CHAPTER LIV. TOGETHER, BUT DIVIDED.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 371, 25 May 1889, Page 6

CHAPTER LIV. TOGETHER, BUT DIVIDED.

And then their hands met together in one long cla&p, whilst for almost a minute they stood perfectly speechless, era/ing mutely into each other's eyes with a hungry, searching 'gaze that told only too &urely of internal love and misery. Dulcie was quivering like an aspen-leaf from head to foot. All the sufferings of months seemed to have reached their climax in this one supreme moment ; all the wretchedness of the present and the hopelessness of the future were condensed as she stood there looking at Bob. With a faint attempt at laughter, she suddenly burst into tears. This unexpected encounter, coming as it did upon the agitation of her flight, set self-control at defiance. It was silly to cry, and foolish— very foolish —but she could not help it. And as he noted every detail of her phin, unpretending dress, as he saw how pale and thin she had grown, how cruelly altered since their last meeting, compassion filled his heart. 4 Dulcie,' he said, quickly, 'what's the matter? What has brought you to this state V 1 Oh, Bob •' she sobbed, grasping his arm with a getture of child-like confidence that thrilled him both with pain and pleasure— pain at seeing her in such a plight, pleasure that she should still instinctively turn to the friend of her youth — 'Oh, Bob! don't think me a terrible goose, but I've been so frightened ! I thought a detective was after me ; and,' weeping piteously, ' I can't find work, and 1 don'fc know what to do with myself.' He leapt at once to the conclusion that something was seriously amiss. This troubled greetin? was not what he expected. Sometimes he had thought she would meet him shyly, coldly, quietly ; sometimes with the sweet impetuous words of yore, the glad pressure of the hand and brightening of the dark, expressive eye ; but never in all his speculations had he once imagined he should meet her liko this, alone, unattended, and forlorn. The very thought made every pulse quicken with indignation. • Work !' he exclaimed, while a bewildered look crept over his face. ' Why on earth should you, of all people in the world — you who married a man possessing fabulous wealth — want work V 'It seems funny, Bob, doesn't it? But I do, I want it sadly — so sadly that unless something turns up shortly I shall be reduced to absolute starvation.' ' Starvation, Dulcie ? What in the name of goodness do you mean V 4 1 mean this, Bob. My husbattd has insulted me, and struck me in such a manner that I was forced to leave him. I do not

defend my conduct. I know that in the eyes of the world it is not deemed right to act as I have acted ; but a blow, Bob— a cruel distardly blow— turns you into an inward volcano. It makes you feel like a demon capable of committing any crime, even murder. Had I, been a man I should have knocked him down, or at all events done my best to do so ; but being only a weak, defenceless woman, I ran away instead.' • Oh, my God, Dulcie ! is this true ? Did the brute actually strike you ?' • Yes. Do you imagine I should invent such a story for my own amusement ? But that was nob all. He made love to Ethel before my very eyes, and said he wished he had never married me. 5 ' Damn him !' • And, oh ! Bob,' she continued, with a fresh burst of tears, * I don't know what you will say to me for having taken such small care of him, bub my poor dear little Nipper is dead.' ' Dead ! how did thai happen ?' 'He killed him, Bob — he kickod him on the head — and Nipper's neck was — bro — broken. The dog died immediately ; but, oh ! I can't tell you how badly I folb about it.' 'Did Mr Denver do it on purposo?' asked Bob, through his clenched teeth. ' I don't know. He said not, only he always hated Nipper — be— because ho was your dog, and because I—lI — I was so fond of him.' ' The fiend !' • Perhaps it was wrong of me,' she conbinued, arbles«ly, 'but you seel could nob help loving Nipper, for 1 had nothing else to love, and after his death I fell ill — so ill bhab they thought I would have died, And then the baby was born. He was born dead ; but I did not grieve a bit. 1 only wished I could die too. I should not have minded being buried in the same grave as the little baby, and might perhaps have liked him when we were under the cold earth together.' His breath came fast and slow. She could almost hear the strong angry beatings of his heart. His whole frame thrilled with indignation when he thought of Dulcie — his dear little tender-bodied Dulcie— being subjected to such treatment. Why ! the man must be a demon, a living devil, who could strike so sweet and delicate a creature ! He longed to wind his strong fingeis round Dennis Denver's