CHAPTER XXXVI. THE DIE IS CAST.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 363, 27 April 1889, Page 5

CHAPTER XXXVI. THE DIE IS CAST.

Mrs Sheppbbton's cuuning reasoning had proved correct ; and bhe web was daily drawing closer and closer round the unsuspecting victim. ... It was the dead of night. But there was no rest for Dulcie. She lay in her little narrow bed, with wideopen, dilated eyes that strained uneasily at the darkness, and waited impatiently for the first faint streaks of dawn to appear above the horizon. Suddenly she heard a noise which made her heart beat furiously — a noise of stealthy, sliding footsteps creaking softly on the smooth boards of the corridor outside. Raising herself apprehensively on one elbow, the girl now listened with an intent and overpowering fear. She was in that peculiar condition of mind when the supernatural appears feasible and the unreal possible— a condition produced either by physical weakness or extreme mental tension. Meantime the noise increased, growing louder and more distinctly audible. The footsteps stopped, moved on a space or two, then stopped again before her door. , She tried to scream, but her parched throat refused to give utterance to any

• sound ; ib was as if a strong hand clutched • it in a vice-like grasp. Half paralysed . with terror, she sat bolt upright, and breathlessly prepared to confront this unexpected visitor. Slowly the handle of the door^ turned, and a white figure glided cautiously into the room. Dulcie's fears vanished instantaneously. ' Oh, mamma !' she cried with a quick sigh of reliof, ' how you frightened "me ! I declare I thought you were a ghost !' Mrs Shepperton was clad in a long loose wrapper, that hung in straight lines from the neck downwards, and her fair grizzled hair was tightly screwed up in curl papers under a stiffly starched nightcap. 'Is anything fresh the matter ?' askod ' Dulcie, after they had stood gazing at each other for a few seconds in silence. I 1 Has pome new misfortune happened ?' • No,' replied Mrs Shepperton, fepeaking in a low, sepulchral voice ; ' but I could not sloep, and I felt as if I must come and see how you were getting on. All these terrible affairs have been weighing so heavily upon my mind that rest was out of the question. Bub you, child,' with a sudden assumption of maternal solicitude, ' how is it that you are awake at this late, or rather early, hour V ' I don't know, mamma. I could not got to sleep either, and for bhe last three nights have lain awake thinking over our troubles, and trying to see a way out cf them.' • That is not very difficult, surely ?' shooting a rapid glance at the girl. 'I find it &o, ! she answered with a sigh. ' You have not, then, changed your mind V ' Oh, mamma ! I cannot change my mind, or promise to marry one man, when all my love is given to another.' Mrs Shepperbon's brow grew dark and contracted in an ugly frown. ' Have you fully considered the circumstances V she asked, raising her voice a little. ' Yes.' with the tears starting to her eyes, ' but it's no good.' 'No good ? What's no good ?' 1 Tryingnot to think of Bob, and thinking of Mr Denver instead.' 'Ah ! we are both of us worried at present,' and Mrs Shepperton drooped her eyes sadly. 'Do you 'know, child, what has brought me to your bedside at this hour of the night?' 1 No, mamma.' ' Then I will tell you. I came because,' speaking in tones of mild melancholy, 'my conscience reproached me for certain thingb said to you the other day. I fek we had nob been quite good friends latterly, and that if,' gazing solemnly at the little white figure before her, crowned by a halo of soft, dark- brown curls, ' I were to die, I should like to make friends first, and have nothing to reproach myself with.' Dulcie listened to the above spesch in amazement. % Are you ill, mamma ?' she asked, turning suddenly pale. '" If I die," sounds so horrible. ' * Dulcie, can I trust you with a secret ? —one which I have tried to conceal from everj'body ?' The girl began to tremble. There was something awe-inspiring about the gravity of this address. ' Yes,' she said, in a low voice. ' Well, then,' continued Mrs Shepperton, boldly throwing down bhe last trump she had held until now in leserve, ' I have- — every— reason— to believe— that— my days are numbered. No, don't look so frightened, silly child ; death has no terrors for me, since I have lost everything that makes life pleasant.' ' Oh, mamma ! perhaps you aie mistaken.' Mrs Shepperton smiled with a gentle but reproving air of superiority. 'No, child, I have long suffered from a painful internal malady, which my medical adviser distinctly declares only the greatest care and best living can possibly cure. A week ago I still entertained hopes of recovery, but now,' gazing at Dulcie — 'now, when poverty, possibly starvation, stares me in the face — what chance have 1 of obeying the doctor's prescriptions, or of following his advice ? A speedy and painless death is the utmost I desire. ' A long silence succeeded this speech, during which mother and daughter remained looking into each other's eyes. Dulcie's grew big with horror. ' And >ou have kept this from us all these months ?' she asked tremulously. ' Yes. Perhaps doiv you will fox'give me for having been so short - tempered at times." ' Why, mamma, dear, you are a perfect heroine !' exclaimed Dulcie, impetuously, moved to a sudden admiration of such fortitude. ' I had no idea you were so brave. It's downright grand living as you have been doing.' At that moment she felt that she had wronged her mother in her thoughts, and never done her justice. A swift compunction seized the girl. ' Mamma,' she said tenderly, ' you make me feel ashamed of myeelf, you are so much bebber and braver bhan I. I have crossed your wishes ofben, and left many things undone that I might have done. Can you forgive me?' looking up vvibh swimming eyes. Mrs Shepperton winced perceptibly at this artless query. Insensibly her eyelids drooped before the ardent and repentant gaze they encountered. 'I have nobbing to forgive,' she said coldly. ' I wished, if possible, to spare you pain, bui now that you have sealed my doom it became absolutely necessary to speak out.' 'Don'b balk of your " doom," mamma,' shuddering violently. 5 1 must, child. And now, having said what I wanbed, I had bebber go, since I am only keeping you awake and making you excite yourself. Good-nighb, Dulcie ; God bless you, child, and when I lie under the cold, green sods, may you and Bob Morningbon be happy.' She had played her last card skilfully, and was now determined on taking up the trick. At mention of Bob's name all Dulcie's sufferings revived with fresh poignancy. How, after the conversation that had just taken place, was it possible for her to marry him? If she did, she should feel like her own murderer. She must give him up, relinquish her own private thoughts of love and happiness, and even, if needs be, marry Mr Denver ! Honour, duty, filial affection, all combined to render this sacrifice compulsory. At last the film that had so long obscured her brain was removed, and she could see with a clearness almost painful in its vividness. She dared no longer think of herself, still less of Bob. Henceforth her poor suffering mother, and the prolonging of that mother's uncertain life, must be her chief and only consideration, no matter what the price. The whole bhing was now quibe simple, and resolved itself into this — She mnsb give up her love. A sbifling &ob rose in her throat, rendering speech inarticulate, for in this moment of bitter agony, of spiritual exaltation, and of high striving after good, she realised in full all that she voluntarily proposed renouncing. * Don't talk—of —d— dying,' she faltered. •You say — I — I — can prevent it, and,' with a piteous quiver of the full mouth,

