THE LEHIGH REGlSTER—Supplement. A 'CHARMING NOVELETTE .ONLY FOR THE SEASON I==l •• • • . MONAL WHIT The twilight was past, the stars had cone Out end earnest March wind shook the tree-tops In the avenue leading to Dykeham, the resi dence of Sir Francis Crevilion, Beronet. Di. Carl Seeker drew in his horse before the lodge-gate, and looked down at the woman who opened it with a face expressiveof dissat isfaction. Be had seen moving lights, like carriage lamps, amongst the trees nod heard the rumble of wheels in the drive before him. "Stop a moment," cried Dr. Seeker. "19 there a—is anything imtisital going on at the ,11511?"! "No, sir ; only a dinner-party, I belies e." "Oh." Dr. Seeker passed ma into the drive with speculative slowness. li' Sir Francis was about to entertain dinner-gueVs, he bud route on a vaht errand, and might almost as well turn back. So it appeared at first sight, or so he made believe that it appeared ; but lie went on for all that, in the rear of Ihe carriages, watch ing the lights as they vanished behind big 'trees, and came twinkling into sight again. " If they had as many starlight rides to take as I have," mused the doctor, "they would learn to do without lamps such a night as this. Well, I think I had better go on. I think I Might to go professionally. A busy man can't choose his own time for visiting a patient." . He quickened his pace a little, for if he did go on, it was important that he should reach the house before the guests were assembled. He passed a carriage or two, saw a gentleman in black, andlad a vision of a white cloud of Muslin and lace, and tt. coronet that glittered like silver. Then a groom took his horse, and he sprang up the steps and became the prey of the first official receiver, whose ditty It was to hand him over to the second official `receiver, who would relieve hint of his coat. ' "No," objected the doctor, brusquely, for he did not much like being mistaken fur an Invited guetit ; "show me into a tnorning room, If you please, and Inquire if Mies Crevillon will see me. I shall detain her but a few moments." He. was shown into a tnorning room, accord ingly, and took up,his position on the hearth rug, after the fashion of English gentlemen in •general. While he waited, it occurred to him : that his heart was beating a little faster titan usual, and that he could not be said to retain that evenness of spirit and nerve which are essential to a medical man in his visits to his patients. A certain sensation of doubt op , premed him as to the. propriety of this step which he had taken ; also a little haze of un reality began to rise up about the position in which he had believed himself to be placed ?when ho mounted his horse to ride to Dyke ham. He couldn't possibly have dreamed it, he supposed. And after all, what had dinner parties, or, indeed, any arrangements at Dykeham, to do with the discharge of his pro fesslonal duties? As all the world knew, his . time could not be called his own, and he must pay his visits us lie could. ' vision which appeared to him whet; the door opened would, however, scarcely. have , been suspected of requiring medical aid. It • was a cloud of white, something like that other vision which lie bad just before seen through a carriage window, only the first was totally uninteresting to him, whilst this one-- , -.He made a step or two forwards and then stopped. " Amy !" he said, in a tone not professional. "Oh, Carl! I ought not to have some, I stole away without their kuowledge. If Lady Orevillon were to know, or joalias._•• "Or Sir Francis," added the doctor. "He '.would hardly object to your seeing me, Amy. You forget—" • "No, Ido not. But you never meont to see Sir Francis this evening." " Indeed, I did." " Well, you'll thud it to be impossible. And, Carl, I tried to tell Joanna, but site was '• so hard and dry that I couldn't do it." Dr. Seeker was. standing in the emus spot to which he had advanced to meet her ; and he was looking down upon the carpet with a • troubled expression. • " - Shall I write to Sir Francis. Amy T I feel underhanded." ' " Underhanded ?" cried Amy r,lllAn't you cure me when old Dr. Guise would have bungled away my life es a help ' -less Incurable? Who line a better right to • care for me than you have ?" Then she went a little closer to hint. and put her hand upon his crossed arms. "Let me tell my guardian myself, Carl. I can manage it better titan you:" "But, when . "Soon. Tomorrow there will be people • here; and the Hunt Ball at night ; and then, 'the next day, there's the Meet at Redford , Bridge." " Amy I" said the doctor, "you are not going to the Meet r "I shall only be driyen there in the carriage. It Is the last Meet of the season. Let me go. Dr. Seeker." I.LLENTOWN, W EDN ESDA Y MORN INC:. DECEM BER 22.1869 "And the Ihunt Ball tomorrow night," said the doctor, aghast. " You! only within the lust month nide to walk without nspiet