Emile Zola - "Nouveaux Contes a Ninon"

John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1590(a)"

Christopher Pierce Cranch - "The Last of the Huggermuggers"

Ella Wheeler Wilcox - "Poems of Experience"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Herb of Grace

R >> Rosa Nouchette Carey >> Herb of Grace




"You have come here to talk to me?" with an air of well-simulated
surprise. "How could you know my habits? I think," a little stiffly,
"we have only met twice."

"You are quite right, Miss Jacobi. I spoke to you first in the porch
at Cookham church, and the second time at the Etheridges--as far as
that goes we are little acquainted with each other; but we have a
mutual friend, you and I." Then he saw her eyes suddenly droop.

"Forgive me if I am abrupt," he went on, "but the matter concerns me
intimately. I am informed that you are engaged to my friend Cedric
Templeton."

It was evident that she was prepared for this--the bolt out of the
blue had not startled her. She stood still and looked at him with an
air of proud displeasure.

"May I ask the name of your informant, Mr. Herrick?" she asked
coldly; but he saw that she knew.

"Why should I not have heard it from Cedric himself--we are close
friends?" but he watched her narrowly as he said this.

"Because he would be the last person to tell you." Then she checked
herself, as she saw the snare he had laid for her. "What if I am
engaged to him?" as though determined to brave it out; "it can
surely be no business of yours, Mr. Herrick." There was rising
temper in Leah's voice.

"You must forgive me if I say that I differ from you there--my
friend's interests are my own. Miss Jacobi, how can you reconcile it
to your conscience to injure that poor boy's prospects by entering
into a clandestine engagement with him?"

He could see her eyes flash with anger, but she made no reply.

"You know his position. He is utterly dependent on his sisters--his
father left him nothing; he has no profession; he has not even
finished his university training; he is far too young to think of
marrying."

She opened her lips to speak, and then closed them resolutely again.

"Pardon me if I am obliged to speak plainly, but I have no option.
This engagement cannot go on--you must set him free."

"Who says so--you, or Hugh Rossiter?" stopping and regarding him
with a frown that made her look for the moment like a beautiful
Medusa. Then she walked on again. "Excuse me, Mr. Herrick," very
haughtily, "if I say that I regard your interference with my private
concerns as unjustifiable impertinence. I refuse to discuss the
matter with you; I am going home. Tartar--Tim!" raising her voice.
And she turned and walked back so swiftly that he had some trouble
in overtaking her.

"Miss Jacobi," in an urgent voice, "I must speak to you. I am an
accredited ambassador from Miss Templeton and her sister--they have
asked me to speak to you."

"They must choose another ambassador then," and Leah walked on
faster.

Malcolm was at his wits' end. How could he compel this haughty and
obstinate young woman to listen to him? Then an idea came to him.

"If Miss Jacobi is so unapproachable," he said quietly, "perhaps the
Countess Ferrari will not refuse to listen to me?" Leah stopped
suddenly as though she had been shot, and her face grew white.

"What do you mean? How dare you call me that--do you want to kill
me!" But the expression in her eyes was not pleasant to see. For a
moment she seemed almost distraught.

"Hush--hush!" he said soothingly; "I would not have called you that
if I could have helped it; but you would not hear me. Let us go down
that little path; there is a seat there, and we will talk this out
quietly;" and taking her arm, he gently guided her to the bench.
"Sit down and recover yourself," he continued kindly; for she was
drawing deep breaths as though she were on the verge of an
hysterical attack. Malcolm felt secretly frightened at the result of
his experiment. It was clear to him that the mere utterance of her
married name almost maddened her--that for some occult reason it was
not safe to use it. Up to this moment she had played her cards well:
she had guessed his errand and had evaded and kept him at bay--first
by pretended ignorance, and next by refusing to discuss the
engagement with him. That he was Miss Templeton's mouthpiece and
messenger mattered little or nothing to her. No wonder Malcolm found
himself nonplussed. A moment later he heard his name called. Leah's
manner had changed; she was still very pale, but she had regained
outward calmness. "I will hear you now," she said in a low voice;
"but you must be more careful--if you mention that name again I must
leave you. What is the message you have for me from Miss Templeton?"

"You shall know directly; but there is one thing I must say first.
Miss Templeton and her sister are fully acquainted with your past
life--your parentage, your brother's occupations, and above all, the
fact that you have only recently become a widow--hardly more than
six or seven weeks ago."

He was standing before her as he spoke, and she tried to look at
him; but some sudden sense of womanly shame made her cover her face
with her hands.

