The Lost Lady of Lone | Page 6

girl," he said. "You have renounced the world, and
are pining for the convent. But you know nothing of the world. Give it
a fair trial of three years. Then you will be twenty-one years old, of
legal age to act for yourself, with some knowledge of that which you
would ignorantly renounce; and then if you persist in your desire to
take the vail--well! I shall then have neither the power nor the wish to
prevent you," added the wise old banker, who felt perfectly confident
that at the end of the specified time his daughter would no longer pine
to immure herself in a convent.

Salome, grateful for this concession, and feeling perfectly self-assured
that she would never be won by the world, kissed her father, and roused
herself to be as much of a comfort and solace to him as she might be in
the three years of probation. And she took her place at the head of her
father's magnificent establishment at Lone with much of gentle quiet
and dignity.
And now it is time to give you some more accurate knowledge of the
outward appearance and the inner life of this motherless,
convent-reared girl, who, though a young and wealthy heiress, was bent
on forsaking the world and taking the vail. In the first place, she was
not beautiful at all in repose. There can be no physical beauty without
physical health. And Salome Levison partook of the delicate
organization of her mother, who had passed away in early womanhood,
and of her brothers and sisters, who had gone in infancy or childhood.
Salome, when still and silent, was, at first sight plain. She was rather
below the medium height, slight and thin in form, pale and dark in
complexion, with irregular features, and quiet, downcast, dark-gray
eyes, whose long lashes cast shadows upon pallid cheeks, and which
were arched with dark eyebrows on a massive forehead, shaded with an
abundance of dark brown hair, simply parted in the middle, drawn back
and wound into a rich roll. Her dress was as simple as her station
permitted it to be.
Altogether she seemed a girl unattractive in person and reserved in
speech.
The very opposite of the handsome shepherdess of Ben Lone.
And yet when she looked up or smiled, her face was transfigured into a
wondrous beauty; such intellectual and spiritual beauty as that perfect
piece of flesh and blood never could have expressed. And she was a
"sealed book." Yet the hour was at hand when the "sealed book" was to
be opened--when her dreaming soul, like the sleeping princess in the
wood, was to be awakened by the touch of holy love to make the
beauty of her person and the glory of her life.

CHAPTER II.
AN IDEAL LOVE.
A few weeks after their settlement at Lone, Sir Lemuel Levison
returned to London on affairs connected with his final retirement from
active business.
Salome was left at the castle, with the numerous servants of the
establishment, but otherwise quite alone. She had neither governess,
companion, nor confidential maid. She suffered from this enforced
solitude. She had seen all the splendors of the interior of Lone, and
there was nothing new to discover--except--yes, there was Malcom's
Tower, which tradition said was the most ancient portion of the castle,
whose foundations had been dug from the solid rock, hundreds of feet
below the surface of the lake.
The tower had been restored with the rest of the castle, but had never
been fitted up for occupation.
Salome determined to spend one morning in exploring the old tower
from foundation to top.
She summoned the housekeeper to her presence, and made known her
purpose.
"Macolm's Watch Tower, Miss! Weel, then, it's naething to see within,
forbye a few auld family portraits and sic like, left there by the auld
duke; but there'll be an unco' foine view frae the top on a braw day like
this," said Dame Ross, as she detached a bunch of keys from her belt,
and signified her readiness to attend her young mistress.
I need not detail the explorations of the young lady from the horrible
dungeon of the foundation--up the narrow, winding steps, cut in the
thickness of the outer wall, which was perforated on the inner side by
doorways on each landing, leading into the strong, round stone rooms

or cells on each floor, lighted only by long narrow slits in the solid
masonry. All the lower cells were empty.
But when they reached the top of the winding steps and opened the
door of the upper cell, the housekeeper said:
"Here are deposited some o' the relics left by the auld duke until such
time as he shall be ready to tak' them awa'."
Salome followed her into the