I and long indrawn sigh, ' I will— so— help IJ— me— God.' i ♦ You, Dulcie ?' *V—Y — y — yes, I — I — ohl mamma, I promise 5 to give Bob up. ' I A gleam of genuine delight illumined Mrs 3 Shepperton's countenance. She had toiled very patiently, but her reward had come at : length. ! ' Whao !' sho cried, in a shrill tone of triumph. « And to marry Mr Donvor ; ' instead V » Dulcie could nob utter a sound. She • could not bring herself to speak the fatal . word that shut her out from every chance of future happiness. Silently sho bowed her head, and sat up in the bed, rocking her \ body to and fro in dry-eyed misery. ' Oh, my darling !' cried Mrs Shepperlon, s joyously, ' my dear little darling Dulcie, the great God who watches over us will bless you for this noble action. Ah !' with a low, gurgling laugh of pleasure, ' there is no need for me bo talk of dying any longer. We can dismiss all such melancholy ideas, for I shall soon get well with joy for my physician,' atid she threw her arms round the girl's neck, showering kiss after ki&s on her white suffering iace. Somehow, these exaggerated expressions of satisfaction jarred upon Dulcie's susceptibilities. The sacrifice had been made at a cost the other was wholly incapable of appreciating ; but the girl felt that in making it, she had shed tears wrung from her heart's blood, and could not rejoico over the shedding. The victor in some mortal combat who lies gasping out his last breath on a blood-stained arena might just as well be offered congratulations as she. The strife has been too terrible nob to render any applause a mockery. ' Leave me,' she said. c I have only done ray duty ; but, oh ! how I wish that 1 had never been born.' 'My darling,' said Mrs Shepperton, * won't you try and go to sleep now, just to please me ?' 4 No, mamma, you may rest, but / shall not. Good-night! Don't think me unkind, only I long to be alone.' Mrs Shepperton turned away uneasily. The victory was gained, and the enemy completely routed ; nevertheless, at that moment, it appeared but a very inglorious sort of an affair. She shrank from the sight of Dulcie's innocent and sorrowful face, knowing how cruelly she was deceiving her. For one instant, as she stood there hesitating, she almost doubted the wisdom of a her conduct, and nearly repented having taken the direction of affairs into her own hands. She was not altogether a badhearted woman, only worldly and pushing, allowing the greed of money and the worship of social advantages to ride high horse over every simple and natural feeling. She moved slowly towards the door and left the room, feeling indescribably relieved at effecting her escape. The round yellow moon filled the heavens with a soft refulgent light, seeming to look down in silent protest on the dark earth where human passions raged. A silvery sheen illumined the big cedar tree, turning its spiky needles into delicately fashioned filigree work. It cast a gentle radiance on the stable tower, on the slanting-roofod dove-cot, and on the little homely chamber wherein Dulcie Shepperton lay prostrate on the bed, quivering in dire mental agony, like one whose ilesh has just been subjected to the skilful surgeon's knife. Ever and anon, as she tossed from side '' to side, a groan escaped her lips. ' What will Bob say ? What will Bob j say? But, oh ! how could I help it?' That was the burden of her refrain. | The deed was done that wrecked her life < for evermore. j Her fate was sealed, and passively she \ recognised the fact : < ' There's a divinity that shades our ends Rough hew them how we will.'