COMPLETE TALES.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVI, Issue 30, 4 February 1905, Page 13

COMPLETE TALES.

the little brass cot the mofoer ' he dk" h« eyes asksd. Hia iips answered their mute appeal, -rifdaagw is over, Margaret; he will 5 %7% np hex hand (^iiiddy * * attempt to push back tbe crowdjTtears. WkWen!" *be_ vrhiabrokenly: -thank heaven. I The boy stirred, and the doctor laid bis Snger on the cleUcate wrist "The bos got ham,' he a S he Sosad to watch; 'it wl 1 hoki him ror hours Margaret." in a lower tone. I Znkyoa might thank mc i little. 3 ; She looked up. lie was saming at to across the cot. She smiled back viA eyes still wet. "I do thank you, Paul- yo n ]nicw tnaL l belaeTe naT_t T W£ rald hare died but for you. 0. it was horrible/ she went on. witd a saadder, -hoiriKe— when he spang up so suddenw diofchig and .gasping for brecth. I «a never tell yoa how frightened 1 was, you came so quieldy and you have done so much. When I write to Ned—" The doctor turned abruptly and walked to tbe door. Through the broad east window a gray ghost of dawn was creeping. In its pallid glimmer the massive famiinre took strange shapes. like un- j eoath. erocciiiag t'onsM. A heavy dark i mg at the doctors feet repulsed the j feeble daylight and showed against the polished floor like an open grave. The } wide stairway wound downward blackly. She had followed him to the door. "Are Jtm g 0 ™?, Paul"" she asked, ujsiously. '"You are sure Harry will j he all rigfrfc? With Ned so far ars-ay i 1 feel so frightfully anxions." ' "Indeed. I would act go. Margaret, j 2 there were the least thing more I \ amid io: but Harry is getting O n as ' well a3 possible. He will probably sleep i till 9 o'clock. I shall hxve the rrcxse here before be wakes. And I'll in ' myself sboirt n-oon. Margaret." tnmircT towanb lier. B ycm m'rst co to bed at once or you will be ill yourself. Teil., KaSe to sit by Harry, and proinisa mc toat yem wffl go to sleep directly I have | gone." "0, I shan't really go to bed," site replied: "but .1 will lie down on the' sofa, md Kate will call mc if he stirs. : Why. Paul, it is morning already. How dark the stairs are. Wars. I Trill get ; a. candle to light you down." ! Site entered the room again, arad. tak- j ins a tall candle in a silver ca-ndlesti-rk ' from her dressing ta>bie, lighted it as ' the low turned gas burner. As she ' passed the little cot she paused beside i it, looking down at the sipeprac: boy. | iiftpcl her hand to shad* 1 the j Her loose sleeve fesl back and all the ! ontline of her arm was disclosed. A strand of her brown hair had escaped j from its low coil and lay haiif carting i oa her shoulder. Her hand. curved i ihonl; the cainils flame, was tfe-ted like a rosy shell. From the dim hall the doctor watched her. "He is sleeping: so well , ' she said, brishtly. as she followed Mm slowly clown the stairs. "0. Rini. you have Lcen so good." tte bottom of the fligiit be turned ! and leaned against the bannisters, lookJ3g np. Siifl -was still some steps abo-re liiai—aa alluring picture against the gloom. ~T will lock the door after you," she said. She had reached the foot of the stairs from which but one shallow step led to the-floor of the haU. Shs placed the candle upon a table. It flickered in tne draught, and a grotesque shadow of tix e doctor upon the wall behind him, "The da-wn always makes mc ncrTons," she said, with a little low laugh, as tiey crossed tne landing. "It is such i creepy time of n%ht. or day—wfeieh is ft?— and.-! have been so frigfctened about Harry.* At the step she stumfcted^—did she forget it, OT did her foot slip' He threw J"rt Ms hand to save her. She missed it md swayed against him. He nung hia sues around her. ' j Oat side upon the steps he -waited to ] Bear the grstrag of the key in the lock. | It would mean that she had risen from tie low chair into which she had fallen Then he had released her. He was shaking from head to foot. Tnedawn dntched him with icy fingers. fervßd, the frozen lake held the grow»g kyiight like dull glass. A low paU « fog oppressed the hffls. ! He stood shivermg. waiting desperate- | 7 'or the sound of tbe tumfng key.; «• <aute at last, a slow, metallic elkk-! turned and went nncertainry down j wiestepe. Qβ ran was going down in a passionste »est. The windows of the stateV ttotEaes alocj the river blazed with "HaUo, doctor!"'cried a child's voice * the tall form of Pwjl Trent turned 1 ***t> the gate. \ "Wnere are yoa going? WeTl Treat you! »-* race up the road." •all r%b.t, Jimmie: I'm your ttt3.ti toFm busy bow, though." called £»c doctor, and waved tua hand to the My. day bag he had worked wiih his energy, meeting eacn hoar's f demands with alert response.! « aia surgery he had accomplished a **a amount of work. He had performVffcT thaa One - operation •ia the steady nerve and clean preci-l that made the work a marvel. In! r? 3 *. direct sentences he had delivered : «s weefciy. lecture before the students' 81 the medical school. I AH day Paai Trent had foTeed himsptf aL t0 bejrond the P^ mo " (Jnly oaee hlb thoTJailta jjjui ahead— wfaen her brief "summons ***** han-tbe half dozen words g*a had bade him come to her at this to s* tt hai Sent ' P* 1^11637 noon see itarry, and now, as he ascended j* rteps and rang beUi the iB/beml hi* T^ 0 - 1 snnset stretched in JW the Hbrary. A fire of logs held the snadowa. Jγ a* room. He advanced a iTf **v<l to meet her. In the giowft. T* U faMd each iadL OUrS the dread of ttia meeting 1) * B oeea resolutely thrust back in hia ne had insttactiveiy nerved himJtoJL"! an Qrdeai J and now that the had come ac was consdous J , °i a pnzsded einbairasameiit. This ■ m ««i 7 not the TrcKoffl. be had es- -: •: i •

