CHAPTER XXXII.

Te Aroha News, Volume II, Issue 95, 28 March 1885, Page 4

CHAPTER XXXII.

"i CAN WAIT." "When a strong woman reoklessly throws away her strength, she is worse than a weak woman who never had any strength to throw away, . . . Weakness is doubly weakness by being new. 1 Thomas Habdy. Tuesday. Such a crisp, bright, sparkling day as it was ! The clear, cold sky was blue as a turquoise. In the night there had been frost, a pure, white frost, which had whitened the sidewalks, and traced delicate lace work on the window-panes, and jewelled every tree on the boulevards. On State-street light attire was discarded. Frequently during September' had it been cast off, only to be resurrected from trunks and closets and again donned. But such a day as this protested against its revival. Everywhere were gowns of woollen and velvet, deep fur capes, bright-breasted little bonnets And plumage toques. Mrs Charu spent the morning ivith her maid in reviewing last winter's wardrobe. When Grknes called to-day she would be ready to go out, she told herself, ready dressed. Then he could not detain her long. That would be best for both of them. She knew just what he had to say — eyes and voice had told her that many a time. But she must not let him say it. No. A scene might be the outcome. This each would be the more comfortable for having avoided. She would see him as she had promised, but just for a few minutes. By her manner she would make him understand how more than useless would be persistence. But— how different was he from old Vernell ! what a different air— spirit » No, no \ she must not think of that — of him —in that light, any more. Never again, She sat on a fauteuil in the midst of her disembowelled trunks, her hands clasped behind her head, her eyes looking into vacancy, her thoughts intent upon everything save that which her hands had begun. Three times her maid spoke to her before she heard— answered. " What dress ? Oh, that wine velvet one will do. And the bonnet to match. And my silver-fox cape— yes." " Grey or garnet gloves, madam?" " Grey— eight-button. There, that will do. lam going to dress now. You may put these away at your leisure. Open the window. This smell of camphor is overpowering." She was dressed before Dennis Grimes — before the hour specified fo -x bis call. She stood in the big bay-window, and saw him as he came up the street. He was young. In that what an immense advantage had he over Vernell. What were those words of the Passionate Pilgrim ? " Youth, youth, I do adore thee : Oh, my love, my love is young r The bell rang. She could hear the footman admitting him, could hear him ascending the stairs. The door opened. He entered. She turned and advanced to meet him. As she did so he told himself with the infatuation of a lover that if there lived in Chicago a handsomer woman he had yet to behold her. To the unbiassed and impartial, such a statement is rank hyperbole. She did not look well just now. There was no denying that. The dress of ruby velvet fitted the tall, full figure perfectly. The "tipped" bonnet to match made a rich frame for the dark face. On a chair lay her silvery cape. She was drawing on one grey glove. But deapite his acknowledgment of her beauty, Dennis Grimes knit his brows in a dark frown as he saw her dressed for walking. "You are going out ?" " Not noio, of course," with a smile. " I am obliged to attend to a pressing duty this afternoon, but I have always time for the kind vjsit of a friend." She took a chair as she spoke, and indicated one for him. He flung his hat and cane on the sofa, and sat down. "Fora friend?" he repeated slowly, as he unbuttoned a glove. Ah ! he would not take the hint. He would not be warned. "Yes," steadily. "We are friends, are we not?" Something was wroug. He told himself that he had felt it in his bones the moment he saw that she was dressed for walking. She had intended to avoid an interview with him. Was it not possible that in that bit of strategy the previous Saturday night at the Exposition building he had overreached himself ? He did not answer her calm query. She grew a little nervous as she waited and watched him. In what a savage manner he was pulling off his gloves ! Was he going to make a scene, after all? She must break the silence. Even a clever woman will blunder sometimes. She did so now. Her words goaded him — opened a way for him. " How very ungallant ef you !n! n pouting and laughing, "You should joyfully assent. Will you not accept the title ?" He sprang up, and flung down his glove like a challenge. " No /" his blonde face flaming iuriously. " I swear I won't 1" We're not friends— we never can be friends ! You know that, Letitia. We are lovers. Friends !" scornfully. "Keep your milk-and-water friendships for your milk-and-water people. Not for me. I'll have none of them I" He seemed to tower upward in his fierce indignation. For the moment, steel-nerved woman though she was, she quailed before him. She, too, had risen, and stood facing him. Would she tell him— now ? Sooner or later she must. And yet it waß hard. She had j won her engagement by a trick. Were the wealth and position for which she had schemed worth the cost ? She was a clever woman, subtle, worldworn, experienced, but, as she looked at the man before her, she loved. For the first time, too. The consciousness of it thrilled her. Ah, sneer not, sweet sixteen 1 All the

passion the world holds burns not in your young bosom, " lam not— free I" The words were a mere whisper. Truly is love a transformer. Just then she would have given a year of her life to say it in her old loud way, with her old ringing laugh, even to lift her bold eyes to his face. "Not free ?" he echoed, hoarseley. " You i must be free—you must t Burst your fetters. Come to me ! I love you, Letitia, and you love me. I dare you to deny it 1" He came a step nearer, his eyes fairly lurid. So absorbed were both, neither noticed I that the door of the adjoining room was ! ajar. Neither dreamed that just without it was bent a listening head, an eager, brownskinned face, and senses strained to miss no word. " I dare you to deny it !" In the silence which followed the words rang and re-rang in her ears. No, she did not deny it. She could not, She shrank back a little. Those pale, blazing eyes seemed to read her very soul. She was that most pitiful of all things— a atrong spirit shorn < f strength. "I am to marry— Colonel Vernell !" she faltered. " Vernell ! I thought it was he. Letitia, listen to me I" He grasped in his both her hands, and held them so with a gripjof iron. '♦Think of him- look at me ! lam young I enough, passionate enough f;o profess love ] without blasphemy. He is old, grizzlebearded, methodical, suspicious — what woman could find him loveaßle ?" The door- bell rang. Mrs Charu, who stood nearest the ■window, glanced out. Just as she feared. There was the glittering Vernell harness, the shining Vernell carriage, the sleek Vernell horses, the smart Vernell coachman. " Let me go ! It is the colonel ! He will be up in a moment !" vainly endeavouring to wrench free her imprisoned hands, into which the jewelled rings were cutting cruelly. ♦« Release me, I say -Dennis !" They could hear the visitor ascending the polished wooden staircase. "Quick— Dennis!" . "On one condition. Tell me whether or { not you love me." She looked up at him crimson-cheeked, panting. But her eyes spoke truth. " I love you !" she said. " Ihen I can wait I" But she did not dream of the hideous impert of the words. How could she read in his brain the black scheme which had there sprung up full statured in that second ? He bent and kissed her— once, twice— and released her hands. He was taking up his hat, cane, and glove from the sofa, when the door opened and Colonel Vernell entered. (To be Continued.)