Part 70 (1/2)

She saw the stars in the water and thought she was going to them; and perhaps, on the Great Day, that thought, that imagination may plead for her.

It was a mad love, a cruel, mad love.

Some instinct came to Lord Chandos when he read that letter that all was not well. He started at once for Rashleigh.

The morning sun was high in the heavens when he reached there. Going at once to the mill-stream, he had seen the body of the woman he loved floating there, her long hair tangled in the water-lilies, a smile such as comes from perfect peace on her face.

He did the wisest thing he could have done--he brought Farmer Noel to the spot, and told him the story, while she lay with her face raised to the morning skies--the story of a mad love.

Farmer Noel uttered no reproaches.

”I never thought she would live a happy life or die a happy death,” he said--”it was written so in her face.”

They two kept the secret. In a small place like Rashleigh such an occurrence is a nine days' wonder; every one believed that the hapless lady had fallen into the stream as she was pa.s.sing to the woods.

Although the farmer grieved sorely after her, he never told any one that she was his niece, and no one recognized her.

There was a verdict of found drowned, and every one thought the farmer very generous because he undertook the funeral expenses.

How Lord Chandos grieved, no words could tell--it was as though the light of his life had disappeared; he never spoke of his sorrow, but it made him old in his youth and killed the best part of his life in him.