Cruel as the grave
review. His heart became the prey of bitter-sweet reflections, made up
of gratified self-love and of severe self-reproach.
"That beautiful creature _does_ care for me, and is pained by my
coldness! Ah! but I hope and trust she loves me _only_ as a sister loves
a brother! She has no brother, poor child! And her heart must have some
one to lean on! I must be that one, for she has chosen me, and I will
not be so recreant to humanity as to reject her trust."
Then his conscience smote him. And he felt that he had shown more
tenderness for this lady than the occasion called for, or than his duty
warranted. He had called her "dear;" he had kissed her hand; he had
asked her if she loved him! And this in the face of all his late
protestations to his wife!
Lyon Berners was an honorable man and devotedly attached to his wife,
and he was shocked now at the recollection of how far he had been drawn
away from the strict line of duty by this lovely blonde!
But then he said to himself that he had only caressed and soothed Rosa
in a brotherly way; and that it was a great pity Sybil should be of such
a jealous and exacting nature, as to wish to prevent him from showing a
little brotherly love to this lovely and lonely lady.
And worried by these opposing thoughts and feelings, Lyon Berners left
his sofa and began to pace up and down the length of the drawing-room
floor.
In truth now, for the first time, the mischief was done! The siren had
at last ensnared him, in her distress and dishabille, with her tears and
tenderness, as she never had done in the full blaze of her adorned
beauty, or by the most entrancing strains of divine melody.
While Lyon Berners paced up and down the drawing-room floor, he seemed
to see again the tender, tearful gaze of her soft blue eyes upon him;
seemed to hear again the melting tones of her melodious voice pleading
with him: "How have I been so unhappy as to offend you, Mr. Berners?"
What a contrast this sweet humility of friendship with the fiery pride
of Sybil's love!
While he was almost involuntarily drawing this comparison, he heard the
wheels of the carriage that brought Sybil home roll up to the door and
stop.
From her morning drive through the bright and frosty air, Sybil entered
the drawing-room blooming, and glowing with health and happiness. For
since that full explanation with her husband, she had been very happy.
Lyon Berners hastened to meet her. And perhaps it was his secret and
painful consciousness of that little episode with Rosa, that caused him
to throw into his manner even more than his usual show of affection, as
he drew her to his bosom and kissed her fondly.
"Why!" exclaimed Sybil, laughing and pleased, "you meet me as if I had
been gone a month, instead of a morning!"
"Your absence always seems long to me, dear wife, however short it may
really be," he answered earnestly. And he spoke the truth; for
notwithstanding his admiration of Rosa, and the invidious comparison he
had just drawn between her and Sybil, in his heart of hearts he still
loved his wife truly.
She threw off her bonnet and shawl, and sat down beside him and began to
rattle away like a happy girl, telling him all the little incidents of
her morning's drive--whom she had seen, what she had purchased, and how
excited everybody was on the subject of her approaching fancy ball.
"The first one ever given in this neighborhood, you know. Lyon," she
added.
And having told him all the news, she snatched up her bonnet and shawl
and ran up-stairs to her own room, where she found her thin housekeeper
engaged in sorting out laces and snivelling.
"Why, what's the matter now, Miss Tabby?" cheerfully inquired Sybil.
"Well, then, to tell you the truth, ma'am, I am dreadfully exercised
into my own mind," answered Miss Winterose, wiping a tear from the tip
of her nose.
"What about, now?" gayly demanded Sybil, who felt not the slightest
degree of alarm on account of Miss Tabby, knowing that lady to be a
constitutional and habitual whimperer.
"Then, it's all along of the wickedness and artfulness and deceitfulness
of this here world."
"Well, never mind, Miss Tabby; you'll not have to answer for it all. But
what particular instance of wickedness frets your soul now?" laughed
Sybil.
"Why, now, there's where it is! I don't know whether I ought to tell, or
whether I ought'n to; nor whether, if I was to tell, I would be looked
upon into the light of a mischief-maker, or into the light of a true
friend!" whimpered Miss Winterose.
"I can soon settle that question of ethics for you," laughed Sybil, all
unsuspicious of what was coming.
"Do just as your conscience directs you, Miss Tabby, no matter how
people may look upon you."
"Very well, then, ma'am; for my conscience do order me to speak! Oh,
Miss Sybil! I have knowed you ever since you was a baby in my arms, and
I can't bear to have you so deceived and imposed upon by that there
treacherous, ungrateful White Cat!"
"White Cat?" echoed Sybil, in perplexity.
"Yes, Miss Sybil, that red-headed, false-hearted White Cat, as you took
into your house and home, for to beguile and corrupt your own true
husband!"
With a gasp and a suppressed cry, Sybil sank into her seat.
Miss Tabby, too full of her subject to notice Sybil's agitation,
continued:
"No sooner had your carriage left the door this morning, Miss Sybil,
than that there White Cat comes tipping on her tiptoes out of her room,
in a long loose dressing-gown, with her hair all down, in a way as no
real lady would ever be seen out of her own chamber, and she tips, tips,
tips into the drawing-room, where she knows Mr. Berners is alone, and
laying on the sofa!"
With a powerful effort Sybil controlled her violent emotion, held
herself still, and listened.
"And that was bad enough, Miss Sybil! but that was nothing to what
followed!" sighed Miss Tabby, wiping another tear from the end of her
nose.