throat and throttle the craven life out ot it. Men like him weie not fib bo live. They were blots on the whole social system. But the passers-by were beginning to stare at the unusual sight of so young and pretty a woman weeping bitterly in full daylight. They must move on, if only to escape observabion. Bob hailed a passing hansom, and a minute later they were both safely seated inside. This sudden meeting had completely upset Dulcie's over-strung nerves ; nevertheless, as they drove on in a silence too absorbed for speech, both felt on either side that since their last parting an insuperable barrier had been raised between them. Bait, in spite of this, it was sweet — strangely sweet — to be together again, and feel that their love was as strong and as true as on the day when they had wished each other good-bye. Exquisite pain there might be in bhe knowledge, bub also comfort. Once, as they were nearing the end of their journey, he sighed heavily, and took her small gloved hand in his. She let it lie there quite passively. Her conscience reproached her for doing so, bub they had not met for such a long, long time that she could not bring herself todraw it away. For he too had changed, and there were lines about his sunny face which gave it an appearance of increased manhood. When they came to Great Percival Sbreeb they got out, and Dulcie opened bhe door with her latch-key. Beckoning bo Bob to follow, she ascended the stairs and entered the drawing-room. Then the spell of silence that had fallen upon them vanished, and complete solitude rendered speech comparatively easy. 1 Bob,' she said, i I thought you were far away in America What has brought you back?' ' Uncle Beckwith met with a fatal accident,' he replied. ' Whilst out cattle-driv-ing his horse stumbled over a fallen tree and threw him so violently to the ground bhab his skull was fractured. He died bhe same evening.' •Do your people know of this ? Have you seen them ?' ' No, not yet. I on}y arrived last night. 1 am a rich man now, Dulcie,' looking at her significantly, ' and have an income of over five thousand a year.' She turned her head away so that" he could not see the glistening drops trembling in her eyes. The thought of his independence conjured up such swift regrets, such vivid visions of what might have been. Ah ! how sad are those words ! None sadder in the whole language of man ; for is there any period from our youth upwards, from our childhood until the timo when with trembling hands and nodding heads we sit crooning before the fire, endeavouxing to seek a warmth which the vital forces have long since ceased to supply, that we do not say or think to ourselves, ' It might have been '■" For a few seconds neither of them spoke. Their thoughts were busy, though their tongues weie silent. Then Bob said, gloomily : • Dulcie, this money has come too late to do us any good. For months past I have been thinking of you. I hoped bhab at leasb you were tolerably happy, and now. when I come homo, ib is dreadful bo find you in bhis pibiable condibion. Oh, Dulcie ! I would give my life's blood to help you oub of your difficulby.' He could nob altogether stifle a guilty feeling, that, having left her husband, there might still be a chance for him. 'I know, dear Bob,' she answered, gratefully. ' But nobody can help me, nobody but death, and sometimes I think it is not very far off. I'm not at all afraid, so don'b look shocked. People cry, and say how dreadful it ia to die young ; but I don't agree with them. Only the other day I saw a little child's coffin going by in the streets, whilst the mother walked behind, sobbing as if her heart would break. And I felb so much inclined to go up to her and <?ay, ' Don't grieve, your child is far better off under the earbh. Think of all bhe misery, the pain and suffering, it has escaped. Now, its poor litter body lies in a state of non-existence, and feole no evil.' ' • Hush, Dulcie ! You'll make me turn woman if you talk in this cold, despairing fashion.' ' But,' she persisted, ' what is the good of living M'hen people are so bad ?' And then she told him about her mother's conduct, and everything that had taken place since his dopaiture from England. Fairly and plainly, without exaggeaation, she related bhe whole ugly bale' from beginning co end. And as he listened bhe veins in his temples stood oub like knotted whipchord, whilst strong nails buried themselves in the palms of his hands. • So, then,' he cried, impebuously, 'ib was all a lie from first to last, and got up on purpose to keep us apart ?' • Vee, Bob ; though Heaven only knows what good has* come of their schemings.' ' They have spoilt our lives, Dulcie, just as effectually as if they had sent us to a Siberian prison to rob in some foul dungeon.'

