CHAPTER IX. THE THIRD WARNING.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 414, 26 October 1889, Page 4

CHAPTER IX. THE THIRD WARNING.

This rain passed with the night, and a slight frost set in with the new day. Mr Dmtree whs duo at a hunting party at Langton Brake, to be followed by a ball at Langton Koyals. Ho would meet Miss Dangerfieid on his way to cover, and she should fix their wedding day. ' A toutherly wind and a cloudy sky proclaim it a hunting morning,' Mr Dantroo hummed. ' Before I am three hours older I shall put my fate to the touch, "to win or lose it all.'' I wonder if a baronet's daughter could get up her (rouleau in three months ? She won't object to naming an early day, ] know ; she's in love with me beyond all redemption and I'm in love with her — eight thousand a year.' Mr Dantree breakfasted, mounted 'a red roan steed,' and looking unspeakably well in his very becoming minting costume, set oft for the moot at Lungton Brak<\ The baronet's daughter was there before him, surrounded by half a dozen red-coats, sitting a powerful - looking black horse as though it had been an easy chair, and looking-, as she always did on horseback, her best. But while she talked and laughed with her attendant cavaliers, her gaze kept ever impatiently turning in one direction, and as Gaston Dantree galloped up, a light Hash of glad welcome lit the clear eye. •Late, Gaston ; lato again. I wonder if you ever were or will be in time for anything in your life. Any man who would piove himself a laggard on such a glorious morning deserves — what docs he deserve, Captain De Vere ?' 'The loss of Miss Dangerfield's favour, the hea\ iest loss I know of. A laggaid in the hunting field Mr Dantree may be, but he certainly has proven himsolf anything but a laggard in lovo.' And bowing low after this feimll stab, and with a sarcastic curl of his tatvnymoustached mouth, the captain of the Plungers rode away. He hold the handsome, silver- voiced, oily-tonguedSoutherner in contempt and aversion — trost men did — without exactly knowing why. There are men whom men like, and men whom women like, anci Mr Dantree, happily for himself, was ono of tho latter. A loud cry of ' there they come ' proclaimed the anival of the hounds. The huntsman as he passed cast surly elancW toward Mis& Dangerfield and ono or two other mounted ladies, with prophetic visions of their heading the fox, and being in the way. The hounds were put in the goise, and the pink coats began to move out of tho field into the lane — viiss DangerHeld and her dark lover with them. A loud 'Hallo' rang shrilly out, the hounds came with a rushing loar over a fence. ' There he i 3 !' cried a score of voices, as the fo\ Hew over the ground, aud with a ringing shout Kathorine Dangerfield flew along on black Ilderim, steady as a rock and upright as a dart. Her brilliant eye 3 were flashing now with the hunter's fire— even Gaston Dantree wat forgotten. The roan flew along helter-skelter besido Iklcrim for a few minutes, then fell hopelessly behind. Mr Dantree counted neither courage nor horsemanship amoncr his many virtues. On and on like the wind — Ilderim flew the fences — with a tremendous rush he leaped chasms and hedges his dauntless rider takingevery thing before hei. The master of the hounds himself looked at her in a glow of admiration— the black Arab flew over everything, scorning to turn to the right or left, and after a brilliant burst of over an hour, the heiress of Scar* wood had the tiiumph and delight of being one of the fortunate few in at the finish — in time to see the dead fox held over the huntMiian'd head with the hounds hanging expectant around. She laughed — eyes and teeth flashing dazzlingly — as she received the biush from tho huntsman, and the innumerable compliments from the gentlemen v, ho crowded around the heroine of the hour. ' ' Yes' &he -aid, ' I can ride — about the only thing 1 can do. No, Mr Dantree, Ido not want a compliment from you, and I can't pay one cither. Your roan balked shamefully, and you are the lust man in. But to be late, as 1 said before, on all occasions, is your normal state.' ' Being first in your regards 1 can bear the rest with philosophy, Miss Dangerfield. Fall back from those people, and rein in that black whirlwind of youis, and ride back to Langton ltoyals with me.' She looked at him quickly— some tone in his voice, some look in his eyes startled her. ' Gaston, something hats happened 1' ' Yes — nothing to> be alarmed about, howover. Only thib -I must go back to New Orleans.' 