- pected to sm3mg Margsret, confronting him in the firelight, -with the gracious aspect of erery daj. He noticed her goira. It was white and. thick and soft, with a bordering of rich dark fur at hem and vrrist. He had told her once that it suited her. He felt vaguely vexed with her for wearing it now. Kad he dreamed it then?—that 1 mad moment in the dawn, -when her touch against him had dashed dcrvro the barriers of his self-control. Bat, no— the thrill of that brief second was vrith him stiiL The wild joy of that instant wh<2i her lips lay warm on .his was : branded on his brain forever. "Yiu did not come at noon as yon promised, Paul," she said, with no hint of displeasure in her eharmhig voice, "so ' I sent for you. Shall I ring for lamps, j or dc you like the firelight ? I do. 1 like \ to fancy myself as making sunshine in a ! *hady place: there's a bait for you,' Paxil, but yon don't rise. Wnsre ara your manners, man? Pay mc a compli-'. menl at once, if you piease. Doctors should be adepts at flattery. 0. Pj.ul, [ feel so gay to-night. Harry is almost. ail right again; the nurse says he may, get up to-morrow." "Margaret. ■' he cried half roughly, i why do you go on like this? I ■would not j have come—l did not want to come— j I meant write to you to-night, hut youT note " He stopped abruptly ; j and covered his face with his hands. " She did not speak, and he went brokenly on. "I love you. Margaret. I have 1 loved you always, since we were chil- | dren. It's all the eicruse I have. I have j woxksd like a horse sinee—sin«e I missed j yon. Yoor friendship was the best thing jin my life. I thonsrht—it—was—enough, i Such a life as mine does not nourish ' 3entinifflit- and I never had imagination. I I don't ask yon to forgrva mc, Margaret " I The room was still. Only the fire rnstlfd and eha.tter«=-d snd wo-iind lithe fin. grers abont th*> logs. she spoke, as rf goaded by acme pressing purpose. Paul—no. don't look at mc. I can't "• tell you if you look at mc. You never; snisperted, did you, Paul, that I was a] vricked woman and a tlirt ? 0, really, j downright had, Paul: but I am, and. I afti=r ti>night. you will not lpve mc any j more; for I am sroingf to cure you, do you bear ? Fm the physician to-night, j and yon art? srovng to be a credit to my | skill. It »aj ail my fault last eight; I ie was a deliberate effect—a pose. Fcrj 1 a long time I have suspected that you | cared for mc and I was amused—excit- I 'ed by the idea, it flattered my vanity, j J You n< a ver thought I wa-s vain,"did you? . But you were always so reserved, so! self-contained, so different from other j I men. that I often felt tempted to lead j you OQ —to make you show mc that \ you cared. And last night, even j through my anxiety about Harry, I fslt the possibilities of the situation, and I —[ made the most of them. When you said the danger was over and t£e tears came to my eyes, 1 only pretended to -.ripe them away; I meant you to se? them. I have been told they were becoming-— n ! " Margaret." he interraptfd, throw | J imr out his hands with a gesture of I protest. " you shall not say stwh things." She on determinedly. ■" T needn't iiave gone downstairs at ail last night. Kate could have locked the door—and you didn't need a candle —I could have lighted the gas, but I knew the candle would be becoming, too. And when I raised my hand to shade the light I pushed back my sleeve on purpose—on purpose, PauL And I foDcrwed you derwn the stairs slowly, so that you would turn at the foot and see me—coming with the light. And, 0, Paul, yon thought my foot slipped at the step. It didn J t—it did- ! n't. I tripped on purpose. I planned it all as I came down behind you. I meant you to catch mc. I intended you to kiss—'' A smothered sound broke from the man's lips. He strode past her towards the door. She ran to him and caught his arm. "Wait, Paul, wait; there is one thing more,'* hear voice fell lower. '" 1 have often— langhed —with Ned —over voxrr —aboard infatuation/ Ha turned upon her a face gray with the torture of insulted pride, and, brasaing her hand from his arm, went oux of the room without a word. Outside in the street the Isjsr, of the daylight lingered. People had gone bonw? to dine. Overhead the sky looked cold, remote. Low down near the horizon bsxnied a star. As the front door closed behind Mm a boy in the uniform of a telegraph messenger ran whistling up the steps. The envelope was thin and foreign and bore an Italian postmark. Paul Trent started as he lifted it from the pile of letters upon his desk. He knew the handwriting—hers, though she had tried in Rome a month before. The news of her death had dealt him a pang more of reviving anger than of grief. The ii«*ep wound had Wed but for a . moment; quickly it had been, cauterised anew. And now had eoine hex letter —for, dead or living, the letter was. from her. Hβ glanced hnniediy over the mass of correspondence and laid it aside to wait for the arrival of his secretary. The foreign letter he carried into bis private consulting room and shut the door. He sat do-wn in his revolving cbn.ir aed tore open the envelope. His hand shook a.= 'ao removed the ciosely written sheets. The letter ran : " Dear Paul: Three yeajrs ago I lied to yon. and now that I ant £11, and. I think, going to die, I canst write you the truth at last. I don't in the least i mind dying except for leaving Harry; i' he will go home with Ned's sister, who is with us here, and live -wrrth. her in Scotland. This letter ■will be sest to ■ you afterwards. " "I must curry. 0. Paul, I have borne for three years the knowledge that yoa 1 hated mc living; but I cajrndt bear that you should hate mc dead, for I loyed you, PauL always; but you went away so far, and stayed so long—everyone said you were not coming back, that you meant to live in Berlin. And then | Ned came —and our people all wanted ' it, and I thought you did Eot care, so I ' married him. I don't think I was un- ' happy; Ned was good to mc; and Harry—well, Harry was divine! My ! life ran on calmly, evenly, tmdl you ' came home alter five year 3of absence. : And then I kneTiF—knew tiiac all along j I had been dull, apa'thetM, asleep. Wel£ '