"It was not my fault," she almost whispered; "I am not good, but I
am not so bad as that. Saul said it did not matter; and after that,
when I began to get uncomfortable, he told me a lie."

"You mean that he told you that your husband was dead?"

Leah shivered, and bowed her head in assent. Then as she saw
Malcolm's kind and pitying look, she continued in a low, constrained
voice, as though something compelled her to speak--"It was not all
Saul's fault. I ought not to have believed him, for he does not
always tell the truth. After a time I found out that it was a lie,
and then it was too late--Cedric knew I cared for him."

"You really care for him?" Malcolm was not aware how gently he
spoke, but his tone thrilled through Leah; her manner softened still
more, and her dark, unfathomable eyes were full of womanly
tenderness.

"Is that such a strange thing?" she asked in a dreary tone. "Could
not any woman love him?--so young, so fresh, so true--so different
from any one I have ever met in my unhappy life! What does it matter
that I am older--what has age to do with it, when two people care
for each other!"

"Ah, I will grant you that," returned Malcolm slowly.

"I shall make him a good wife," she went on, "and in the years to
come the old wounds will be healed, and I shall forget the terrible
past. Oh," recalling herself with difficulty," why am I talking to
you like this, and I have never even heard Miss Templeton's
message." Then Malcolm sat down beside her and gently repeated
Dinah's words.

"'Tell her from me that if she persists in marrying my poor boy, she
will be marrying a pauper; that on the day the marriage takes place
I shall alter my will, and that my sister Elizabeth will be my heir.
Tell her this, and I will write to Cedric.'"

There was no answer to this; but he could feel the tremor that
passed through her. "She has written," he went on, "and by this time
Cedric has her letter. Miss Jacobi, if you love this poor lad, how
can you have the heart to ruin him? Be generous, be merciful, and
set him free!" Then she turned upon him almost fiercely.

"Generous! merciful!--and who has ever shown me mercy! When my own
flesh and blood have traded on my beauty--my hateful beauty--and
sold me without pity or remorse. And now," still more passionately,
"you and his people want to come between me and happiness. You wish
me to give him up, but I cannot--I will not. I am not marrying him
for Miss Templeton's money," she continued indignantly, "but for
himself, and because we love each other. It is Saul who thinks of
the money; but he will not believe that message--he knows she will
not do it. Her sister Elizabeth is rich--rich, and we should be so
poor."

"You are wrong, Miss Jacobi, she will do it. Miss Templeton is
gentle and loving, but she is very firm. It is possible--nay,
probable--that she would continue Cedric's allowance, but in the
event of this marriage he will have nothing more from her."

"Do you mean that she would let him starve?"

"I mean that he would have to work for his bread as other men have
to work, and that his whole life, and yours too, will probably be a
failure. Miss Jacobi, I entreat you to listen to me for a few
moments--I am speaking for your good as well as his. May I tell you
what I think?" She made a movement of assent. Malcolm never could
recollect afterwards what he said to her; but his words, strong,
eloquent, convincing, seemed to overwhelm her like a torrent, and
yet his manner was perfectly quiet and calm.

He told her, without attempting to soften or palliate the fact, that
nothing would reconcile Miss Templeton and her sister to such a
marriage; that her brother's character was regarded by them with
abhorrence; that their cherished brother should marry the sister of
a billiard-marker--a mere adventurer and gambler--was utterly
impossible; and Leah's head was bowed low as she listened. He
touched delicately on her own past; but his few words were terribly
convincing. "You have spoken to me of Cedric's youth and freshness,"
he observed--"do you think that your past life with its sad
experiences make you a fit mate for him? You may tell me you are
only a few years older; but in knowledge of life he is a mere child
compared to you. It is in the name of his youth--his fresh,
unsullied youth--that I implore you to be generous and set him
free."

Malcolm said more than this--for his own love for Elizabeth made him
eloquent. He must do her this one service: he must deliver her young
brother out of the contaminating hands of these Philistines; and so
he reasoned and pleaded with Leah as he had never pleaded in his
life before.

Soon she was weeping; he could see the tears dropping into her lap.
Then suddenly, as a clock struck, she started up. "It is late--I
must go now or Saul will question me. Indeed--indeed I must go."

"But you will think over all I have said, and let me see you again?"
asked Malcolm anxiously.

"Yes, I will think over it; and if possible I will be here to-
morrow. But I cannot answer you now. You have made me very unhappy,
Mr. Herrick. What is it that the Bible says?--'There is no peace for
the wicked.' I must be wicked, for there is no peace for me."