1 Gaston !' It was a sort of dismayed cry. If he had ever doubted his power over her !ic would have been reassured now. The glad light died out of her face as she turned to him. 'Go back to New Orleans ! Why should you go back ? I thought— 1 1 You thought 1 was never to go back any more. You thought this sort of plea sant existence — driving, hunting, singing, and being happy — taking no thought, like lilies of the field, etc., was to go on for o\er. My dear little simple Kathie ! you seem to forget that though you are born to the purple, I am not. You forget that mon must work and women must weep. You forget that you arc engaged to a poor beggar, who earns his bread by the sweat of his brow or his brains. You forget, in short, that I am not the heiress of Scarswood, with eight thousand per annum, or Captain De Vere, next heir to a peerage, but Gaston Dantree, Bohemian, literary hack— only too thankful if his flimsies for the New Orleans journals pay for the coat he weara and the bed he sleeps on. You forget that, my dear, impetuous little gill, but, bvJo\e, [ don't !' ' And what's all that to do with it ? Why can't things go on as they are? Why can't you stop at Morecambe until—' Miss Dangerfield stopped abruptly. ' Until our wedding day, is that what you mean, Kathio ? Ah ! but you sec that seems such a very indefinite period. Mr Talbot was kind enough' to invite me to run down to his place in Sussex for a week's August fishing, and I Was to repay his hospitality by singing songs. August has passed, October is here, and — so am I still. And, unfortunately, singring is such an unsubstantial mode of payment, even the finest tenor voice is apt to pall upon a Sussex Squire, after three months' incessant listening to it. I had a letter last night from New Orleans — not a pleasant letter— and it comes to one of two things now, either to go back to Louisiana and rosume my quill-driving, or — ' Mr Dantree paused and looked at her — 'or,' he repeated with that smile of his, the baronet'.s romantic daughter thought the most beautiful on eaith — 'or, Kathie. ' Yes, Gaston V

'Or you must marry mo oub of hand. Do you hear, Kubhie?— fcako me for better or worse, and support me afterward. That's what it comes to in plain English. One may be in love ever co deeply, but one must have three meals per diem and pay the tailor and boot-maker. I have just money enough to last precisely two months and a half — I've been totting it up. After that the work-house btares me in the face, I'll defy tho minions of the newspaper, Kathie, if you say so, and I'll go to the Castleford Arms and wait until the happy day conies, that makes you all my own. If not— why then—' Mr Dantree paused I'ind produced his cigar-case. ' You'll permit me, I know, Kathie? You're awfully ton&ible on the subject of cigars, and I'vo been thinking so deeply ever since I got that confounded letter, that my brain — such as it ia — is dazed. I need a smoke , to support mo under all this.' 1 Then there was silence, while they rode on slowly in the rear of the hunting party —Mr Dantree philosophically pufiinir his cigar, and Katherine, her checks flushed 1 with very unwonted colour, and.lips sealed j with still more unwonted silence. 1 Well,' ho said, as the turrets and peaked gables of Langton Royals bore in si^ht, 'I dou't want to beimpoitunate, my dear, but I buspense isn't a pleasant thing. When a man io under pontence, the soonor he hears his doom and knows tho worst, the better. Am I to go to New Orleans, to lisk all that may come to part us tor ever, or am I to—' 'Stay, Gaston !' Mi Dantree drew a long breath of great relief. Vov one moment) he had doubted — for one agonising moment the eight thousand a year seemed trembling in the balance. '•My loyal little girl ! I .shall thank you for this when two score people are not looking on. lam to stay and send tho New Orleans editors an diable, and the wedding day will be — when, Kathie? My piincely fortune will keep me about two months, and allow me a new suit of clothe?, I suppose, to be made happy in. When, Kathie — when — when— when '!' ' (iaston, I don't know. It is so horribly sudden. Good Heavens ! only two months ! Ono can't prepare,' 'Oh yes, one can. Import the trousseau from London or Paris. They'll send jou on the thousand and one things brides seem to require in a week. Be rational, Kathie ; that objection is ovorrulod. Name tho next.' 