She shared his bitterness of spirit, if not his fierce resentment, to the full ; and yet she, who of the two hud certainly endured most, felt more resigned than he. 'Bob,' she said, speaking very gently, • it's no use thinking of the past. AH that is left to us now is to strive to live purely and honourably in the future.' * Purely and honourably !' he repeated, sarcastically. * What significance have such words when we have been cruelly betrayed? Dulcie,' he went on, vehemently, ' it has been said that love is only a portion, and a small portion, of man's life ; that it is but a mere distraction, ranking with at least a dozen other amusements. It may bo po with some men— but it is not so with me. For months past I have tried to oust you from my memory, to forget you in every conceivable way ; and what has been the result? Nothing but an hourly and a growing craving to see your sweet faco once more. Oh, Dulcie !' and his voice gi ew hoarse with deep emotion, ' playmate of my childhood, friend of my boyhood, sweetheart ot my manhood, you arc a part and parcel of myself, and life without you is an impossibility. Whr.t is there bo separato us ? Why, Oh ! why should not happiness come to us at last ? Dulcie, darling,' holding out his arms towards her in a very agony of entreaty, ' only say yes, and God, who sees into our hearts, will hold us blameless. Ho knows what we have suffered, and will judge us more mercifully than mon.' He paused breathless, with his face all quivering with intense feeling, and she paled to her very lips. Such an idea had never presented itself to her innocent mind, but now it appealed to overy faculty with insidious strongth. ' Bob,' she said, in low, tremulous accents, ' have 3/ou gone mad ? You don't surely know what you are saying, what you are asking of me.' ' Yes, I do,' he returned, doggedly. ' Must I remind you that 1 am a married woman V The words goaded him into desperation. * Married !' he cried, fiercely : ' yes, through a cheat, a lie, an infamous plot ! Is marriago thus brought about binding? For, if you deem ie so, I do not, and never will. You are my wife in God's eyes ; mine, and mine only. By the sacred ties of love, honour, and esteem, you and I are knit together. Oh ! Dulcio,' suddenly dropping his tone to one of gentle persuasion, 'my own darling, do not let any foolish qualms of conscience stand in our way. You have lott your husband by your own act. Mr Denver will never forgive the step you have taken, and why, therefore, should you stay to be rendered miserable ? Come with mo, swoethearl, instead. Come to the quiet home we have so often pictured, where, indifferent to the outside world, we can live happily together without the society of other mon and women. Mine shall be the pleasure to surround you with every comfort and luxury ; you shall want for nothing, I will supply the place of friend, lover, husband all in one.' A? he spoke, ho seized her pale face between his hands and rained down passionate kisses upon it. There are moments of great excitement when, unconsciously, every trivial outside detail becomes stereotyped upon the brain. The memory of that little shabby room, with its cheap white-and-gold paper, tawdy mirror, and hideous carpet, would cleave to Dulcie until her dying day. She even found herself counting the spots upon the wallpaper, and mechanically wondering how many inches they were apart. ' Dulcie, speak one word to me, there's a darling.' She shivered. The love-light shone strong and steady in his eyes, and every chord of her being vibrated .with a fierce, answering delight. For one instant the voice of the serpent sounded loudly in her ears, whispering how sweet it was — how easy to yield ! She had no children to brand hereafter with a heritage of shame ; no relations, save Marian, to grieve ; no husband except a man who had already rendered it impossible that she could live under his roof. The temptation was 80 great that during a few brief seconds she hesitated. But then the innate purity and shrinking from the mere thought of sin, which are a good woman's sure&t safeguard, rose up in horror against the pi-oposition, and with a rapid revulsion of feeling she freed herself from hi? detaining arms. ' Bob,' she .said, speaking softly, not angrily — for how could she possibly feel angry with him ?— ' don't tempt me to commit a sin. It is useless seeking to disguise the fact of my unhappiness, but what then ? Is it not infinitely better to suffer misery than to be come wicked ? A life of guilty bliss would not satisfy the highest craving of my nature, neither — although you may think so now — would it. satisfy yours. Only coarse ignorant people can sin with impunity. To the sensitive it means a living torture. You speak of other women,' she continued, gathering strength as she went on. ' Would you like to eeo them shrink from your wife as if bhe were a leper ? Would you like the children that might be born to us to be ashamed of their mother ? No, Bob. lam younger than you, but in the last few months I have seen a great deal of life. I have seen how fashionable matrons talk, flirt, and degrade the sacred name of woman ; how they lower their own sex, until men jeer at it, and affect to despise such things as purity and chastity. You may call my determination pride, Bob, if you liko, but, with God's help, I will neve?' condescend to stoop to so mean a level. If my influence over you cannot be for good, it shall not be for evil. Prove your love in somo nobler, some worthier fashion, but do not ever lower yourself and me again as you have lowered us to-day.' The delicate mouth quivered as she finished speaking, but the beautiful eyes shone with a clear and holy light that glorified the sweet girlish countenance, lending it an almost unearthly radiance. 