Only a Woman's Heart. The story of a woman's love: a woman's sorrow

Front matter

BY THE SAME AUTHOR. FOR GOD AND THE CZAR. A Story of extraordinary power and of the most absorbing interest. One Volume, 3s. 6d. The following is a copy of a letter received by the Author from the Chief Rabbi in London (Dr. Adler) : — [Copy.] Office of the Chief Rabbi, " 22, Finsbury Square, London, " August Wth, 1S02. " My dear Sir, "I have avaifed myself of my holidays to read your story, ' For God and the Czar.' Your book vividly represents the evils of an autocratic Government, and powerfully accentuates the sufferings of my unhappy feffow religionists in Russia. "May the Almighty move the heart of the Czar to have some pity on his unoffending children. " Believe me, " Yours faithfully, (Signed) " H. Adler. "J. E. Muddock,. Es<^, F.R.G.S." The book is now in its fourth edition, and is on sale at every bookseller's and bookstall throughout the United Kingdom.

Xonoon : GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED, S, 9, 10, AND 11, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, AND EXETER STREET, STRAND. THE STORY OF A WOMAN'S LOVE: A WOMAN'S SORROW. ny J. E. MUDDOCK, AUTHOR 07 "MAID MARIAN AND R011IN HOOD," STORIES WEIRD AND WONDERFUL," " FOR GOD AND THE CZAR," " STORMLIGHT," "THE DEAD MAN'S SECRET," " AS THE SHADOWS FALL," "FROM THE BOSUM OF THE DEEP," "a WINGLESS ANGEL," ETC, ETC. Si Vamour est un vice, c'est un vice plus beau que toutes les vertus. XcmC>on : GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED, 8, 9, 10, AND 11, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, and EXETER STREET, STRAND. 1S94. CONTENTS.

Chapter I. The Silvery Voice

In the gloaming of a beautiful summer's evening, the steamer Shamrock, carrying Her Majesty's mails, cast off her warps at Holyhead Pier, and amidst the roar of steam, the cheer of the crowd on the pier, and the waving of handkerchiefs, started on her journey for Dublin. The passengers were of the miscellaneous class usually found on the Irish mail-boats, but being summer time there was a large muster of tourists, the majority of them having come down from London by the mail train. Amongst the first-class passengers was a young man, robust and ruddy-looking, and bearing the impress of one who had seen only the bright side of the world, and upon whom Fortune had smiled her sweetest smile. There was something striking in the appearance of this young fellow, quite apart from his broad shoulders and well-knit frame, as with dainty fingers he toyed with a cigar, from which every now and again he puffed little smoke rings and watched them curl lazily in the stagnant air.

His pose and general bearing seemed to indicate refined breeding. But in addition to this, anyone with the slightest power of observation could not have failed to be impressed by his handsome, frank, and honest-looking face ; a face that at once declared its owner to be a man of keen intelligence, and one who would not readily lend himself to a mean action. He was leaning against the door of the hurricane deck cabin, and his blue eyes were fixed dreamily on the fast shore. I This young man was Robert Boulcourt, M.D., and son of Richard Boulcourt, Esq., of Boulcourt Hall, Guildford, and formerly M.P. for the important borough of Irlam-on-the- Wold. Robert had only just emerged from the chrysalis state of medical studentship, and having passed a very successful examination, he had gained his diploma with honours, and was now going to enjoy a well-earned holiday.

He had studied hard, and his fellow-students had spoken of him as being " deuced clever," while his tutors had not been slow to pronounce him " an exceedingly promising young man." Being only three and-twenty years of age, it might well be said that life lay before him, aud everything seemed to point to a career that, though it might not be brilliant, would nevertheless be marked by sound usefulness. For no one could look into that face and note the open countenance, aud the resolute, expressive mouth, without coining to the conclusion that Robert Boulcourt would try to leave the world better than he found it. So far his career had been uneventful ; he had travelled a good deal on the Continent, and he knew his own country intimately. But this travelling had been done and the knowledge gained during his periodical holidays, for during his working days he had with characteristic persistency applied himself with great diligence to his studies, thus leaving himself but little time for anything outside his routine of duties.

And so from year to year he had gone on ; one year being very much like another, and nothing had ever occurred to interrupt the even tenor of his way. But now this journey that he was taking was destined to add a dark thread to the woof of his existence. A journey of pleasure, as he hoped, it was bound to be productive of some pain ; though had anyone whispered this to him then, he would have laughed at what would have seemed the absurdity of the notion. For was he not young, well endowed by Nature, well off by circumstances ; the son of a wealthy man, whose wealth would pass to him at his father's death ; of robust constitution, and without any vicious habits ? How, then, was it likely that a holiday outing to join a friend in Dublin, and with him journey to the Wild West, could be productive of pain ?

