CHAPTER IX.—(Continued.)

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 416, 2 November 1889, Page 5

CHAPTER IX.— (Continued.)

'lam not false!' Mr Danbioe retorted, angrily. ' Don't be &o ready to condemn unheard. If you will do mo the honour to listen, I can explain. 1 She laughed contemptuously. ' Not a doubt of it, Mr Dan tree ' You could explain black was white if ono listened to you long enough. T'm afraid i have listened to you too long alrea'iy. How many of the million lies you are in the habit of tolling have you told me ?' * Nob one — nob 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 — I never cared for her — no, Katherine, not one job— but she — that is— she— oh, it is quite impossible to explain !' ' She fell in love with you ? is that what your modesty will nob permit you to say, Mr Dantree ? She fell in love— this poor Miss De Lansac — with her handsome sing-ing-master whether he would or no V ' Yes then !' Gaston Danbree said, folding his arms and looking at her with sulky defiance, ' since you make me say it. Think me a coxcomb, a puppy, if you will, but she did fall in love with me, and she did write bo me, since I lefb New Orleans. I never answered those letters. I told you the truth when I said I did not correspond with her. Last night I came across them by chance, and as your plighted husband I felt I had no righb 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 thai a young lady of New Orleans took a foncy to me, and wrote me letters, would not be very creditable to me.* And then Mr Danbree paused — still standing with folded arms — posing beauliiully ior a model of wounded pride. She drew a long breath. ' And this is all ?' she said, slowly. 'AH, Miss Dangerfield — on vay sacied honour !' 'If I could only think so! If I only dared believe you !' 'You are complimentary, Katheiine ! When you doubt my word like this ib is high time for us to par*".* He knew her well — how to stab most surely. • Part !' her sensitive lips quivered. • How lightly he talks of parting ! Gaston ! you see — I love you wholly— l trust you entirely. You are so dear to me that the bare thought of any other having a ' claim on yon, be ib ever so light, is unendurable. Will you swear to me that this s true ?' He lifted his arm — it gave the oath proper stage effect. IBy all I hold sacred, I swear it, Katherine It was nob a very binding cath - there was nothing on the earth below, or the sky above, that Mr Gaston Dantree held sacred. Bufc ib is easy to believe what we most want, to believe. As the old Latin saw has it, 'The quarrellingof lovers was the renewing of love.' Mr Dantree and Mi»s Dangerfield kepb devotedly together for the rest of the night, and peace smiled again, bub bhe ' cloud no bigger bhan a man's hand ' had risen bhab was speedily bo darken all bhe sky. Katherine's perfecb brusb was gone — (rone for ever. ' Had he told her the truth, or was it all a tissue of falsehoods ? Had another woman a claim upon him and \\ as ib her fortune he loved, as everybody said — nob herself ? 'And, powers abce !' choughb Mr Dantree ; ' whab 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 muse be a losing game for tbe man in the end. I begin to see that.' At ffir 6\ r6r6r 6 in the morning the ball ab Lano--ton Royals broke up. Miss Dangerfield was driven home through the cold 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 the first half the night, now the reaction had come, and she looked haggard and hollow-eyed, as she ascended bo her room. Ib was all bright in bhab sanctuary of maidenhood. A genial fire blazed on the hearth, her little white bed, with its lace and silken draperies and plump, white pillows, looked temptingly cozy. A softl cushioned sleepy hollow of an e3sy chair was drawn up before the fire. Kabherino flung herself into it with a tired aigh. 'It ia good to be home,' she said. ' Take off these tiresome things, Ninon — quick — and go.' The deft-fingered French girl obeyed. The floating, brown hair was brushed and bound for the pillow, bhe lace and tulle, silk and diamond sprays 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 ?' ' Nothing, Ninon ; you may go.' The maid went, and the" heiress was alone. She felt tired and sleepy and out of ports, but still she did not go to bed. She lay back in her chair and listened to the bleak morning wind howling through the trees of bhe park with closed, tired eyes. ' Marie De Lansac ? Marie De Lanpac !' She seemed to hear that name in the wailing of the wind, in the ticking of the little Swiss clock, in the light fall of the cinders, and, with ib ringing still in her ears, she dropped asleep. And sleeping, she dreamed. She was floating somewhere down a warm, golden river, overhead a sunlit, rosy sky, all bhe air quivering with music. And as she floated on and on in a delicious trance she saw thegolden sky blacken, she heard bhe winds rise, and the river darken and heave. The music changed bo the wild song of a siren, luring her on to the black depths below. Down, down the 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 and smiling ab her throes. S,he stretched out her arms to him. 'Help, Gaston, help!' she sbrove to cry, bub the rising waters drowned Her voice, and the shrill wind bore them away. The siren song grew louder. She could hear the words, ' False as fair ! false as fair !' And still bhe wabers rose. The white aims wreathed round her lover — standing smiling there — a beautiful, deriding face mocked her over his shoulder. ' I am Marie de Lansac,' said the baunting voice, 1 and he is mine.'

Then the bitter waters of death closed over her head, and with a (rasping cry she started up" awake — the fatal words yefc ringing in her ears, ' False as fair ! false as fair !' The chill, grey light of the October dawn filled the room, the lire had died out black on the hearth, and she was cramped and cold. Even in her dreams the warning came to her ! She drew out her watch and looked at the hour. Only seven, but Katherine Dangerficld slept no more.