'Id is easily named, Papa will never consent.' 'All, now you have come to the hitch in the matter. I think it very likely the ancient wariior may put in his veto. But it in for you to overrule that. You're not the bright, clever little dialing I give you credit for if you can't do it easily. In fche bright lexicon ot youth, you know, theie's no such word as fail. You can do it, and you've got to do it yourself, by Jove ! I faced the music once, and I'd rather keep my countenance a\erted from the melody tor the fututo. He does the hoavy father to perfection, and I never had a ta-t-3 for private theatricals. .Suppose I spare your blushes, and fix the day myself? Suppose I select New Year's evp. Wo couldn't wind up tho old year in a jollier manner than by being married, and enjoying ourselves in Paiis for the lest of the winter. Come, now, my darling, don't object. Biitig the nohle baronet round to reason, and make youi Gaston the happiest man on this reeling globe on New Year's eve. Quick -oh, hang him ! Here comes De Vere. Quick, Kathie ; Yes or no V' • Ye?.' She just had time to flutter forth that one little word, when the captain of the Plungers Purple lode up on his givsy charger to solicit the second waltz at the bail that night. • [ used io wiite my name first on your li*b, Miss Dangertield,' the captain said, plaintively, • but all that's over now, 1 with a glance at Dantree ; ' and I must be resigned to my fate of second tiddle. Twas e\er thus, etc. 1 tmst hunting in Uiife damp air has not impaired your voice for "The Wine Cup is Sparkling," Mr Dantreo ':' They lode on to Langton Royals together — Katherine unusually silent. She glanced furtively now and then at her two cavaliers. How much the handsomer her lover was. Such easy, negligent grace of manner ; how well ho talked ; how well he sang ; what a paragon he was among men. What a contrast Randolf Cromie Algernon De Vere, riding beside him, wa&. with his hoavy, iloiid, Biitish complexion, his ginger whiskers, his sleepy, blue eyes, and his English army drawl. He was the son of a dead peer, and the brother of a live one ; but his no&o was a pug, and his hands and feet were large, and he had never thought, or paid, or done a clever thing in his lite. 'And papa wanted me to marry him.'* Miss D.inueiHeld uhouuht, with unutterablo contempt; 'after seeing Gaston, too ! How impatient he is to have our wedding day fixed — how he seems to dread losing me. And people call him mercenary and a fortune-hunter. I shall speak to papa tomorrow, nnd ho shall consent.' The hunting party dined at Langton Royals. Miss Dangerfield's French maid had come over from Scarswood with her young lady's ball toilet, and when Mr Dantree entered the biilliantly lighted ballroom and took a critical survey of his allianced wife, he was forced toconfe=s that great happiness made the dark, sallow heiiess of Sear»wood very nearly handsome, i She wore — was she not a heroine and a bride elect ?— a floating flimsy robe of misty white, a crown ot dark-green ivy leaves on her bright chestnut floating hah —all ntwinkle with diamond dowdrops — her white shoulders rose exquisitely out of the foamy lace — her great, brilliant eyes had a streaming light, a faint llueh kindled her dusky cheeks. ' Have you noticed the little Dangerfield, Talbot ?' Captain De Vere remarked to his) friend, the Squire of Morecambe. ' She's in great feather to-night, growing positively good - looking you know. See how ehe smiles on that shrewd little follow, Dantree. Why can't we , all be born with Grecian profiles and tenor voices ? Sceme a pity too she should be thrown away on a cad like that-such a trump of a gill a& ehe is, and such a walt/er. Look at her now floating away with him. Clearest case of spoons I ever oaw in mv life.' Captain De Vere leaned against a piilar, pulled his leonine