly no one ean doubt. At the thonght I hisdangerGuy looks haggard and pale alieady.and, as Uertie went up to him this evenlng, slipping her hand into his ii: mate synipathy, his lip quivered. "Guy," I heard her whisper, "I am 80 grieved for you!" "Thank you, my darllng," hc answered, in a low voiee, and clasped her hand close. They were sittin together when Miss Calhcart came up to Bertle and asked her to shjg; but she refused; and Guy said - "Let me have her (iiiotly u myself this evening, Mis;; Catlicart. It is my last night, j'ou know. " We aeparated earlier than usual, I bidding Ouy good night and good-bye, as he léaves early in tlie niorning: hut Bertie perslStBin herdeslreto getup early and seo him off. öhe looked white and Iffto-nlght, and she had such a strange wlstful expression in her eyes, as if she had i presontluieiit of oomhag f She chuig to Gny aobbing to-nlght He smiled down at her. "Sllly little one 1 Do you think I amto escape all sorrow?" "I wish 1 could keep It from you, Guy." "I must try to keep it from you, my darling," he said softly. Bnddenly Bertle pnt up her hands and drew hls teil head down to hersitnd klssed him pfssionately. "Oh, (iiy. take care of yourselfl" she said, in a voiee so pathetlc and full of tears. "You knowwhatmj Ufe would he without you." Uut all this is very sad, anii, as (iuv is goIng away only for three or tour days at tlie most, Bertle Is silly to grieve so much. July 4th.- Jean tdis mo that the parting was very sad tiiis mornhig, that Bertie tr lea to be brave, but broke down in ;i veiy uuaceountal manner, and that Guy blmseU Beemed strangely depressed. He must have dreamed an old dream last ülght, for it seems he ttioughl he :iw .lean entering hls room in a white peignoir, and seemed surprlsed that she had not been there. Bertie has not been toldof the dream. Guy told Jean not to mention il to lier. Bertie made Guy promiso U) telegraph to her cvery night and every monilng rtiirlngtho few.dayshe will beaway, which seems rather childlsh: July nth. -ü:v's tdlecrams come regularlv. Captain Gordon is better, he says, and lic will be home suoii. Our rehearsals have begun I find my pari very dlfflcult, Milord is so exacting. I wonder lf he would beequailyexacting as a husband? Whatanldea! I wonder what niake.i me so nervous i my acting now? He complalns that I don't throw lire enough into the part; and yet I ean be earnest enough when his back Is turned. ('an it be po.ssible that But no- I know SO little of him; and, besides, one liever loves a strenger. I wlU think of it no more. July sth.- Our costumesarearrived. They are really ravlssantes. l am so Klad! I want to be si helle on Thursday ! Why? Ah, well. yes. I own Ihat I am coquettel 1 want him to have some csteetu (or uie- aduiuation Í9ve July lOth.- Giiy comes to-morrow evenln?. Bcrtic Is radiant, and flits about the house llke a sunbeam. triiy will anlve jast in time for our comedie, and his little fiancee looks ravissanU In toilette of Pompudour slik, her patches and powaér. I have flrst a eourt-dresi, and then a plain gray clrcss with i Charlotte Corday cap. Lord Oldham likes the plain dress best; be said it ulted mo perfectly. He lias made a sketch of Bcrtie for Guy. It is just like lier- muoh more like than the. picture (iuy had done whlch hangs in the (jallery. Ho made a sketch of mn also;bnl he would notgivc itto me. He says he will do so when I have angwered a question he is golng to ask me. Whai is the question, I wonder - and what will n;y answer bc? July 1 lt ii. - 1 was awakened lastnight tay Jeannette, Bertie's maid, knocking lor me. Bertle had fainted dead away, and, when she came to herself, seemed half delirious with teiTor. Sha said sim saw a white bird at her WlndOW in the nlght, and, as she was going to open the window. it flew upwards. She aayaQuyis illor dying. A telegram trom him ha however changed the color of her ideas, and she has just run Info my dressingroom, drcsse.d in lier malquise eostume, to teil me to hurry, that the guests are arrhing, and Guy will be here before X am coiffee. PAIiï III.