"No--no, you must not say that," he returned kindly; "let me give
you my card, that you may know where to find me. Miss Jacobi, if you
will only bring yourself to do this thing, you will be a brave
woman, and I shall be your friend for life." But she only smiled
faintly as she took the card and asked him as a special favour not
to come any farther with her.

"Have I done any good?" thought Malcolm sorrowfully, as he walked
away. "Poor soul, how she loves him! Cedric was right, as I told
Miss Templeton: Leah Jacobi is more sinned against than sinning.
Nature intended her for a noble woman, but Saul Jacobi and Count
Antonio Ferrari have marred her handiwork." And all the rest of the
day Malcolm thought of Leah with strange kindness and pity.




CHAPTER XXXI

PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT


Many a one, by being thought better than he was, has
become better.
--JOWETT.

Not as little as we dare, but as much as we can.
--BISHOP OF WESTCOTT.


Malcolm wrote to Dinah that afternoon, giving her a full account of
his interview with Leah Jacobi; then he spent the rest of the day
making up arrears of work. The last post brought him a reproachful
little note from Anna.

"Mother thinks you have forgotten us. Why are you staying away in
this unmannerly fashion, you naughty boy?" she wrote. "It is ten
whole days since you were here, and we both feel lone and lorn
without you"--and so on. But under the playful words he could detect
a shade of earnestness.

Tired as he was, and needing rest sorely, he answered the letter and
posted it before he slept.

Anna read it aloud to Mrs. Herrick the next morning, and they both
agreed that it was a charming letter. The dear home people must
forgive his seeming neglect, it said, for it was not possible for
him to put in an appearance just yet. He was arranging a troublesome
affair for a friend that gave him a great deal of anxiety and worry.
He had been to Oxford, and might have to go down again, and he could
not spare an hour for social duties.

"Oxford--I wonder if the business concerns his friend Cedric
Templeton," observed Anna thoughtfully. But Mrs. Herrick only looked
grave and said she did not know, and that evidently Malcolm did not
wish to enlighten them. She spoke dispassionately and not in the
least as though his reserve troubled her; but Anna was rather absent
and distrait the rest of the day. She had watched Malcolm narrowly
and had come to the conclusion that he had something on his mind.
All his attempts at gaiety, his little jokes, his badinage, did not
deceive her for a moment. Trouble had come to him. In some ways he
was a changed man: he looked older, graver, and in repose his
features had a care-worn expression, as of one who has worked hard
in turmoil of soul. And this trouble--could it be connected in any
way with this mysterious Elizabeth, of whom he never spoke? Ah, that
was the question over which Anna pondered so heavily as her fair
head bent over her typewriter.

Malcolm had ordered an early breakfast again in his own room, but as
be sat down to it Hepsy brought him a note. A slip of a lad had
delivered it, she said, and was waiting for an answer.

Malcolm had never seen the handwriting before, but he at once
guessed it was from Leah--and he was right. It was written in
pencil, and was without any conventional beginning or end.

"I am not going out this morning--will you come straight to 12
Gresham Gardens? If you come early you will find me alone. Saul went
to Oxford last night, and will be back by mid-day. Send answer by
bearer."

Malcolm wrote a few words--"Many thanks. Will be with you as early
as possible;" then he made a hasty meal, for he felt there was no
time to be lost; and as he walked to Sloane Square station his
thoughts were full of perplexity. Why had Saul Jacobi gone down to
Oxford--on what new mischief was he bent? Malcolm felt he had good
reason for his fears. Cedric's weak, impressionable nature would be
like wax in the hands of this unscrupulous adventurer; he would
simply mould him to his will; the poor lad's passionate love for his
sister would be turned to account and made to further his own wily
purposes. Malcolm groaned inwardly, as he realised that their sole
chance lay with Leah herself. Her message had given him a shade of
hope, but he would not allow himself to be sanguine; he knew too
well that women of Leah's calibre were not always to be depended on;
in such cases one must reckon with moods and impulses. Her brother
dominated her; he was the evil genius of her life. How could any one
hope to influence her, when she, poor soul, lived under a reign of
terror? One might as well ask some wretched prisoner to break off
the fetters that bound him, as to expect Leah Jacobi to walk out of
that house of bondage a free woman.

Malcolm found it impossible to rid himself of these gloomy
forebodings; nevertheless he made such good speed that it was barely
half-past nine when he stood in the stone porch of 12 Gresham
Gardens. It was evident that he was expected, for though the maid
who admitted him regarded him somewhat curiously, she did not ask
his name, but conducted him at once upstairs to a handsome drawing-
room where a fire was burning.