moustache, and watched Miss Dangeriield and her lover circling down the long room with gloomy eyes. It would have been contrary to all the principles of his life to fall in love — it was tho proudest boast of the Plungors that they never were guilty of that weakness, but still — oh, hang it all ! Why couldn't that fellow keep his confoundedly handpomo face and diabolically musical voice for transatlantic heiresses, and not come poaching on British manors. Why couldn't he marry a Yankee wife, who talked through her nose, and whoso father had amassed a fortune selling groceries, and not mix the best blood in Sussex with the plebeian puddle in his veins ? Why couldn't she keep true to her order? Why didn't Sir John kick thq fellow downstairs when he had the audaloity to demand his daughter's hand ? Sir John, the proudest old martinet in the aimy. A fine precedent to be set to the duughtors of the county gentry-— tho son of

a Yankee butcher or blacksmith lording ib in Scarswood and taking his place among the patricians of. Sussex, with the beat blood in England in their veins, and an ancestry that ran back do the conquest and Norman William. 4 And the cad's a scoundrel, the captain thought, glowering with human ferocity ; * vain as a woman of hi^ pretty face and voice, with no more affection for that sentimental, hero-worshipping little girl of {seventeen thaif / have— not half so ' much, by George ! She'll marry him and come to grief — the worst sort— mark my word !' The first waltz ended, the captain's turn came.' The. unusual exertion of thinking had fatigued the young officer's intellect; the physical exertion of waltzing with Miss l> mgertield. would counteract it. And Miss Danger Held was such a capital dancer, such a jolly litilo .girl every way you took her ! ; How she laughed, how she talked, what a clear, sweet, fresh, young voice she hud, how bright were her eyes, how luxurious 1 hei blown, waving hair, — not pretty, you know, like half the other gills in the room, with wax-work faces and china-blue eyes, but twice as attractive as the ptettiost of of them— one of those girls whom men look after on the street, and ask their names - a siren with a callow complexion and eyos of stau y lustre. 4 She's got brains, and the rest have beauty — I suppose that's about it — and beauty and brains never travel in company. She is far the cleverest little girl of my acquaintance, and, it you notice, it's always your clever women who marry goodlooking fjols. Egad ! I wish I had proposed for her myself. Marriage is an institution" I'm oppo.^ed to on principle. " Britons never shall bo slaves," and so forth — and what's your mariied men but the most abject of slaves? I believe I've been in lovo with her all along and never knew it. "How blessings brighten as they take their flight !" When T could have had her I didn't want her ; when I can't have her, I do.' ' (Hi !' Katherine fighed, in ecstasy, ' that was a delicious waltz ! I was born to be a ballet-dancer, I believe--! could keep on for over. Captain De Vere, you're the first heavy dragoon I ever knew who didn't disgraco himself and his partner when he attempted lound dances. Is that Mr Dantrce singing in the music room ? Yes, it is; and you have a soul attuned to the magic of sweet sounds — don't say no ; I'm sure you have -so have I ; come !' Yes, Mr Dantrce was singing ; that is what he was tlnrc for ; his voice tor the past ten years had been the open sesame that tlnew wide the most aristocratic portals, where else he had never set foot. A little group of music lcveis were around him, drinking in the melody of that most charming voice. Mr pan tree was in his element -he always was when surrounded .by an admiring crowd. This song was a Tyrolean warble, and the singer looked moielike an angel than ever, in a white waistcoat and tail coat. 