innocence. At last, in the course of his harangue, the name of Tenermill was for the first time mentioned. Then I told him that Tenermill knew of his arrival and was most anxious to see him; but that, as I knew all, he wished me to give him first some explanations. 66 Alas! this made him think me more perfidious than ever. He looked at me with scorn and indignation, giving me to understand that he was aware I was deceiving him. For if Lord Tenermill knew I was at Les Saisons this morning," he said, "he would have come out to me at once, and have brought my daughter. Some of you for some reason have conspired not to let me see Lord Tenermill or my daughter. But I will overcome all obstacles!" Thereupon he started off to find the count. I followed him. He asked abruptly whether or not he could see his daughter, and the count, not knowing how things stood, nor what answer it was best to make, evaded the question. He assured Fincer that her ladyship's health was improving, and that she would soon be able to come to Paris and to welcome her father. In vain I urged Fincer to trust me as an honest man. In vain I offered to tell him everything in the presence of the count. The man was mad with rage. Then, calming down, he took no notice of me, but waving me aside, attempted to carry on a commonplace conversation with Count S This lasted an hour. I own I was amazed to see that he had so much self-command. I was making up my mind to go back to Les Saisons, and there report my want of progress to Lord Tenermill, when a servant announced his arrival with her ladyship. ence was of great importance, while he saw Mr. Fincer himself. I was opening my lips to explain the situation, but without stopping to hear me, he flung himself into the arms of Fincer, who came to meet him, followed by the count. Though I could not imagine why I should be wanted at Les Saisons, the words and the tone of Tenermill seemed to demand such haste that I took his carriage and set off immediately. I was received by Patrick with transports of affection and joy. With difficulty I disengaged myself from his embrace, saying: "You cause me such an infinite variety of anxiety and trouble, that I never know what to condemn in you, nor what to approve.' As I said this I caught sight of Mademoiselle de L-coming towards me with my sister. Never had I seen her in apparently such perfect health. She was blooming like a rose, and I caught a glance between Patrick and the countess which made me think that I had been the victim of a deception. She was evidently quite able to travel, nor could I divine any motive for my having been despatched in such haste to Les Saisons. I was shocked and annoyed by the babble and frivolity of these young people, who were evidently building their hopes on the consent of Patrick's wife to marry Tenermill. At last I said to Rose and Patrick : "Your brother was very desirous I should come out at once to Les Saisons, but I do not divine what for." "He "I can tell you," said Patrick. thought that if you and Rose remained here there could be no impropriety in our retaining Mademoiselle de La few days more as our guest at Les Saisons." If a thunderbolt had fallen at my feet I could not have been more aston- I answered this by saying that it was ished and alarmed. I rose in haste, imperative that Rose, who had a guest hoping to meet them before Fincer in her own house, should return to could speak, but the moment Tenermill | Paris; that I was not sure how long I perceived me as he came on, holding could remain at Les Saisons; and, in her ladyship by the hand, he begged short, I made it plain that Mademoime to take his carriage and drive out at selle de L—, being now perfectly once to Les Saisons, where my pres- well, had better leave us. She did so, accordingly, with Rose, Patrick being | umphed over all objections on the part much affected on taking leave of her. With all my heart I pitied him, but was I not to be pitied myself, the sport and plaything of these frivolous young people, the object of Fincer's scorn, and not long since of Patrick's insults and reproaches? All I could do was to commend myself to the care of Heaven. of Sara Fincer; and her consent to a divorce had been given in the most legal way. The king, to whom he had carried the paper at once, had confirmed it by his approval, and the two English bishops at his court had appended their consent couched in ecclesiastical terms. For fear I should feel any scruple about acting on these papers without seeing what they con 66 Notwithstanding the state of depression into which Patrick fell as soon tained, he sent me copies of Sara's as Mademoiselle de L had left assent, and the ecclesiastical decision Les Saisons, I drew from him some of our bishops at Saint Germain, each particulars concerning Tenermill. He signed by Fincer, who would tell me was in love, he said, sincerely in love the same thing in his letter. Thus with Sara, but he did not undervalue God and man having united in giving the advantages of the marriage he was their consent, nothing remained for desirous to make. Though King James me,' my brother added, "but to end had obtained the restoration of his all difficulties at once by giving my property, it hardly sufficed for his nuptial benediction to the two couples. needs, and he was quite aware that it And as we were Irish, and not subject was necessary for him to marry a rich to the laws of France, there was no wife. This might be difficult if he need to lose time by asking dispensasought a French lady of his own rank, tion from the French bishops, who had for the French insist far more than the nothing to do in the matter, dispensaIrish on equality of fortune in mar- tion being clearly implied in the paper riage. But in Sara he found every-signed by the two Irish prelates at the thing he could desire all ready to his court of our own king. He therefore hand. By this time things were so changed that I no longer knew whose part I meant to take, nor what were my own wishes; but I took such opportunities as Patrick afforded me to give him a few warnings as to being too much elated with the prospect he seemed to think so certain of