- BY EVAS PAIiUBB, M. D., OF TUF.DEGAU. lt is just five years ago to-night since I witnessed the saddest scones I have ever, in my experionce as a medical man, beheld, and whlch 1 can never forget. It was on thh evening, the eleventh of July, in the year 18 - , that there occurred that fearful railwayaccident whlch is still recalled by the simple village folk with horror and grief too deep for worda lt was about half-past seven.and a l'air July evening; 1 was in my room, dressing fora baü and theatrlcais at. Tredegar, when a man on horseback carae dathing up, and in a moment Margery Dawse, my housekeeper, was knocking at my door, hei' face white with tenor, ''Kor Jleaven's sake, sir, go!" she said almost incoheiently. "There has been a railway- accident at the station, and a numberol people are dying I" A few worda fi03ii tho mossengcr confirmed her statement; the down-train had dasheil nto an up-train irom Launceston, and the casualties were fearful "Take my lioree and go, Doctor," he said. "They are all at the station. Some are dead, others are dying, and the Squire - - " He paused, unable to proceed ; and, springIng upon liis liorsc. Idashed off, trying to think it improbable that Guy Tredegar wal iu the colusión, and praying that, if suchhad been the case, he had not been serionsly hurt. Something brought to mynünd J i.--j Leonhardt's brighl face and vclvety dart eyes, and 1 hoped that she was spared such sorrow. 1 fonnd the little station In a terrible state of eommotion. The collision had been a fearful one. Help had been obtaiued trom all quarters; but the wayside station looked more like an ambulance, than anything else, the sufferei's being placed on niattresses, rugs. or benches, where somelay groaning, while others were in the stillness and silenco of InsensibUity or death. For a moment I paused, liardly knowing where to begin, ivhcn nn. .Tiiiiiieson, tne siaviv. t,r, na wnue race full of perplexity, distress, and despair, caught uie by the arm. ".Mr. Tredegar is here," he said brokenly; and he led me into his own cottage, where, on a couch, lay Guy Tredegar. My lirst glance showed mo that for him there was no hope. Ile was sensible, and gave me a faint smile. "Don't waste your time here, Palmer," he said, in faint luw tones; "there are others who need you. I am- dying! Rush- old fellowl Don't grieve. I am sure- 1 saw"- and he smiled again- "the White Lady the nlght- before I left town." All my entreaties to be useful to hiin were in rain. "Their need is greater than mine," hesaid. "Go to th ni, Palmer- only teil me before you go if- you think I shalï live until liertie comes." He smiled at my eager nffmnatives; and I went out to do my best for the suffereis, returning to him in an hour. His spine had been injured, and already the lower Ümha were paralyzed. He looked up eagerly. Talmer, why dosen t Bertle come? I shall die without seeing her- poor little one! 1 should have been thirty to-niorrow, Even - you see the White Lady keeps her word." Even as he Bpoke, the sound of horses' lioofs and carriagc-wheels suddenly stopping reached us. "That is Bertiel" he said; and in a minute slio was kneeliug beslde him, her face hidden on his hreast. Mrs. Leonhardt and Miss Tredegar wero with her; and even in that scène of distress I could not help belng stmck by the contrast between their gay dresses and the niisery and sulïering aroimd. Miss Leonhardt was dressed like a Ijouia XVI. marquise, herhairpowdered and little pateheg on her fair face, from whlch every shade of color liad departed; lut she was quite calm. Mrs. Leonhardt looked at me questioningly ; but I could onlv shake my head in silence. (liiy, from his piltow, smiled at her, and held out one hand to his sister. I'oor Jean Tredegar! The beautiful dark face looked in it.s auguish as if it wero turned to stone; the girl's tall slim ligure, qualnüy dressod in a straight simple gray gown, a white kerohief knotted around her throat, seemed bent and bowed under the load of her despair. She was thinking, She told me afterwards, of her biother's parting words to Miss Leonhardt a iiw days prevlously - "Heaven help you, my child!" Were they proplietic? Softly came Bertie's volee breaking the silence. "Do j'ou