THE TALE OF
AUNT MARGARET'S TROUBLE,

IN Six WEEKLY PORTIONS. FIFTH PORTION.

CHAPTER XI.

AT nineteen, life is very vigorous within us.
Let the soul be harrowed and the mind tortured
as they may, the body will yet struggle to throw
off its load of suffering. My youth and strength
asserted themselves, and physical illness was
not added to the anguish of my heart's sorrow.
It was otherwise with my aunt. Her frail
tenure of life was sorely weakened by the
shock, and we watched at her bedside with a
dumb foreboding. Anxiety for her, and the
necessity of attending on her, took me out
of myself. The sharp present pain sometimes
dulled that other heartache for a moment. But
there were hours when my wounded love awoke
and cried within me with an exceeding bitter
cry; and the moaning voice of the vast eternal
sea seemed but the echo of my little human
woe. At first I could not speak of it. I
could not think of it. I could only feel it.
But by degrees I lost the overpowering sensation
of terror that possessed me at the first agonising
aspect of my grief, and slowly dared to look it
in the face. For three days after my uncle's
arrival, I was as one in a dream. Mechanically
I went about my daily duties, and said no word,
and asked no question. Mr. Norcliffe was
constantly in the house, fulfilling the duties of a
physician and friend with unobtrusive kindness;
I think it was by his advice that they left me to
myself, and forbore to speak until I should
be prepared to hear. At last, as I have said,
I took courage to look my trouble in the face,
and I resolved to know all they could tell me.
"I will hear it at once," I said, " and then———"

And then?———

I could see nothing beyond. The long vista
of my future years, had held one figure journeying
by my side. No matter through what trials
we still should walk together. That had been
my dream of life.

"Uncle," I said one night when the household
were preparing to go to rest, and my aunt
had fallen into a heavy slumber after a restless
day, " will you come out with me on the beach for
a little while? Aunt is asleep, and the servant
shall stay in her room till I come back. I want
to speak to you, and I feel as if I should be
stifled in the house. Will you come?" He
pressed my hand in his, took up his hat, and
silently we went down-stairs. A short flight of
rough stone steps led down from the terrace on
which the house stood, to the shore, and, once
upon the wide beach, we were in absolute
solitude. It was a warm dark night, with
phosphorescent gleams upon the water. The soft
wind, blowing seaward from the land, brought
with it sweet wafts of country odours. Slowly,
slowly, and in silence, we paced onward, until
a turn in the shore showed us a distant
lighthouse blinking with its red eyes far into the
night.

"Dear uncle, I want you to tell me——-"

"To tell you, my dear bairn?" For I had
stopped and stood silent with my hand upon
his arm.

"To tell me all about——- Horace and my
sister. I will only ask you this once, and then,
it will be over."

"I am glad you have spoken, Madge. It
would have been my feeling to have had it all
out before now. But others thought differently,
and perhaps they were right."

"Yes, uncle; quite right. And—and—I
want to beg one thing of you." He took my
trembling hand and held it in a firm though
gentle clasp. " I want you to try not to say
things like— like——-"

"What things, my darling?"

"Such as you said that night of Horace. I
know what you must feel; but O, dear uncle,
I beseech of you not to say hard things of Horace
to me." I was sobbing with my head upon his
breast.

"How shall I speak the truth and not say
hard things of him?" returned my uncle, bitterly.
"But there, there, my beloved child. Heaven
knows I would not willingly add to your
burden. I will do my best, Madge."

Then, brokenly and with difficulty, he told
me what he knew about my sister's flight. " I
suspected nothing," he said, "nothing in the
world. It must have begun when they were so
much together at Meadow Leas. He seemed
moody, and did not spend so much time as
formerly at the Gable House. At least, not
with my knowledge. God knows what went on
behind my back. Anna had full liberty, and,
as for him, he was like a son of the house."