ance—'' '• Stop, Carl. I want you to tell no•—us my edical adviser, you know, not my—my lover --do you really think I ought not go to balls?" Dr. Seeker hesitated. The face that looked up into his own was so childlike in Its ques tioning; so simply in earnest about his opin ion ; so divested of its usual wilfulness and occasional petulence, that he felt obliged to question himself according to her distinctions, as the doctor, and not the lover. I think dissipation bad for any one ; for you, dangerous. A ball, occasionally, is not dissipation ; but just at present, when I tremble sometimes to think that your rerovery is hardly assured---" " That will do. I love balls, but ---" '• You love me better, said the doctor. "1 begin to believe that I have not dreamed it all. You won't tire yourself to-night, Amy ? Is it a large party ?" "Stupidly large. Don't, you wish you were going to stay and- - She broke off abruptly. SonNthing in the young doctor's face made her fear lest the words might hurt him, either in his pride or his.self•consciousness, about this secret wit' eh Sir Francis did not yet suspect. She fancied that his aspect had changed ; that it was less glad and'assured ; and so again she laid her hand upon the arms that were erm.ced in grim resolve upon his breast. "oh, Carl ! Carlo mio !' never be hur t . at anything I may s - Kw In my foolislines , . Know better What I mean.— And then the doctor smiled down upon her, and uncrossed his arms, letting one of them draw her to him. Ile thought of something else Just then, which was not exactly pleasant to hint ; he thought of other arms which might rest, in waltz or galop, where his own was rest - ing then ; only how differently ! How much less reverential; hove r carelessly indifferent they would be ! Ile wished a passing wish, which others have felt before him, with reference to such dances, but he did not give it words. "I must go now." said Amy. " Gyd-bye, Curl.'. ' When he was gone, she listened a little while, rind then went to the window to raise a corner of the curtain and blind, that she might see him ride off. She said to herself once again, very softly, "Carlo mio !" and then the curtain dropped over the window, and she ran up stairs to steal into the draw ing-coons and be taken into dinner. But as she passed Lady Crevillou, my lady turned round and looked at her, and Amy knew that there would be no longer any secret to keep. She behaved very well to her neighbors at thedinner-table. Sheanswered their remarks, smiled when it was expected of her, looked with seeming interest through the glittering liver and the hothouse Bowers and ferns nt the row of faces opposite to her, but all the while she was thinking what she would have to say to Sir Francis hy-and-by: When they were in the drawing -room again Amy saw, without seeming to look at it, the approach of Lady Crevillon's skirt as it swept the carpet and paused at her feet. "Was Dr. Seeker here before dinner said her ladyaldp. " llr came to see you, I suppose. I thought he considered your health re-established. Snell an loom, too, to come ' I dare say he had been busy all clay.' Lady Crewllion made a grimace, signify ing hon extremely unimportant Dr. Seeker and his bualneas were in her eyes. lie should have come before. if he must come. What did he say ?" Nny lo'oked straight up at the gold eye. glass, by the help of which her ladyship was making observations. "I ant not going to tell you, Lady Crevil- Iou," she replied. " I shall tell Sir Francis ; but 1 don't think this is the time to talk about it." Lndy C'revillon ,nilled. nodded and flagged She rather relished that hold speech of Amy's, it showed spirit. lint if Dr. Seeker could have" known, as he rode home in the starlight, the sublime contempt with which her ladyship mentally closed upon him the doors of Dykeham, he might have been still, less itt ease in his own mind than he was al ready. If he had thought the matter over, it might have occurred to him before that the baronet would be ready enough to measure the difference between his social Standing and Miss Crevillon's. Ile had, perhaps, perceived this In some vague, general way, without at taching much importance to it; but somehow Ids ride to-night through Dykeham Park, with the carriages before him, seemed to have quickened his appreciation of it. When he went into his own room—that is, the room in which he generally sat—a sudden chill came over him. It was dingy ; no question about that. There was a general air of dreariness about it which annoyed him, Some months age It had been comfortable enough ; but since then he had been called ip, much to Ida own amazement, by Sir Francis Crevilion; to pre- ECM • - --- scribe for that gentleman's w ard and distant relative, who was •considered a confirmed in- Valid. Dr. Seeker had dispersed that theory; but then he had also fallen in love, and now he began to think that he had done a