'You are very selfish,' he rotor ted bitterly, 'and value your own good name more highly than anything else. Such women are incapable of real love. They do not even know its meaning. ' ' Perhaps not. We estimate it as something loftier and purer than the base passion which passes currency in the world. Oh ! Bob,' she added, while blinding tears obscured her vision, * I love you so dearly that I cannot bear to think of your doing anything to lessen my high opinion. I have your honour and your good fame to think of as well as my own, and I hold them both as sacred. Father and mother shall not have cause to reproach you on my account. Therefore, promise never again to speak as you have spoken to-day. Dear old boy, long ago, on a bright summer afternoon, we rode to the kennels together, and on the way home you told me I must go straight as a die. You only meant going straightacrossacountry ; but, through all my misery, I have steadily striven to tako that advice as the motto of my lifo, and act up to it. ' Straight as a die,' Bob,' she repeated, raising her voice, with a kind of exultation, ' in spite of treachery, unkindness, and unhappiness, in spite of every ihiny and every body, % straight as a die' until death. Don't you think there's a touch of grandeur about it V * I don't know, Dulcie,' he said, speaking in thick, broken accents.

'Yes, you do, Bob. You know quite well, just as well as I do, and you'll never ask me to go crooked again, will you ? We must both take the fences of life without swerving.' She looked up at him with such loving eyes that they shamed every remaining feeling of earthly passion, hushing it into rest as a mother hushes a beloved child. • God in heaven bless you, my darling,' he said, huskily. ' Dulcie, you are an angel, and as much above mo as the stars and the sun are above the earth on which we tread. I will go now, but now and then I may como and see you, may I not ?' ' No, Bob,' &he said, struggling hard to suppress hor tears, 'it is wiser not. The less seldom you and I meofc the hotter for both of us. We love each other so well that, with the best intentions in the world, the temptation of to-day might occur again in the future, and I — I — ' blushing suddenly as she made the confession, 'dare not trust myself too ofton.' ' Dulcie,' he pleaded, ' if only you will let mo come, if only I may see you at intervals, i swear solemnly never to re-oflond. This shall be my rirsfc and last offence.' It seemed so hard to refuse him, to shut out all chance of their over meeting again ; yet she knew full well that for both their sakes &he must keep firmly to her resolution. She had successfully resisted temptation up till now, but she might not always be equally strong, and a great horror of wrong-doing filled her whole soul. Bather than drag him down, socially and morally, she would sooner that they both should die. 'Little woman,' he urged, gaining courage from her t-ilence, ' consider all that the permission means to me, and, for God's sako, don't say no.' ' Bob,' she said, with unerring feminine instincts, appealing in her weakness to every higher feeling of chivalry, ' can you not perceive that, however innocent your visits might be, they would infallibly provoke remark, and give room to cruel speculations which can have but one effect — that of injuring me?' He bowed his head in a perfect agony of grief and love. ' Must I wish you good-bye, then ?' he murmured hoarsely. 'Good-bye forever? Oh ! " for ever " is such a long, long, dreary time to look forward to ! Dulcie, don't pronounce the words lightly. Think of what good-bye for ever really means.' 'I have thought, Bob,' she answered, sadly, ' and can picture to myself a species of passive existence in which the body lives, after a fashion,' whilst the heart is broken ; but beautiful as i& true love, Right is more beautiful still— that force which impels us towards the good, and makes us turn our backs on the bad. ' Without another word he took up his hat and went towards the door. * Then a sudden, surging flood of despair overtook him, and, with two hasty strides, he was at her side, clasping her convulsively to his heart, and pressing fierce kisses on her trembling lips. Vainly she struggled, until at last he loosed her irom his hold. 'Good-bye Dulcie,' he said. 'Good-bye, my life, my darling ! Don't be angry with me and despise me altogether ; but I am mad when I think how these kisses will have to last until the end of my days, and how the memory of them, growing fainter and fainter as the years go by, will constitute all my slender stock of happiness in the future.' At that moment the door opened and Dennis Denver entered the room.