On the first blush it would have seemed as if he would have been perfectly justified in deriding any prophet of evil who might have croaked of coining gloom ; but men's lives are in fluenced by trifles that nevertheless have frequently momentous consequences. To all the many persons on pleasure and business bent who crowded the steamer, Robert Boulcourt was an utter stranger, as they were to him. Yet one of these strangers was to become to him as a Fate that should lead him into tortuous ways, and place many red days in the calendar of his life. It was a beautiful night. The gloaming had come like a soft, purple mantle that, gradually deepening and deepening in colour, had revealed myriads of jewel stars in the dark blue sky, the reflection of which, in the oily sea, trembled like living points of fire.

It had been a glorious day, and the golden beauty of the day had given place to the silvery splendour of the night. There was no wind, but a rolling swell caused the vessel to pitch a little, though this little exerted a marked influence on certain of the passengers on whom, in those agonizing moments, the beauties of the night were utterly lost. There were but few people about the quarter-deck, for those who were not sick had retired, fearing that they might become so, or because they were fagged with the day's travelling. Although there was an entire absence of wind, the night air was chilly, as is frequently the case in the summer time in England. Robert began to feel this chill a little, and as he tossed the fragment of his cigar into the sea, he turned to descend to the cabin with a view of getting a rug to throw over his shoulders.

Just as he was stepping into the hurricane cabin, from which the stairs descended to the saloon, somebody else was stepping out, and as a consequence he and this some body collided rather forcibly. " Really, I beg your pardon. I hope I haven't hurt you," he exclaimed, emphatically ; " but it is so dark here I really couldn't see." "Don't apologize, sir. It is I who am to blame," answered the somebody. This little incident was a commonplace one, and was not characterized by anything that could remove it above an ex ceedingly ordinary occurrence ; and when the somebody had uttered the rejoinder to his apology, she— for it was a she stepped out on to the deck and was swallowed up by the dark ness of the night. Instead of descending the stairs at once, however, and immediately forgetting all about this encounter, Robert stood irresolute, for there was something in the voice of the speaker that had touched a chord in his heart.

It was a voice so silvery, so sweet, so low, and yet withal filled — as it seemed to him — with an ineffable sadness, that he found himself speculating upon what sort of a person its owner was — young, that was indicated, for such a voice could not have belonged even to middle age — and he was half tempted to go out, on to the deck again and speak to her. But an instant's reflection showed him how absurd this would be. What excuse could he make for again addressing her ? The little contretemps having been apologized for by both persons, there the matter ended. Two utter strangers running against each other in the dark was a very commonplace affair, but even had Robert been ever so disposed to have followed the lady, he would not have known her again, for he had been quite unable to see her face in the darkness.

He descended at last to the cabin, which he found very stuffy, hot, and disagreeable, for a great number of people were lying about, and some of them were sea-sick. Having possessed himself, therefore, of some wraps, the young man was only too anxious to escape to the upper deck once more, where, although the night air was chilly, it was at least pure. Having procured a large folding chair, he selected a spot near the saloon skylight, and rolling himself well up in his costly rugs, he lit another cigar, and then, lying back in the chair, betook himself to dreaming. It was the time for dreaming— even wakeful dreams— though it was night ; for such a night at sea is always thought-breeding to reflective people. The great engine throbbed like an iron heart, and its pulsa tions thrilled through every plank and fibre of the vessel that ploughing up before her a great furrow of phosphorized sprays left in her wake a long, broad, glittering track that was like a quivering Milky Way.

Robert leaned back gazing at the stars which seemed to be swaying backwards and forwards, owing to the motion of the ship ; and this motion begetting a pleasant haziness of the brain, as it were, he began to doze a little ; but it was a singular thing that the voice of the lady with whom he had collided would ring in his ears. He heard it in the pulsing engine and the plaintive night wind, and do what he would he could not shut it out. If the voice had been a harsh or raspy one, the strong probabilities are it would have made no impres sion whatever upon him. But its clear intonations, its bell-like sounds, and the sadness with which it was tinged, haunted him, and do what he would he could not help wondering who the person was. Was she good-looking ? Was she fair or dark ? Where was she going to ?