very mad thing. Ile looked at the easy chair, covered with dingy morocco, opposite to him; and he found it impossible to place there, even in Imagination, the danty form he had seen in the morning-room at Dykeham. Ito could' think of her there, but here she was incogru oils. The doctor's heart sank. "1 wish I was a rich MRII." he said, •• I wish the Seckers-----" And he broke off. •• No, 1 don't : 1 wish to be nothing but what I am. As to this room which annoys me, all that can be changed— shall be changed if—" clurrEit II I= •• If you remember,'• said Lady Crevillon, '• I was always against his being called in. Dr. Guise has been the fainily physician long enough to be trusted, one would think." "Only Guise didn't cure Amy," replied Sir Francis, drily. •' How could he T She was taken nut of his hands. I dare say, if the truth could he known, it was he who did the real good." Scarcely fair to Dr. Seeker, Lady Crevil lou." This third speaker was Lescar, the Baronet's daughter by a former marriage ; and she did not look up to make her moderating remark, but went on with her occupation of teaching the small future baronet to make fish ing /tics. "It's too cold yet, Frank. When the weather gets warmer I'll come with you down the Dyke, and see what we can do." Amy looked at them all, unable to speak. That Sir Francis should tell his wife about Carl was natural enough; but that Lady Cre villon should bring up the subject thus pub licly, and speak of the doctor in such a way was too intolerable. And there was no one to say a word in defence of thf; absent, ex cept, indeed, Joanna Lescur, whose mu in terpolation fell upon Amy's rising passion: like oil upon flames. . " Well," resumed heiladyship, " it will be very annoying, no doubt. To take up a new doctor and then discard him for the old one, car ries absurdity and whim on the face of it. All I eau say is that if my advice had been taken it would never have happened." Then Amy found words. •• Discard whom? What nonsense is it you are all talking t What authority has any one here to dispose of--my affairs in this summary manner I" Mrs. I.escar raised her face trout Frank's unskilled manipulations to look ut Amy. " What is the use of getting so excited about it ?" she said to herself ; and then she added, aloud, " Gently, Amy, you forget yourself." " Forget myself ! I think lam forgotten, rather. What is it they-mean ? Am Ito have no voice in the matter ? It concerns me a little, I believe. Were they legislated for in this sort of way, 1 wonder—were you, Joanna, when you married Mr. Lester ?" Fox so young a widow Joanna was very calm, indeed, and even smiling. shout her an• sw er. " That Was altogether different. 'Dr. Seeker has his way to make in the world, and there fore the two cases do not admit of comparison. But if 1 had been legislated for, as you term it, I should have known thnt it WB9 for my own good." '• It is not lir any good," said Amy. "1 shall never be good it'—lint 1 care nothing about it ; lam not going to take back. my promise because you all choose to setme aside like a piece of furniture or u spoiled child." "My dear Amy," said Sir Francis, "no body accuses you of being spoiled ; but you are a child. Yqu are under age, and must re member that I atn your guardian. lam bound to say what I think of this very foolish affair— Ican call it nothing better. Indeed U l la alto gether out of the question. Any engagement would be out of the Atiestion at present. I menu that you mustsee a little more of the mad before you decide that It contains noth ing so attractive as the lot of a country doc tor's wife down at Bedford. Sir Francis smiled when his speech was made, and sent.a sort of inploring look at his ward to spare him any farther argument upon a subject which he did not admit of two opini ons. But Amy rose front the breakfast-table, opened the French windon, and went out, without answering, into the shrubbery. The stolid complacency of Lady Crevillon's face was odious to her. All that her ladyship coup do she would ; _and Amy knew well enough that a solid block of obstiffacy offered ten times more resistance than the flying out breaks of remonstrance or anger to which Sir Francis might give vent. As she passed through the shrubbery Frank came rtfnning after her, and held out a shawl. "Joanna says you'll have to be nursed if you get 11l again, and you are to put this on." Amy's first impulse was to thrUst away the shawl, and pass on but a second thought made her take it. " Tell Joanna my life is more valuable to me than it ever was," she answered. Never mind about anderstanding il. Frank ; dell her that.