speedily transferring his wife to Tenermill. But the next morning, when I asked for him, Joe, my valet, told me that he had quitted Les Saisons, leaving only a message for me with my man, whom he met as he was taking his departure. begged me to marry at once my brother Patrick to Mademoiselle de L- He should be glad to know, he said, that this was done as soon as possible, so as to remove all scruples from the mind of Sara Fincer, after which he hoped I would come at once to Paris and complete the good fortune of our family by uniting him to a woman whom he truly loved. Fincer's letter confirmed that of Tenermill, and made apologies for the manner in which (misled by false information) he had behaved to me. I could hardly believe this news at I sat waiting his return, when a mes- first. Things seemed to me, however, senger arrived express from Paris, a little hurried, and though I had no bringing me two letters; one from doubts as to the genuineness of the Fincer the other from Lord Tenermill. papers Tenermill had sent me, I had I opened both of them at once, uncer- some as to whether, since we were in tain which to read first in my surprise. France, the approval of our king and However, I chose that of my brother. the consent of his English bishops was He began by informing me that his sufficient for me to act on without happiness was secured, and that he reference to our French diocesan. I entreated my congratulations, since he apprehended no difficulty in getting said he had by parental authority tri-this, and I determined to set about at once getting the proper permission | the two bishops, who represented at Yet, pleased as I could not but be at the prospect of surmounting all our difficulties, I must own that I felt a little pang in seeing all that I had labored for and suffered for for months about to be destroyed, but I blamed myself for pride and selfishness, and prepared to send off a messenger to Patrick, with a letter containing a copy of his brother's, and begging him to go at once and show the papers it enclosed to the proper ecclesiastical authorities, that we might know what countenance we might hope for from the Archbishop of Paris. I was sealing this letter when a servant told me that Patrick and Mademoiselle de L were driving up to the door. They came in at once, their eyes beaming with happiness, and I saw that the news was already known to them. "Now we are all happy,” cried Patrick. "Fincer has made his daughter consent to our divorce. She is to marry Tenermill. Now marry us, dear brother. We want it to be done this very moment. I will not unclasp my Julie's hand till we have received your benediction." I tried to say something, but he would not hear me. "For God's sake," he cried, "marry us at once. It is the wish of Tenermill and Fincer. Don't you see that if we delay there may arrive obstacles to our happi ness ? " She had escaped from the count's house; she had thrown herself into the first carriage she could find, aud, having gathered from the servants' talk that Patrick and her rival were to be married that very day, she had hurried with all speed to Les Saisons, to prevent, if there were time, a marriage to which it was false that she had given her consent. Her father had used violence to obtain her signature. Furious against Patrick, he had been willing to employ any means to deprive him of his daughter. Poor Sara was the victim of his hatred to her husband. In vain she had protested that she would never sign the paper. He shut the door, seized her hand, and guided the pen. Then, giving the paper to Tenermill, who was in another room, he recommended him to lose no time in making use of it. 66 The count had known nothing of Fincer's violence. Tenermill himself had not been aware of the length to which he had carried what he called his persuasions." Over and over again they have since assured me that I interrupted him as he said this, had they known of the resistance Sara trying to make him understand that in made, and the tears she shed when it a Catholic country, such things could was useless, they would not have pernot be hurried up informally, as he sisted. But Fincer would not let the himself had known them to be in a countess see his daughter, and Tenerland where the law forbade all pub-mill had gone to Saint Germain to the licity to Catholic ceremonies. I might have gone on to say, had I had time, that a private copy of a legal paper hardly seemed to carry with it, in such a case, the necessary authority, that I did not, of course, question the approval of the king, or the opinion of king. Poor Sara thought she saw as soon as she rushed in upon us that the marriage ceremony was in progress. She sprang forward and seized Patrick by the hand. "Are they married?" she cried to me. I had to reply that they were not. "Ah! then," she cried, reproaches, not remembering that each "do not sully your soul by sacrilege. word he uttered was an insult to his You have been deceived if you think I wife. have given my consent. Nothing on earth would make me do it!" Heaven only knows what would have happened next had not Fincer arrived with Lord Tenermill. They had discovered Sara's flight, and had followed her close. As soon as I saw them coming, I asked Mademoiselle de Lto retire into the next room, congratulating her, as I led her to the door, on the victory she had gained over herself, Here she fell on her knees at Patrick's feet. "Kill me," she cried, "kill me with your own hand, if you wish to be free from me. I will not resist. But never hope that I will give you back your vows. You are miue! I call Heaven and your brother here to witness that you are mine! and exhorting her to continue gloriWhy should you hate me? ously in the path of duty. have I done to you but love and you tenderly?" What serve I had left Patrick sitting in a chair not far from his wife. I doubted not Patrick, as she spoke, seemed pay-some loving word from her would bring ing little attention to her words. His him back, but I did not perceive the thoughts were all with Mademoiselle glance of tender reproach that Madede L, whose hand he held fast, and who was trying to draw it away. "One