The little fox-terriers, Tim and Tartar, began barking furiously at
the sight of a stranger; but before Malcolm could quiet them the
plush curtains that veiled the archway were thrown back and Leah
entered from an inner room.

Malcolm was quite shocked when he saw her face. She looked as though
she had spent a night of weeping, that had dimmed her beauty; the
hand she gave him was icy cold. Perhaps she read the silent pity in
Malcolm's eyes, for her lips quivered.

"I am not ill--not really ill," she said quickly; "only I have not
slept, and the night was so terrible. You were right to come early,
Mr. Herrick; sometimes Saul takes an earlier train than he says. He
has done that two or three times; he declares he never really trusts
me. He made me promise not to go in the Gardens this morning, so I
was obliged to stay at home."

"Will you tell me why your brother has gone to Oxford?" asked
Malcolm, with a keen, steady glance, under which she grew still
paler.

"Yes, I will tell you: he has gone to see Cedric. He was waiting for
me when I got back yesterday, and he saw at once by my face that
something had happened. Oh, you don't know Saul--when he means to
find a thing out he is like a gimlet, one has no chance at all. He
held my wrists until I told him everything--you can see how bruised
they are," and she showed him the purple marks. "Oh, how angry he
was! I never saw him in such a rage before, but it only made him
more determined to hurry on the marriage."

"He has no objection then to your marrying a pauper?" asked Malcolm
coolly, but inwardly he was boiling with impotent wrath.

"Oh, he will not believe that Cedric is poor," she returned sadly;
"he only laughs at the idea of Miss Templeton disinheriting him.
'She wants to frighten him, and to choke us off, but I know a trick
worth two of that,' was all he said; and then he cooled down, and
called me a little fool, and bade me bring him the time-table, and
ten minutes later he told me he was going to Oxford to arrange
things with Cedric."

"You mean about your marriage?"

"Yes; it was fixed for next week, but last evening I received this
telegram," and Leah put it in his hand. She had said all this in a
weary, mechanical voice, as though she were reciting a lesson she
had learnt by heart.

"Make preparations at once--Cedric returns with me--function day
after to-morrow, nine sharp--all arranged--hang results." Malcolm's
lip curled with disgust as he gave it back to her.

"Do you understand it?" she asked, as though distrustful of his
quiet bearing. "Saul has hurried things on because he is afraid. He
does not trust Cedric: he thinks he is weak and easily influenced,
and fears that you may get hold of him again; his one idea is to
have the marriage ceremony performed before Miss Templeton knows of
it."

"Ah, just so;" but Malcolm muttered "the villain!" between his
teeth.

"That is why I sent for you," continued Leah in the same dull,
inward voice; "because he and Cedric have fixed it for to-morrow,
and there is no time to lose. If he comes, and I were to see him
again," and here her voice broke and her eyes grew piteous, "I
should not have the strength to do it--to do what you want."

"What I want?" And then he added breathlessly, "Do you mean that you
will give him up?"

"Yes, I mean that," in a choked voice. "I must give him up--the only
creature I ever loved, and who was good to me. All night long I was
thinking of it, fighting and struggling for my poor little bit of
happiness; but you were right, Mr. Herrick, I love him too well to
drag him down to poverty and ruin, for Saul would ruin him, I know
that too well."

"I know it too. God bless you for this noble resolve," returned
Malcolm quickly; but she stopped him.

"Hush! not a word of praise; you do not know--I have been to blame
as well as Saul. But now what am I to do? they must not find me
here."

"No, of course not. Is there any friend to whom I could take you?"
But Leah shook her head.

"We have no friends, only a few acquaintances at Henley; but I could
not go to them. I might take a lodging somewhere, only"--here her
poor face grew crimson--"Saul never gives me any money, except a few
shillings at a time; he pays my bills or leaves them unpaid, but it
always makes him angry when I ask him for money."

"That need be no difficulty," returned Malcolm kindly. "Will you
allow me to settle things for you?" Then she looked at him
inquiringly, yet with an air of trust that moved him profoundly.

"Will you put on your walking things at once, while I make my
plans?" he went on. "Be as quick as possible; we must not lose
time." And she went off with the ready obedience of a child.

Malcolm hastily reviewed the situation. It was full of difficulties.
Where could he take her? He thought of his mother; then he
remembered that she was a woman of strong prejudices--she had her
own opinions and would decline to see with other people's eyes. Leah
would be to her merely an extremely dangerous and objectionable
young woman, and she would dislike the idea of Anna being brought
into contact with her.