A MIS-STEP. CBy -JESSIE BETTS HAKTSWICK).

BY

I did not put on a rueful countenance OT go about mairing XQOailS- I JUSX went on as before; bat in realitj I lived only fox you. I ysed to wander it you. cared. Sometimes I thought you did, but never until that morning in the dawn, when you turned and looked at mc as I came dawn the stairs, was I sure. I sarw it then in. your eves, and I feared and trembled with the joy of it. No wonder I forgot the step. 0, Paul. I did forget it! I did not stuurbie purposely. I never played a part with, you in my life—never bat onee —the ntit evemug in tile library, when I lied ta ssve us both. I thoaght I had to lie. It seemed the only -way, for after that moment on the landing nothing conid eve/ be the same again. 1 knew we moat not go en meeting, for I was awake at last —awake and afraid. 1 thought I most make yon. bate ma —despise mc so thoTOT%hiy that you would never wiilingly eojne near mc afterwards. "You see, I knew you 50 well, PanL I remensber that when we were ehiidraa it used to anger you to be duped — tricked in any way, even in play- You ■were aJhvays so proudly honest. Alter we jrrew up insincerity was always the fault yon hated moet. "I did not think at the time tb*t I was doing a brave thing, but as I look back upon it I think it wtis brsve, ill a sense—a sort of heroic cowardice like suicide—for I deliberately killed yonr ideal of mc. because I was afraid to let it live. Bat, 0 Paul! when yon turned at the door, and I saw the contempt in your face, I was sorry; bat even then I made myself say the dreadful thing that hurt you most, a-bout laughing at yotzr love. 0. I wonder that I ecn?d do it, bat I was sorry. I called to yon to come back, but you were srone. and then the bell rang. It was the messensrer with the telegram that toid mc of the accident to Sea. In an hour there ame another massage that he w:is dead. "I need not writo of the dr-eadfnl Tracks that came after. By and J by Ned's sister mc to take Harry md <ro abroad for a year ox two, and I consented. '"And now, Paul, it is all said— everything, and I do not know whether or not I have made you understand, b-jt [ am just a lonely woman, sick in a foreign land, *nd I do know that when yon read tins you. will not hate mc any mors. '""I hear the nurse coming up the ; 3tarr? with Harry, and the roora is swinging C-ood-bye, Paa!." Outside ihf. telephone ra.3g sharply, but Paul Treat paid no heet!. He sat staring with miserable eyes at the last faintly -writtea words of the letter. Some one knocked. He lifted 3 haggard face, is it, James?" he forced himself to ask. "The carriage has been waiting some time, sir, and yon are wanted at Mrs Hartley's iunnediatiply. The rock has sprained her ankle." Paul turned and took up life again as if nirtlirng had happened.