'May Old Nick fly away with him!' growled Capt 'in Pc Vere, inwardly, 'and hi* classic countenance, and Maiio voice ! What a blessing to society if he became a victim to small pox and chronic bronchitis ! It's no wonder, after all, that little Kathie, a beauty worshipper by nature, is infatu ated. Well, my man, what is it/ For a six-foot spectre, in plush and kneebreeches, had appeared suddenly, and stood bowing before them. 4 1 beg jour pardon capting — it's Mi&s Dangertield's maid as wishes to speak to Miss Dangei field for a hinstant, hif hagreeable,' ' Ninon !' said Katherine — ' what does she want? — where is she? Oh, I see her ! -ExQute me a moment, Captain De Vere. 1 The French maid was standing just outside the door of the mubic room, holding a small white paroel in her hand. ' Well, child,' her mistress said impatiently — the little French gill was five years her senior-—- 4 what do you want V 'It's this packet, mademoiselle; John Thomas tound it on the floor ot the gentleman's cloak room, and he thinks it belongs to Mr Dan tree.' ' Indeed ! And why does John Thomas think so?' 4 Because, mademoiselle, it is addressed to New Orleans. Will mademoiselle please take it and look?' Kathio took the little white package and looked at the address Ye«, beyond doubt, it was Gaston's hand. 4 Mlus. Matue De Lansac, ' Rue de — New Oi lcans, Louisiana.' There was a moment's pause. The girl stood expectant, the young lady stood holding the package in her hand, looking strangely at the addiess. It was Gaston's writing, no doubt at all about that ; and who ■was ' Mile. Marie De Lansac,' of New Orleans, and what did this package contain ? Letters, suiely — and this hard, card•ike substance, a photograph no doubt. Mr Dan tree had told her his whole history as she supposed, but no chapter headed 4 Marie De Lansac ' had appeared. And as Katheiine stood and looked, her lips set themselves in a rigid line, and a lijjht not usually there, nor pleasant to see, came into her grey eyes — the green light of jealousy. 'This package belongs to Mr Dan tree, Ninon ; John Thomas was quite right. Here, tell him to—or no,' abruptly, 'I'll givoit to Mr Pan tree myself.' The package was small, her hand closed firmly over it as she walked back to the music room. Mr Pan tree had just finished his Tyrolean choru?, and was smiling and graciously receiving compliments Ho made hie way to Katheiine's side and diew her hand within his arm, as one who had the right, 4My dear child,' he said, ' what has ' happened now ? why, oh why that face of owl-like solemnity ! What's gone wrong ?' The large, crystal-clear, honest grey eyes were fixed on his face, keenly. 4 Yes, my love,' he said, 4 what is it?' 4 Gaston !' abruptly and with energy, 4 did you ever tell a lie ?' 4 Hundreds, my darl : ng,' responded Mr Pantree, with promptitude ; 4 thousands, million?, and likely to do so again. What an absurd question ! Did I ever tell a lie ? It sounds like the catechism. As if any man or woman lived who didn't tell lies ! ' 4 Speak for yourself, 1 the girl said, coldly; ' / don't and*l can't conceive of any man or woman of honour doing so. You see Captain Pc Vei*e there ?' 4 I'm thankful .to say I do not at this moment — military puppy ! ' ' Military puppy he may be — falsehoodteller I know he is not ; he is incapable of falsehood, dishonour, or deceit.' 1 Like the hero of a woman's novel, in short,' sneered Gaston Dan tree, 4 without fear and without reproach. My dear child, men and women who never tell lies exist in books 4I written for a purpose," and nowhere olse. But what are you driving at, my severe little counsel for the prosecution ? Let's have it without further preface.' 4 You shall, Mr Pantree. Who u Marie Pc Lansac?' Mr Dan tree was past-master of the polite art of dissimulation ; no young duko born to the strawberry - leaf coronet could be more unaffectedly vonehctlanl than he. His handsomo olive face was a mask that never betrayed him. And now, with a

start so slight as to be scarcely perceptible, \vith so faint a paling of the dark facethat she failed to see it, he turned to her, calm and cool' as ever. 'Marie De Laimc? Well, I know a young lady of that name in New Orleans. Who is die, you ask ? She's granddaughter of a French gentleman of that city, and I gave her singing lessons once ! upon a time. Aly dear little Kathie, don't annihilate me with those Hashing grey eyes of yours. There isn't any harm" in that, is there ? Theie's no need of the greeneyed monster showing his obnoxious claws.' He met her suspicious gaze full, and discovered for the fir&t time what an intensely proud and jealous nature he had to deal with. He was chill with undefired fear, but he smiled down in her face now with eyes as clear anil innocent as the eyes of a child. lls this all ?' she asked, slowly ; ' or is it only one of tho many lies you find it so necessary to tell ?' ' On my honour, no ; it is the truth ; as if I could speak anything else to you. But how, in Heaven's name, Kathie, did you ever hear of Marie De Lansac ?' She did not reply ; .