CHAPTER XIV.

Te Aroha News, Volume II, Issue 91, 28 February 1885, Page 4

CHAPTER XIV.

"good-bye !" " Shall I Tjprish with the whole Of the coining yt a a in viow UnHl'omptt'd ? To 'he soul Every hour brinvs something now. Still suns ri^e ; si ill ancs roll. Still some de^ri is Mt to do Some— bir what ? Small matter now ! For one 1 ly for her hair. For ono rose to vvivath her brow, For one gem to Suaikle there, Ihal— words, old words I know— What was 1 ihar she should cai*e?" LYTTON". He was coming up the steps. ' v When did you return ? Or is it possible you did not go to New York after all? Why, of course, you have not had time to " She broke off abruptly. " What is the matter?" He had just lifted his face. It startled her. It was white as death. The very lips under the heavy moustache were ashen. [Jia blue eyes had a curiously dry, bright, diluted look about them. JHe pushed past her into the drawingroom. Full of alarm and amazement, she followed him, He turne-1, and, still without a word, held forth the paper to her, pointing to one paragraph. His hand did not tremble, but as she took the sheet from him she noticed that the fingers she touched were icy cold. Her glance fell to the spot indicated. She read the lines. The paper fell to the floor. She stood a moment as if dazed, then broke out in vehement assertions, contradictions. "It is a joke— a horrid practical joke— don't you see ? It is a shame— it — " His lifted hand stemmed the verbal torrent, "It is no joke. It is true. It is not an hour since they passed me in the corridor of the Palmer " 11 Marc 1" For the life of her she could utter no other word. He Biniled. She would rather he had wept '•Do you remember the refrain of that cynical little song you used to aing? * IS amour fait beaucoup, mats V argent fait tout.' That is the explanation. 'Love does much, but money does everything.' Love !" he repeated. "Marc !" reiterated his sister, feebly. A flash leaped into his eyes. " We were to have been married," he said, speaking in a low voice, but every word at white heat, * quivering intense with pain and passion. "She said she loved me. We," with a harsh laugh, "are easily duped, we men. We make the gross error ,of believing a woman. She vowed she would love me always That waB the very night before I left, Do you know how long to her was • always ?' Three days /"

Was that the man who had leaped gayly from the train and walked with such a brisk tread down East Madison -street but a few hours before— who had sung Burns's merry ballad through sheer glad-heartedness as he swung along, and deemed Chicago a paradise because it harboured an angel— this pale-cheeked, lightning-eyed young fellow, protesting against love, and truth, and trust betrayed ? " I can't think it is so. I was just going to see Voyle. We heard never a word. We " She stopped. A lump in her throat choked her ; her tears blinded her. She loved her brother dearly. She was so happy a few days ago when he had told her his secret. The sight of his misery now was like death to her. With an effort he controlled himself. He came a slep nearer, pu his arm round her, bent his head and kidsed her. "Good bye, Lucie. lam going away." " Away !"— blankly. " Where ?" "Where? I don't know; and, by Heaven," flaming out recklessly, "I don't care !" [ She broke down in a fit of sobbing. I "Oh, Marc! Marc!" " Don't worry, dear. You are the only one that knows, or that will know. J sha'n't go round ranting about my sorrow. Ie w a. bad policy to scatter your secrets for public foo balls. Good-bye !" But she clung to him. He had striven to t speak airily to soothe her, but she saw straight through the effort. " Don't go yet. Think it over. Perhaps — perhaps— Ah, don't let your faith in life die because of a woman's falsity—because, forsooth, a girl turns down her dainty thumb, as did Poppasa of old. Be braver than that, Marc. There are other women " He tore himself from her clinging arms. " Hush ! Not that ! There never was a woman in tho world for me till I locked on hei swoet face. There is not now. Were she a thousand times a wife, till death there never can bo !" Then he was gone, and Lucie Sylrio slipped to the floor, pallid and inert.

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