suffer much, my dearestV" "Not much, migntinne- a numbed sensation, that is all. Talmer says I shall not suffer." "Thank Heaven ! Have you anytliing to say to me. Guy? Is there anytliing I can do or continua for you?" How siiver-clear the sweet tones werel -much. Bertie, you know I was wamed of thls. 1 saw- our White Lady- so I made my will In town. Tredegar is yours, my dading! Be kind to our people there- when you can- t will hurt you yet a while. Come and live there- and do my work; and, my dearest, it you ever bring some one there to help and guide you - 1 shall be glad to know- that yon are happy 1" She raised her eyes to his in nmte reproach. "lt is hard for you, my poor pet," he said, "but not harder than for others. Ah, Bertle, there is 80 much to do and so little time todo tin! If I had known Ah. well, my half-day's work is done! Ilush, liertie 1 Don't grieve- poor dear!" She bent over him and kissed him in silence. "Take care of auntie Graeie- I leave her toyou;and, Bertli Who Is that? Oldbainl Don'l look sogrleved, old fellowl" "Oh, (iiy, I would have dled for you!" ho said, bendlng over him, his very lijis palo with anguish. "Dear oldfrlend, it isbetter thus. Mrs. Leonhardt, you will niako him happy. Bcrtic1'- with a fainl happy smile - "Tonderthe altver-footed llght is Bteallng along the sand. Mignwine, can you sn' t forme just once?" Could she? Ah, woman's love, 80 strong and truel Softly the rich voice rose, tremulous at lii-st, then growiug flrmer as she went on- " 'Heavy, heavy the laden net Weary the Hshera be; The stormv huir of the wind is wet, And he dashes lus lears in the sea. Drenched with the cold and angry night, I'ull, brave licarts, for the land; Yonder the silver-footcd liïlit tealine aton? the sand. Toil for a little moment ct, ShiI heart, achtnic brow; Looee not hold ol Be strainlng net - lt will si .on be overnow. Higherand higherthe gunbeama climb; l-'iiar not, ye sea-beal crew ! One who faced the storm ín His Urne Is waitinj; to welcome you.' " Her volee falled, and her head Bank foiward on his hreast. He laid his hand tonderly on the bowed head. "Thanks, darling- ralse me a little. Oldham, teil my people that 1 ask- nay, 1 claim all their alleglance, all their love for Bertle. Miijnnnne, where are you? If js getting dark- I cannot sec yon. Do yon reniemher, little one, ce nue-Dicu garde- est bien gardet" His head feil back on the tender arm which supported him; he opened hls eyes with one loving look at her: ghe pressed her lijis tu his with one last llngering kiss; and Cuy Tredegar, the gentle, noble, and true, was dead. ♦ Tredegar Hall is rtull enough now; but Bertie Leonhardt and Jean Tredegar live there, nobly fiüjUllng Cuy's trust Eacb lovely face is very süil and pale;liit calm and hajipy are tlic two fair womcii iu Uieir kmgly houie. l'eihans ! "They who desory the Lord on the betich Launcli out to the deep no more." It seems to ine s9meti1n.es, looking at Bertie as slic sits in tUe old-fashloned carved pew In Tralcgar chlirch, the lifflit from a stained window above lalling on the face so still, so white, tliat sli; luoks like "a sainted lady of olden timo" who is strong and proud to endure- as lf the "silver light stcaling along the sand" had lingered on her taco. A yenr later Jlis. Leonhardt and Lord Oldbam were married; and they often visit Tredegnr Hall, She Is as bcautiful as ever, ' and radiantly happy in her hushanil's love. i Two beautilul thildren, a noble-looking Guy and a pretty blonde liertlo, accompany them ; uow' Mr. Pallser and I cannot agrec on the '■■ jwt of tho White Lady of Tredefar. He Bayi that no sucli person ever existed, and tluit the early deaths of the Tredcifars were a series of mere colneidences, nothing more, and that fluy's visión and the blrd in Miss Leonhardf bed-room were creatmes of an exciUid nen'ous imagination. From what I know of (Jiiy Tredogar, he was the last man in tho world t be nervousor imagSuative; and Lady Oldham speaks of "our qulet Bertie." Uut what I say is of llttje moment; and others will admit that there are more thinga in beaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy. A Quille Pennb.