Was she married or single ? Of course, these speculations were no doubt very foolish, and Robert, perhaps, would have been the first to confess that him self ; but then they were born of the idleness of the situation and the solemnity of the night, the glittering dome above, and the star-flecked sea below ; for there is always something impressive in these things, however unsentimental a person may be. Robert Boulcourt, like most young men of his age and temperament, was not without some poetical feeling, and some enthusiasm that was exceedingly liable to be roused to activity by passing circumstances that were in harmony with his moods. And his mood on this particular night being thoughtful — catching its tone as it were from the impressive surroundings of tranquil sea and star -jewelled sky — the silvery voice had swept like a breath over his heart-strings, and the vibrations had not yet ceased.

Having smoked his cigar out he tossed the stump overboard, and feeling drowsy, he drew his rugs well up about his head, and addressed himself to sleep. Youth, without care, seldom finds much difficulty in inducing sleep, and Robert was soon oblivious to all things mundane. How long he slept he did not know, but it must have been a considerable time. Then he awoke feeling very cold, for his rugs had slipped down, and the wind, which had increased, was blowing keenly. The sea was leaping in little wavelets that flashed like diamond-dust ; and the moon was rising and shed ding a track of trembling silver over the water. Robert awoke with the silvery voice still ringing in his ears. This time it was not fancy, but reality. There was no mistaking it, for there was something so insinuating about the tones that, once heard, they were not likely to be soon forgotten.

The owner of the voice was evidently on the other side of the skylight, and she, no doubt, like Robert, preferred to remain in the pure air of the upper deck rather than pass the night below in the fetid atmosphere of the crowded saloon. She was speaking now to a companion, and though the voice had lost none of its silveriness, there was the sharpness of anger in it. This is what Robert heard : — " I wish you would let me alone. I don't wish to go below. The smell of the cabin will be too much for me, and I shall be sick." " But you will take cold, and you have no rugs nor nothing," answered the person addressed, but in accents so harsh, so jarring, almost savage, that they contrasted strangely with the clear voice of the younger person. For the last speaker was beyond all question of doubt far from young, and her accent betrayed a foreign origin.

" Never mind if I do take cold. None will suffer but myself," returned the young woman, with a sort of despairing sigh " That is false," answered the older one, angrily. " I shall suffer : my husband will suffer : and we can't afford to have you on our hands as an invalid." " Oh, do leave me, please ! " exclaimed the first speaker. " I want to try and go to sleep, and you are annoying me now very much." " Very well ; as you will," was the answer ; " but I have warned you. I am going down into the cabin to sleep." Robert heard this person shuffle off, and the younger one drew a deep sigh The little dialogue that he had thus inadvertently listened to spurred him into new interest in the owner of the silvery voice, and he began forming all sorts of theories as to what she was and her position in life.

The few words which had come to him were pregnant with deep meaning, for they told two things very unmistakably : first, that the young woman was not very happy in her mind ; and secondly, that she and the older person were not on the most lovable terms. That the young woman was not a tourist on a journey of pleasure was rendered pretty clear by the words of her companion — " I shall suffer ; my husband will suffer ; and we can't afford to have you on our hands as an invalid." There was something cold and heartless in them, and were such as an unfeeling employer might address to a servant. But the person addressed could hardly occupy a position so menial as a mere servant, for servants did not usually travel as saloon passengers ; while again, it was most difficult to associate the owner of that sweet voice with a menial place in life.

Such thoughts as these coursed through Robert's brains, until there gradually grew upon him a most powerful curiosity to know the solution of the little mystery. Under other circumstances and in another place it might have seemed no mystery at all, and scarcely have caused him a moment's serious thought : but the fact of his being at sea, that this young person was his fellow-traveller, and that the hour was the solemn one of midnight, served to give an importance and a certain mystery to a few lightly uttered words. " I should like to know who she is," he found himself mentally exclaiming. " What is she travelling to Ireland for, and why in the company of a foreigner who is evidently without any sympathy for her ?" It was impossible for him to help these questions arising in his mind, and at last, impelled by a curiosity that he could not resist, he rose and walked to the other side of the deek.

The moon had now risen sufficiently to make every object fairly distinct, and he beheld the form of the young woman reclining in a chair similar to the one he himself had been occupying. Although he tried hard to do so he could not see her face, for not only was it in the shadow thrown by the skylight, but it was covered with a thick veil. He noticed, however, that she had no wraps about her, which surprised him much, for the air now was quite cold. He returned, therefore, to his own chair, and brought back a costly and heavy bear-skin rug, with the intention of offering it to her. But at first his courage failed him, and he took a few turns up and down the deck, until his resolution grew strong again. Then, stopping in front of her, he said with all the grace and suavity he could summon to his aid : — " Pray excuse me, miss, but I note you are without a rug, and the air is so cold now, I am sure you cannot be comfortable.