«he still held the package ; she still looked at him distrustfully. 4 You gave her singing lesson?, this Miss De Linsac ?' slowly. ' She U young, I suppose ?' 'She i*.' * Handsome, no douot?' 4 Well, yes, she is handsome— not the style 1 admire, though.' 'Never mind your style — you admire nothing but plain young women with sallow skins and irregular features— that iunderstood. Mr Dantree, do you cor re?pond with this } oung lady f 4 Certainly not. Katherine, what do you mean ?' The careloss look had loft his face, the pallor had deepened. Who had been talking to her — what had she found out ? Good Heavens ! to have eight thousand a year quivering in the balance like this. • What 1 mean is this, Mr Dantree. This is your writing, I believe, and I infer you are returning Miss De Linsac's letters and picture. This packet fell out of your coatpocket in the cloak-room. You never c rre&ponded with Mi&s De Lansac — you only gave her singing lessons ? That will do, Mr Dantree — don't tell any more falsehoods than you can help.' She placed the packet in his hand. He had never thought of that. His face changed as she looked at him for a moment. In spite of the admirable training of his life he .stood before her dumb — condemned out of his own mouth. Tho steady, strong grey eyes never left his face — ber own was quite colourless now. f Not one word,' .she said, in a sort of whi&per ; ' and look at him. It is true, then—all they have said. He h false — false !' 4 L am not false !' Mr Dantree retorted, angrily. • Don't be &o ready to condemn unheird. If you will do me the honour to listen, I can explain.' She laughed contemptuous^. ' Not a doubt of it, Mr Dantree ! You could explain black was white if one listened to you long enough. I'm afraid 1 have listened to you too long already. How I many of the million lies you aie in the habit of tolling have you told me ?' ' Not one —not the shadow of one ! For shame, Katherine ! to taunt me with idle words spoken in jest. I have told you the truth concerning Miss De Lansac — the bimple truth — so far as I am concerned. I gave her music lessons— l never cared for her — no, Katherine, not one jot— but she — that is -she— oh, it i& quite impossible to explain !' ' She fell in love with you ? is that what your modesty will not pel mit you to say, Mr Dantree? She fell in love — this poor Miss De Lan&ac — with her handsome sing-ing-master whether he would or no V 4 Yes then !' Gaston Dantree said, folding his arms and looking at her with sulky deliance, 4 since you make me say it. Think me a coxcomb, a puppy, if you will, but shedidfallin lo\e with me, and she did write to me, &ince I left New Orleans. I never answered those ietteis. I told you the truth when I said I did not correspon i with her. Last night I came across them by chance, and as your plighted husband I telt I had no right even to keep them longer. I made them up as you see, to return to her, feeling sure that after that she would never address me again. I never told you of her — why should I ? She was simply nothing to me, and to tell you that a young lady of Now Orleans took a f-mcy to me, and wrote me letters, would not be very creditable to ?nc.' And then Mr Dan tree paused— still standing with tolded arms — posing bcautitully for a model of wounded pride. She drew a long breath. 4 And this is all V she said, slowly. 1 All, Miss Dangci'field — on my sacred honour !' 4 lf I could only think so! If I only dared believe you !' 'You are complimentary, Katheiiue! When you doubt my word like this it is high time for us to part' Ho knew her well— how to stab most surely. ' Part !' her sensitive lips quivered. 