The Kestons would help him, he knew that, and Verity would be a
trusty and faithful little counsellor; but Cheyne Walk was hardly
the place for her, and he would not be safe from Cedric.

For a moment he thought of the Wood House--they would never look for
her there; but he dismissed this idea the next moment. No; the Manor
House was their only resource. He would put her in Mrs. Godfrey's
care, and ask her to keep her safe until they had made their plans.
Mrs. Godfrey was a woman of the world; she would make allowances for
any human creature so broken and buffeted in the battle of life,
whose womanhood had been so tempted and crushed. His mother was
kind-hearted, but her sympathies were less broad, and she often
failed in tact. Leah would be to her a puzzling enigma. He felt with
shrewd intuition that it would be impossible for them to understand
each other.

"No, it must be my dear Mrs. Godfrey," he said to himself. "She is
more human; it is not her way to use a sledge-hammer when a lighter
weapon will serve her purpose; and then she never forces confidence,
she is the most tactful woman I know." Malcolm broke off abruptly
here as Leah entered the room. She wore the same dark red dress she
had worn the previous day, and had a travelling wrap over her arm.
She carried a small Gladstone bag, of which Malcolm at once relieved
her.

"I packed this last night," she said in a low voice, "and I wrote
this letter. Will you give it to him?" Then Malcolm glanced at the
address; it was to Cedric, and he put it carefully in his breast-
pocket.

"He shall have it," was his answer. "Now, if you are ready, we may
as well go."

"If we are quiet no one will hear us," she observed in the same
subdued voice. "The servants are in the back kitchen; I heard them
laughing and talking as I came downstairs."

Then she led the way, and Malcolm followed her closely. Leah's
remark about an earlier train had made him supremely uncomfortable.
What if they should come face to face with Saul Jacobi and Cedric as
they turned out of Gresham Gardens! The idea was unpleasant.
Fortunately, at that moment he saw an empty cab crawling towards
them, after the manner of growlers when a fare is wanted, and he at
once hailed it. Leah looked somewhat surprised when she heard him
direct the man to a pastry-cook's shop in the near vicinity of
Paddington station. She gave him a questioning glance.

"We cannot go straight to our destination until I am sure the coast
is clear," he explained. "There is an upstairs room at Falconer's,
and I am going to order you some luncheon, and you must do your best
to eat it. I shall have to leave you for a quarter of an hour or so,
until the Oxford train is in."

"You mean to go to the station?" she asked nervously.

"Oh, Mr. Herrick, is that wise? Saul is so sharp-sighted, if he sees
you he will guess that you have been to Gresham Gardens."

"He will not see me," returned Malcolm confidently; "there is a
corner where I can secrete myself and watch the passengers go by.
When we are really off I will tell you our destination, but at
present I must ask you to have faith that I am doing my best for
you."

She smiled faintly and said no more. Five minutes later the cab
stopped, and Malcolm took her upstairs and found a quiet corner for
her. "You must take a few spoonfuls of soup," he pleaded, "for the
sake of appearances. Falconer is rather famed for mock-turtle." Then
he put down the bag beside her and went on his quest. It was more
than twenty minutes before he returned.

"It is all right," he observed. "They passed me quite close. We
shall be in the train before they reach Gresham Gardens. I think I
heard your brother say that they had better do their business
first." Leah shivered; she knew too well what that business was. A
quarter of an hour later they were on their way to Cookham.

Leah seemed very much startled and even alarmed when she learnt
their destination, and at first Malcolm found it difficult to
reassure her. "Mrs. Godfrey!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I scarcely know
her. Somehow she frightens me; her eyes seem to read one through and
through. And then the Etheridges will be so near."

"I believe they are abroad," replied Malcolm, "and not expected home
until the middle of December, so you need not trouble your head
about them. But indeed you are wrong about Mrs. Godfrey; she is a
dear woman, and the greatest friend I have. She is so warm-hearted
and true that she would go through fire and water for any one she
loved."

"Oh yes, no doubt."

"And not only for her friends," he went on, "for her sympathies are
world-wide. Trust her, my dear Miss Jacobi, and you will see how
good she is to you. She is not hard and censorious in her judgments,
she is far too well-balanced for that; if you can only secure Mrs.
Godfrey for a friend, you will need no other." But it was plain to
him that Leah was only half convinced; under her veil he could see
she was vainly trying to repress her tears, and his heart ached for
her.