- Do you think I'm 'a baby retorted nib hoy, nodding. •• But if I were you I'd he ill again. and'then Seeker would have to come. Mind, I don't say you are to do it, but I should. Seeker gave me a jolly good gallop on his bay mare yesterday ; and he's got the primest fishing-rod you ever saw." Amy walked on into the park, and reached a spot where a clump of ash trees partially hid the llykelmm chimneys. She wanted to be out of sight and sound of the house below ; to get away from all memory of those jarring voices, with their calm decisions and phleg matic platitudes. What did they know about it, any of them ? What ditl'ioanna. who was young, and ought to know. reel in that dull, passive heart of hers Y" •• If you get ill you'll have to be nursed.'' That was all they cared for her, any of them. She did not complain of that ; she did not want them to care now. Only, when there was one who did earn why must they set their faces against him, and talk about seeing the world Y She wanted nothing more out Of the world than had been given to her—one heart out of it all for her own. A clock in the ungainly tower which marked the Bykehum stables struck ten, and she started up with a sudden recollection that eleven was the hour for the meet at Bedford Bridge, and she had told Carl she should be there. And she had to go hack to the house and dress. • Which shall I do," she reflected, •' in just tun minutes. I Must go after saying I should. Ile might be there." She did not consider how very improbable it was that the doctor would have any time to spare for such a purpose. She knew, indeed, as a general fact, that he was busy front morn= ing till night; brit she did not apply the knowledge in this case. No one made any remark when she went downstairs dressed to go with Lady Crevillun and Joanna. They seemed to take it lis a matter of course that this little affair was of no consequence—a trifle which would bloW over and make nu difference. The less said about it the better. •f If Dr. Seeker makes a formal application to you," said Lady Crevillon, "of course you will decidedly refuse your conseut.'• Sir Francis bit his lip. lie was fond of considering himself totally unbiassed by his wife, and dependent only on his own judg ment. He said, briefly, " I shall think about it. Too violent un opposition would be as foolish as compliance." • And the subject was dropped. He rode down to the Meet beside his wife's carriage, very silent the whole time, looking at Amy occasionally with some faint stirring of pity and sympathy coming up from under the weight of years and going forth towards her. This young doctor was a fine, generous fel low ; there could be no doubt about that ; and then ho came. of a good family. As to his generosity, ask the starving poor, who huddled together in the back-slums and alleys of Red. ford. As a magistrate, and chairman of the Board of Guardians at the Redford Union, Sir Francis knew a little more of these miserable paupers than his wife did, and of the doctor who never refused to help them, and never asked a fee from those who could not afford to give it. Did Amy really curl• very much for hint Would It hurt her to give him up. Didsithe care as much as he, the baronet, had cared years ago, when—. •• Fish !" ejaculated Sir Francis, fretfully ; what's the use of that ?" It did not look like Ikeing unhappy, lie thought, to come of her ovvn free will to see the hounds throw off. She should go with him and Lady Crevillon up to town, and that would shake it all off, if he knew anything of a girl's nature. When they reached the bridge and stood amongst a crowd of other carriages, men in red coats and men in black coats, ready mounted, and a park of motley followers on foot out of the town, Sir Francis went to Amy's side and spoke good humondly. If the carriage follows far enough you'll tee one or two of those ladies take the fence up at Peeket's wifliy•lfed in gallant style. Don't you wish you were mounted ":" No, Sir Francis." 'Tke baronet turned away disappointed. He wanted to forget all that little morning scene; and to get. over the effects of it, and Amy's respectfully antagonistic reply vexed him. Nevertheless he told the coachman to keep up with the others as far as Peeket's with Y-bed ; and Atny did see one or two ladies take the fence, from which sight she turned away utter ing a single word of disapproval, which might perhaps be partially due to her disappoint ment in not having seen anything of Dr.becker. It's what I. never could do in my life," said Joauffa, bonding forward with some show of eagerness. " But those girls are more at home in the hunting-field than the ball-room. Their costume' ast night was al,. surd in the extreme.. We shall see what sort of figure they Cut at luncheon." • " In ni7i young daps," old Lady Crevillon, " I could have taken such a fence as that 1113 self ; but I , elthan did it. I don't think fast young ladies were admired in thn•e days. Now we had bettergo home ; there in never any ruit to ~ p eak of here, eVell it they find, which k doubtful, unit 1 .hould like to he comfortably at home before the people bi . Ulll to come N 0.." It was some titw• lifter tido . : that Dr. tb , eker. riding