"What followed?" echoed Sybil, in an expiring voice.
"What followed, ma'am, was this: but to make you understand, I must tell
you what I ought to a told you at the start, which is how it happened as
I seen her tip, tip, tip, on her tiptoes to the drawing-room, just for
all the world like a cat after cream. Well, I was up here, in this very
room where I am now, a sorting out of your fine things as come up from
the wash, and I found one o' _her_ lace handkerchers among yourn, fotch
up by mistake. So I jes took it and went down them back stairs as leads
from this room down to hern, to give her back her handkercher; when jes
as I got into her room, I seen her slip outen the other door leading
into the hall. So after her I goes, to give her her handkercher--which I
thought it was best to give it intor her own hands, than to put it
anywhere in her room, because I didn't know nothing about this forring
nuss o' hern; and you know yourself, ma'am, as we ought to be cautious
in dealing with strangers."
"Yes, yes! Go on! go on!" gasped Sybil.
"Well, ma'am, she flitted through them passages too fast for me, jes as
if she was afraid o' being caught afore she got out o' sight! I jes seen
her slip into the drawing-room, where I knowed as Mr. Berners was a
lying onto the sofa, and then I turns back and runs away."
"Oh, why didn't you follow her in?" groaned Sybil.
"Yes, why didn't I, ma'am; which I wish I had, and would a done if it
hadn't a been for that forring nuss a coming outen _her_ room, and a
screeching after me:
"'Missus Winterblossom! Missus Winterblossom!' which I allus told that
huzzy as I wasn't a 'missus,' but a 'miss,' nor likewise a 'blossom,'
but a 'rose.' Howsever, there she was, a yelling at the top of her
voice, 'Missus Winterblossom! Missus Winterblossom!' until I had to run
to her, only to stop her mouth!"
"Ah! the wretch! she was the accomplice of her mistress, and wished to
bring you away," breathed Sybil more to herself than to her housekeeper,
and in a tone too low to reach the ears of Miss Tabby, who continued:
"It was the baby, as had been eating of new chestnuts, and got the
cramp. So the forring nuss, as wasn't worth her salt, comes screaming
after me to come and do something for the baby. Of course I went and did
what was right and proper for the poor little suffering creetur; and
when I had put him to sleep, I thinks about his neglectful mother, and
so I ups and goes after her. And when I opens the drawing-room door,
ma'am--well, I sees a sight as strikes me intor a statty o' stone, or a
pillar o' salt, like Lot's wife."
"What? what?" panted Sybil.
"I seen 'em both, him and her, a sitting close together and a going on
jes like two lovyers as was going to be married to-morrow, or a bride
and groom as was married yesterday."
"How? how?"
"Well, ma'am, if her head wasn't a leaning on his shoulder, it was so
nigh it as it made no difference! And her hand was squeezed inter
hizzen, and her eyes was rolled up inter hizzen in the most be-devilling
way as ever I see in my life--for all the world as if she was a loving
of him, and a worshipping of him, and a praising of him, and a praying
to him, all in one gaze!"
"And he!--and he!"
"Oh, my dear honey! what can you expect of a poor, weak, _he-man_? He
looks down on her as if he enjoyed being loved and worshipped and
praised and prayed to, and he squeezes of her hand up to his mouth as if
he'd like to have eaten it!"
"_Oh, my heart! my heart!_" moaned Sybil, turning deadly pale.
Still, Miss Tabby, full of her own subject, scarcely noticed the pain
she was inflicting, so she continued:
"And jes that minute they happened either to see or to hear me, I don't
know which. Anyways, they looks up, and--whew! they jumps apart as if a
fire-cracker had gone off between 'em! Well, I tells my lady as her
child is sick, and she jumps up, impatient like, to go and look after
him. And I comes away too. And that was just about ten minutes before
you got home yourself."
"Deceived! Betrayed! Scorned! Laughed at!" bitterly exclaimed Sybil.
"And that's all. And now look here, honey! Don't you go to taking on
about this here piece o' business! And don't you get mad long o' your
husband on any woman's account, whatever you do! Come down on the woman!
That's what you do. It is all _her_ fault, not hizzen! _He_ couldn't
help himself, poor innocent creetur! Lor! honey, I don't know much about
married life, bein' of a single woman myself; but I have heard my mother
say as men are mons'rous weak-minded poor creeturs, and need to be
guided by their wives; and if they an't ruled by their wives, they are
sure to be by some other woman! And it stands to reason it is more
respectable to be ruled by their wives! And so, honey, my advice to you
is, to send that bad woman about her business, and take that innocent
man firmly in hand."
And so Miss Tabby babbled on, no longer heeded by Sybil, who soon
slipped away and hid herself in one of the empty spare rooms.
CHAPTER XIII.
MORE THAN THE BITTERNESS OF DEATH.
He to whom
I gave my heart with all its wealth of love,
Forsakes me for another.--MEDEA.
"Oh my heart! my heart!" moaned Sybil, as she sank down upon the floor
of that spare-room, the door of which she had bolted, to secure herself
from intrusion.
"Oh, my heart! my heart!" she wailed, pressing her hand to her side like
one who had just received a mortal wound.
"Oh, my heart! my heart!" she groaned, as one who complains of an
insupportable agony. And for some moments she could do no more than
this. Then at length the stream of utterance flowed forth, and--
"He loves me no longer! my husband loves me no longer!" she cried in