Permit me the pleasure of lending you mine." " Oh, thank you, you are very kind, but I don't need it," she answered, sweetly, as she sat up straight and laughed a little. Robert grew bolder from the gentle manner in which she spoke, and said : — " Do let me beg of you to take it. I am sure it will add to your comfort and enable you to get some sleep." " But what will you do ? " " Oh, I have another," he answered, cheerfully, as he dropped the rug on to her knees. " What a beautiful soft skin," she returned, in a tone that plainly showed how thankful she was for the warmth the fur would bestow ; and instantly she pulled it well up about her throat and buried her hands deep in its soft folds, and added, with a grateful sigh, " I am so much obliged to you, but I do hope you will not be inconvenienced."

" Not at all," he said with a laugh. " I have a second rug on deck here, and another below in the cabin if I need it." Having said this, he felt that he had said all there was to say on the subject, and the situation became embarrassing. For while yearning to learn something more about her, he was too well-bred to force himself upon the attention of a lady to whom he was an utter stranger. The little kindness he had shown her was warranted by a traveller's privileges, but those privileges did not justify him in becoming a bore. She, with a woman's quickness, was no doubt equally alive to the em barrassing nature of the situation, and, being deeply grateful for the attention, she felt that she ought to say something more, so she remarked : — " I believe we shall reach Dublin quite early in the morning, so I hope you will come for your beautiful rug in time."

" Oh, yes," he answered, laughingly; " though even if I should forget it, I shall not grieve very much." Then, with a view of prolonging the conversation, he ventured on the question : " I presume you are going to see some friends in Dublin ? " No, sir ; I have no friends there." There was such manifest sadness in the manner in which this was uttered that Robert could not be insensible to it, and he found himself sympathizing with this young woman as though he knew her intimately and was acquainted with her history. " I am distressed to hear that," he remarked, thoughtfully, and almost involuntarily being led away for the moment by his aroused sympathies for this — as he began to think — forlorn young stranger. " I am sorry if I should seem to be impertinently curious, but I should like to ask if you are going to a situation in Dublin ?"

"I am going to fulfil an engagement," she returned, after a pause and with evident reluctance. Robert noticed this hesitation on her part, and he was sorry he had asked the question, for he believed that he had wounded her vanity, and forced her to make a humiliating confession. " I regret that I have been so rude," he murmured, apolo getically, and feeling more and more sympathy for her, as in his own mind he came to the conclusion that she was a gover ness, and possibly the representative of some good but reduced family. " Oh, indeed, sir you have not been rude," she exclaimed, quickly, as if anxious to remove any such impression from his mind. " I am glad to hear you say that, for I would not willingly be so ; but the fact is, you and I have met before." " Indeed ! " she cried in amazement.

" Where ? " " On board," he answered, with a smile. " Our meeting was a forcible one. We came into collision at the door of the hurricane house." " Oh, you were the gentleman I ran against ! I am sure I feel quite ashamed of myself for my clumsiness." " On the contrary, it is I who ought to be ashamed." Then, after a pause, he added, with some little warmth, " Do you know, I am already getting quite interested in you ? I wish you would give me permission to come and sit near you and have a chat." " If you wish to come I cannot prevent you ; but I am afraid you will find my company very dull." " We will see," he said, with a laugh, as, hurrying down into the cabin, he procured another rug, and returning on deck again he moved his chair over to the other side, where the unknown young woman sat.

" Permit me to offer you another rug," he said, and without waiting for her answer, spread a second wrap over her knees, and then, enveloping himself in his remaining one, he took up his position as near to her as propriety permitted. He felt a strong desire to see her face, which she still kept closely veiled ; but even if it had not been so, his desire could have been only partially gratified at present, owing to the want of light. And so this very foolish young man — sensible enough in most things, but foolish enough in this — found himself sitting alone with a strange young woman on the deck of a steamer on a star-lit night ; and he was gazing at the stars and dreaming impossible dreams.