1 How lightly he talks of parting ! Gaston ! you &cc • I love you wholly— l trust you entitely. \ou are so dear to me that the bare thought of any other having a claim on you, be it ever so light, is unendurable. Will you swear to me that this is true ?' He lifted his arm — it gave the oath proper stage effect. ' By all I hold tacred, 1 swear it, Katherine It was not a very binding cath - there was nothing on the earth below, or the sky above, that Mr Gaston Dantree held sacred. But it is easy to believe what we most want to believe. As the old Latin saw has it, 4 The quarrellingof lovers was the renewing of love.' Mr Dantree and Mi?>3 Dangerfield kept devotedly together for the re&t of the night; and peace smiled again, but the ' cloud no bigger than a man's hand ' had risen that was speedily to darken all the sky. Katherine's p'erlect trust was gone — gone for ever. • Had he told her the truth, or was it all a tissue of falsehoods ? Had another woman a claim urjoii him and was it her fortune he loved, as everybody said — not herself ? 'And, powers above !' thought Mr Dantree ; ' what am I to do with a jealous, exacting wife ? What a savage look there was in her eyes for one moment; the Dangerfields were ever a bitter, bad race. A game where two women claim one man must be a losing game for the man in the end. I begin to see that.' At five in the mornings the ball at Langton Royals broke up. Miss Dangerfield was driven home through the oold blackness that precedes the dawn, shivering in her furred wraps. She toiled slowly and wearily upstairs. She had danced a great deal, and was tired to death. She had been in wild spirits tho first half the night, now the reaction had comei and ghe looked haggard ' and hollow-eyed, as she ascended to her ! room. It was all .bright in that sanctuaiy of maidenhood. A gonial fiio blazed on the hearth, her little whito bed, with its lace and silken drapeiies and plump, white pil-

lows, looked, temptingly cozy. A softl cushioned sleepy hollow, of an easy chair was drawn up before the fire. Katherine flung herself into it with a tired &igh. •It is good fco be homo,' she said. * Take off these tiresome thing?, £hnon — quick an.ltfo.' ' - - The deft-fingeied French girl obeyed. The floating, brown hair was brushed and bound for the pillow, the lace and tulle, silk and diamond spi ays were removed, and her night) - robe donned, and Katherine thrust her feet in slippers, and drew her chair closer to the fire. 'Anything more, mademoiselle ?' 1 Nothing, Ninon ; you may go.' The maid went, and the lieiie«s was alone. She felt tired and eleepy and out of sorts, but still she did not go to bed. She lay back in her chair and listened to the bleak morning wind howling Unough the trees of the park with closed, tired eyes. I Maiie De Lansac? Marie De Laneac !' She seemed to hear that name in the wailing of the wind, in the ticking of Ihe little Swiss clock, in the light fall ot the cinder?, and, with it ringing still in her ears, she chopped asleep. And sleeping, she dreamed. She was floating somewhere down a warm, erolden river, overhead a sunlit, rosy sky, all the air quhering with music. And as she floated on and on in a delicious trance she saw the golden &ky blacken, she heard the winds iii?e, and the river daikcn and heave. The muvc changed to the wild song oF a siien, luring her on to the black depths below. Down, down che felt herself sinking, the cold waters closing over her head. She looked up in her death agony, and saw her lover standing safe on the 'shore aud smiling at her throes. She stretched out her arms to him. ' Help, Gas ton, help !' she strove to cry, but the rising waters drowned her voico, and the shrill wind bore them away. The sis en song grew louder., She could hear the words, ' False as fair ! false as fair !' And still the waters rose. The white aims wreathed round her lover — standing smiling there— a beautiful, deriding face mocked her over his shoulder., I 1 am Maiie de Lan a ac,' said the taunting voice,' and he is mine.' '1 hen the bitter waters of death closed over her head, and with a trapping cry she started up awake— the fatal words yet ringing in her ears, • False as fair 1 false as fair !' The chill, grey light of the October dawn filled the room, the lire had died out black on the health, and she was cramped and cold. E\en in her dreams the warning came to her ! She drew out her watch and looked at the hour. Only seven, but Katherine Danger field slept no more. {To be Continued )