slowly up the rend towards Redford. saw the carriages turn one after another into the. Dykeltam drive; and math! not help -stop ping to look after them. Ile scanned the scarlet cloaks, the black hat. with iheir tiny white feathers, the tiger-skin rugs and the heraldic devices with an unquiet mind. It was not altogether Matt he had thought to find Amy Crevillon amongst them anol failed. The contrast which all this presented to hint• self on his jaded horse, himself worn out and hungry, and the commonplace home, with it• commonplace appliances, to which he was go • lug. pressed upon lain oncomfortably. What had he done? Wind would the world, at least its representatives in this neighborhood, say he had done They talked of Miss Uri. villon as an heiress. That the soppositiMt was as likely to be fake a, true he believed. lie carml nothing about it. lint then us ho would believe find of him lle turned away front the . l)ykelmni lodge and ints:vil on. Ile wear home and ate hl+ dinner drearily, wondering if Amy had told Sir Francis, and if so. what had Sir Frant.h. ; and lastly, what would Sir Francis ut to it letter which wa, eyon thou is llollrsl. of toilt;'4 mind t . CIL.\I''I'EI ILI =SI f t ',hone already in the evening sky, w bile t h departing :sun scattered tints or gold and purple over the earl It, and threw long Aadows down front the trees in the Uy helium shrubbery. For a whole month until now 1)1.. Seeker had seen .t-my but once', toad that once acci dentally. Coining out or that region in the town of MAME(' which teas called emphati cally the Irkti quarter, Carl. emerging sod denly into one or the broader.streets, saw. the dark-blue panels of .the Dykehain carriage a it drove past. He saw also a quick, impul sit,, and openly eager recognition of hims . eli as lie stood in that dark opening which led to the Irish quarter, Mid he forgot all the misery he had 101 l behind hint to follow - hi his lliolighlb that carriage up toe Dykehant drive. Ile had seen her, and had been recognized. It was odd, he thought, that his sense of contrast should so pertinaciously trouble him. There was something false about it, he knew, botue thing which would nut bear analysis. Only, the thing was, hail he been wise and right to bring Amy down from this luxurious life of hers? Was it right or hit. to wish that she could share his anxieties :old cares as well as his joys. Dr. Seeker could not answer the question to his own satisfaction. If he had been less thoughtful and clear-sighted he might have said, She shall never know anything but joy my cares 1 will keep from her ;" lint he knew lietter than to say so, or to think so. Since t hat meeting in Redford, however, the aspect of affairs laid changed a little. I'h• doctor had got his answer from Sir Frauds, and found himself hardly able to comprehend his own position. Sir Francis represented himself its standing in the place of Amy - '+ father. Ile could nut give his consent to his ward's entering into any such engagement as the one Dr. Seeker did her the honor to prii pose—at present. lie considered that she was very young—too young, indeed, to know her own.mind. He required that she should see a little more of the world before entering into one of those rack compacts which young poi. ple are so ready to make and so apt to regret. He (lid not wish to be tyrannical.; so far as he could sbk , there was 110 IWed ally violent rupture between his ward and Dr. Seeker. Such things were always remarked upon and productive of mischievous gossip. Ile thought it better, however, that they should not meet often just at present; and then Sir Francis 'nosed a little and finished oil', leaving the doctor ill a hopeless maze of uncertainty and confusion. It seemed to libb that the whole thing wits treated in the slightest possible way, as all affair of no importuned, which was, in tact, exactly the view Sir Francis wished to be taken of It. Ile did not wish to oppose his ward with any strength or entreaty or cum. nand ; it would, he thought, be both trouble. some and productive of harm instead of gond ; and /lb lie meant to remove her from the doe. tor's neighborhood, there was no need absii lutely to forbid their meeting at preSeut. • But the doctor lid not wait to he forbidden ; he would not go to Dykehani to put himself in the way of being insulted by Lady Crevil. lou or her husband. Ms resolution might have failed him; the fever of indignation and pride into,whieh he had worked himself might not have been strong enough to keep him away when he heard about the town journey ; but before he did hear of it chance favored him., He saw Amy at the Dykeham lodge in passing, and then all his anger, and pride, and self-torment lied away, and in another mo ment he was walking up the drive with her. Be would do nothing underhanded ; If he met her and spoke to her they should know that
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