Chapter II. Under The Stars

" Do you object to smoking ? " he asked, after an awkward pause, at the same time producing his cigar-case. " Not at all ; I like it." So he struck a light, and in doing so artfully contrived to let its glare flash upon the face of his companion. It did not reveal him much, but in the brief moments while the light lasted he gathered that she had an exceedingly pretty mouth. When he had lit his cigar to his satisfaction he took a few hearty puffs, as if he hoped thereby to derive inspiration, but he could attain nothing less commonplace than the hackneyed remark that it was a beautiful night — though it proved the means of striking a key-note for the after conversation. "It is glorious," she answered; "and I enjoy it so much because it is the first time I have ever been to sea." " Indeed ! Then I understand how you will be impressed by the novelty.

You are fortunate in having such fine weather. I have crossed several times, but I never remember a better passage." " I am so glad," she replied ; " for mamma and I were terribly afraid I should be very ill. I am sure I should have been, too, if I had remained down in the cabin." " You have a mamma, then ? " Robert remarked, insinuatingly. " Certainly I have." " And do you live in London ? " "Yes." " Your father, perhaps, is dead ? " She hesitated, and Robert was angry with himself for having been so thoughtless as to ask such a question. He was about to excuse himself when she made answer : — "No, sir, he is not dead." Then with a forced laugh she added : " But I cannot permit myself to be catechized by a stranger in this way." " I am so sorry I have offended you at this early stage of our acquaintance," he murmured, sadly.

" Oh, pray don't think I am offended," she cried, gaily. " How can I be offended when you have been so kind to me ? I am sure I was shivering with cold before you lent me your rugs, and now I am as warm as a toast." " It is a great gratification to me that 1 have been able to render you even such a trifling service as that. I presume to think that you are going out into the world for the first time, and from a few words I heard of a conversation between you and another lady, it strikes me you are not commencing your career under the happiest auspices." " Oh ! what did you hear ? " she cried, with great eagerness and anxiety. " Nothing that was compromising to you," he answered, to reassure her ; " but I was impressed with the idea that your companion did not speak kindly." "I assure you, you are mistaken," returned the young woman.

" She is kind enough, but a little rough in her manner." "Well, some people have a curious way of showing kindness," Robert half muttered to himself. Then, addressing his companion again, he seemed impelled, in spite of himself, to remark, " She is your employer, is she not ? " He was quite sensible of the fact, dark as it was, that this question caused the young woman considerable uneasiness, if not absolute pain. He knew this by instinct, as it were, and he blamed himself in no measured terms for allowing his tongue to run away with him in such a manner. " Well — yes," answered the young woman at last ; " that is, I have accepted an engagement in her husband's troupe." " She is connected with a circus, then ? " said Robert, as he interpreted the word troupe to mean that, and feeling more and more interested in his unknown companion.

" Oh, indeed, no," was the answer, and the silvery voice seemed to indicate indignation that such a thing should have been supposed for a moment. "She is a celebrated singer, and her husband is the proprietor of an opera company." Robert was half tempted to utter a whistle of amazement at this revelation, for it was so different to what he had antici pated, and, moreover, it added a little romance to the situation. " She is a very ingenuous young woman,' 'he thought ; " and I don't think I shall have much trouble in speedily learning her entire history." Then he debated with himself whether he should proceed to this length or not, and at last he decided, and he was perfectly earnest, that he would endeavour to improve upon the acquaintance thus strangely begun in order to find out whether he could be of any service to this young person.

Perhaps there was in this resolution some trace of chivalry; but certainly he was honest and honourable, and Robert Boulcourt's friendship was not a thing to be altogether despised. " Is it your first engagement, miss ? " he queried. " Yes. I have never been away from home before." " Really, I am getting quite interested," he remarked, " and, except that it might seem like vulgar curiosity, I would seek to know the reasons that have prompted you to take so serious a step." " Oh, there is no mystery about it," she said, somewhat scorn fully. " I am anxious to assist my mother, who has suffered a cruel reverse of fortune during the last few years, through the failure of a bank, and she has had to support her family — my self and two young brothers — by teaching music. I am told that I possess an excellent voice, and I am determined to try and relieve my mother of the burden she has so long borne, and make my voice bring in money."

Robert felt that the situation was growing still more romantic, and with a view of paying his unknown companion a compliment, he said : — "Your efforts, I should say, are most praiseworthy; and, though I have no means of forming an opinion of your voice from a musical point of view, I may say it's sweetly pretty as I hear it. In fact, it has been ringing in my ears ever since you uttered your apology, after we had run against each other a couple of hours or so ago." Could he have seen her face as he said this, he would have observed that his words had caused it to become scarlet. She shifted a little uneasily in her chair, and remarked :— " I beg that you will not flatter me. I do not like flattery.' " I assure you, on my honour, I am paying you no idle com pliment," he said, with marked emphasis.