moment," he said to Mademoiselle de L-; "stay but one moment ! " "Ah, yes," cried the unhappy wife, "stay and hear me! I believe you to be worthy of all love, since you have made such an impression on the heart of my husband. Oh, beg him not to take from me the name of wife! Ask him to have pity. See, I throw myself at your feet." I could not see my sister-in-law kneeling thus before her rival without taking part in the scene. "Rise, rise!" I cried. "Do not bumble yourself thus." She obeyed me, but then occurred what I could never have expected. Mademoiselle de L- flung her arms round my sister-in-law's neck, and they held each other in a close embrace for more than a minute. moiselle de L-had cast at him on leaving the room. When I came back he had risen, and was going towards the door. I tried to detain him. He flung from me, and rushed away, as if dreading pursuit. I was hanging over Sara, who had fainted, when Fincer and Tenermill came into the room. She opened her eyes as they entered, and her first pitcous words seemed to me to touch even the savage heart of Fincer. "Since she prefers," he said, “to live unhappy with a husband who wishes to be rid of her, she must be left to the fate that she has chosen." Tenermill, beside her, trying to do all he could for her, heard this decision which ruined all his hopes. He came towards us, and used arguments with Fincer to make him exert his paternal authority, and with me to make me marry Patrick at once to the lady of his love. At length Mademoiselle de Llifted up her face from Sara's neck and There was not much delicacy in this, said: "Live and be happy. Your life but he was desperate. He might have shall be disturbed by me no more. If produced some impression on Fincer, sacrifices must be made, it is I who who had no horror of violence, but I will make them. My example may answered him firmly : perhaps influence your husband to do like me." While I was moved to pity, Patrick was moved to rage, by what he chose to consider faithless desertion on the part of the woman who had promised to be his. He overwhelmed her with "You have no right to continue your suit. Her father's authority does not make it less a crime on your part. And it will be a crime if you continue to persecute her. Therefore, knowing the feelings of my lady, I hereby give you notice that I will oppose any considerations you may offer to induce her to consent to a di- | That I owed it only to my cloth that he vorce and marry you." did not take prompt means to punish me. But if I cared for my life I had better not let him see my odious face again. He was glad he was about to leave Paris with his regiment, which was ordered beyond seas. He was thankful to leave any place that I inhabited, and the sentiments he now expressed he should all his life retain ! "Is it a crime to force a man to marry against his will? Then it is yours!" cried Tenermill. The reproach went to my heart. 'Ungrateful that you are!" I exclaimed. "Is this the reward I get for all my tender love? - for all the services that I have rendered you?' While I still staggered under this blow, Fincer had taken his daughter's hand, led her away, forced her to get into the carriage that had brought him and Tenermill to Les Saisons, and set off for Paris without giving us any notice of his departure. Tenermill looked at me with angry eyes. "You have cost me my fortune," he said, "but if my suspicions prove correct, beware of my vengeance." And gaining the front door as he said this, he set out for Paris on foot, attended only by his laquais. I went to look for Patrick and Mademoiselle de L- whom I had forgot ten. I found them gone. Another misfortune! 66 'Oh, God!" I cried, as I shed bitter tears, "what have I done to deserve this scorn and hatred ?” After a while I opened Patrick's letter. His nature was more gentle. I thought I might find in it some conIsolation. Its style was more moderate than that written by Tenermill, but the sentiments were the same. They were those of an almost broken heart. He considered me the author of all his misery, and he renounced forever my friendship and my councils. I had been very scrupulous, he said, about coercing Fincer's daughter into an unwelcome marriage; I had shown no such scruples in Ireland with respect to him. If I cared so much about not violating the laws of the Church, ought I to have shown less regard to the laws of nature? I had violated them all by forcing him to marry against his will. If the authority of king, bishops, and Religion, under such circumstances, might teach me patience, but it could not teach me what was best to be done. The next morning after a sleepless night, my valet, Joe, whom I had sent to Paris for news, handed me two let-the lady's father had not been suffiters, one from each of my brothers. Joe told me that Fincer and his daughter had not returned to the count's house. They had sent for their trunks and my lady's maid, and had set out for Denmark as soon as these reached them. Lord Tenermill had heard this news, Joe said, with absolute despair, and had at once seized his pen to write to me. Joe had not been able to find Patrick. He had been several times to Mademoiselle de L's house, but she was not there. The last time, however, a servant had handed him a letter for me. I first opened that of Tenermill. It was even more cruel than I expected. He told me I had ruined his fortune and his happiness; that he would hate me everlastingly. cient to induce me to overcome obstacles, why had I paid more deference in Ireland to my own notions and caprices. And though he expressed his sentiments in a tone of less insolence than Tenermill, he ended by saying much the same things; namely, that he never wished me thereafter to take part or interest in his affairs. As I reflected on these letters there came into my mind a plan by which I hoped I might repair the ruin they believed me to have wrought. I would follow Fincer and his daughter to Denmark. If I urged Tenermill's suit upon her with frankness, openness, and tenderness, perhaps I might yet earn the gratitude of my brothers and bring back peace and happiness to our unfortunate family. |