A DIPLOMATIC ENGAGEMENT.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 59, 1 June 1907, Page 4

A DIPLOMATIC ENGAGEMENT.

-Mrs llcm.ley had run through tie gamut, of remarks customary to the in let-change of feminine amenities, and having reached the end of a long list of questions, the replies to which did not appear particularly to interest her, she came to the subject uppermost in her mind. "Xow. do tell me, dear Holla—in the strictest confidence, of course—is it settled?"

-Mrs Wharton, a handsome woman of forty summers, looked at her visitor with a delightfully ingenuous expression. "Is what settled?" she queried. "You know, you naughty thing!" laughed .Mrs Hemsley. "I've looked in on purpose to hear, and I don't mean to go until you've told me." "I'm afraid you'll have to; I've an appointment at four o'clock." "With the Count?" suggested Mrs I Hemsley softly. "Since it interisls you—yes, with Count Leonardo Caponsacchi di Pacehi- | arotto." !

"My sweet Bella, don't keep me iu suspense—tell me, has lie proposed?' "Xot yet, but 1 fancy he will h '.ve done so by -1.30 this afternoon." "How thrilling! Do tell me about it." "There's nothing to tell; the t. ouut is at present, my very good friend. "Charmine; man, isn't he?" "Yes," I always like foreigners; they have such perfect manners."

"Perfect manners and no morals." "My Count is the exception; he is the best of men." "Why should you have such unusual luck, I wonder? remarked Mrs Hemsley with thinly-veiled sarcasm. "The reward of virtue no doubt." At the sound of an electric bell Mrs Wharton rose and hurried her friend int'i lan adjoining room with the whispered injunction to leave as soon as the expected visitor was shown in. "His Excellency Count Caponsacchi di Pacchiarotto," annouced the widow's trim parlor - maid. The name tripped gliby from her tongue, but it had taken Mrs Wharton forty minutes of patient instruction to produce the required lluency.

The Count was a remarkably handsome man, with a black moustache curling fiercely upwards, and a j;air of fine restless dark eyes—which glowed with ardent passion, or welted in tender submission—as the ease demanded. He came forward now with "empress?ment." "All! It is good of you to receive me, dear lady." lie spoke in excellent English with a fascinating foreign accent. ''So good of you to come," replied the widow. "I have been very lonely, iuy uuar Count, since you were here last. The autumn days and long, dark evenings are so depressing!" "All! But not here in England, with your great fires, it is so—what you ea'! sitting over the fire with one—it is delightful—but for me, of course—-' She broke oil' with a sigh, and motioned the fount to a chair on the oppsite side of the tire.

"\ r ou are thinking of the past, of tb» late Mr Wharton, no doubt."

.Mrs Wharton shook her head. "Xo, Count, the past is said, and Mr Wharton also. Why should I exlmme either?- • ihey are better buried!" "It is sometimes so," he acknowledged; 'but you have to'.d me you possess many friends, great and wealthy, who should welcome you in their midst." "Yes, yes, but I have no heart for the gaiety of large house-parties, or the giddy whirl of society, so I remain here alone!" i

''it is sad," the Count murmured vaguely. Mrs Whartot raised a white beji -veiled hand ami wiped her eyes unostentatiously with a dainty late handkerchief. "Pardon me, dear lady, but that is a most beautiful diamond—an exquisite ring." '"Yes, a fine stone. It belonged to an 'lndian Maharanee; I met her slaying al Lady Torchestcr's." "And she took so much to you that she presented you with the ring," suggested the Count. Mrs Wharton nodded. "Wasn't it sweet of her?"

"You are lucky to have such friends and such jewels," he added. '•Ah! But that doesn't often happen. English people don't give their diamonds away." "No, but often they give themselves away, as you say, and the diamonds follow! i have read with surprise the immense robberies you suffer in England. It was your rings vlii'.'h made me think of it."

"How strange you should mention that! T have a perfect horror of burglavs. T suffer agonies of terror alone sometimes at night." "You are nervous; you need a protector It is strange you have

never married again." "Ah! Count; a wealthy widow must be wary. 1 haw waited, hoping one day to liud a ,gool disinterested man who should love me for myself alone." ".Madame, one could love you for nothing better. A man would be rich to pos.-ess y<m without one sou." "Oh! Count!" Mis Wharton blushed charmingly. (It was an accomplishment -die had acquired in early youth and .-till retained).

"It is so. I would feel the happiest man in creation if you would smile *pn mc, and one day let me make you

mini'!" "This is so sudden. Count, so unexpected!" "Tlu-y tell me it is the. unexpected which happens." "The unexpected, iiuleeil, if tit Just t have found a man who loves me for myself alone, not for money." "Sweet lady, 1 would not care if you had not one penny.''

Mrs Wharton - ; > ■'•■ n was not a sorrowful sigh .' but one of complete satisfi..'.. ... '■Thank Heaven, 1 have wealth." she iiiurinured; "it is worth a fortune to hear you say my money is nothing to you!"

"Dear Bella. -\h!" Hie. Count sighed, lie possessed hi,.iself of (he widow's hand, and his magn'f'ecni "Ves rested on her face with a melt,-, expressible happiness. U was not until some :,'■. (he Count rose to leave. "[ am due at the Italian Embassy 'night," he told her. "Ah! It will be delightful when you take me with you into that great political world, of which you, my Leonardo, are niieh a shining light." "It is your imagination, my beautiful Bella, which magnifies me. True, I came to England on a private mission—very important—but lam only the tool;

I merely obey." "Hut Mich missions require great tact I -great intellect." The ('omit shrugged bis shoulders. "I hope to satisfy my master." lie bent to kiss his fiancee, and. with a lingering backward glance, left the dainty drawing-room of .Mrs Wharton's fiat. Left alone, the captivating widow smiled triumphantly. "I told Clara hairpast four, and it struck the half-hour as I accepted liiiu!'

Sic studied herself in an Empire mir(ror, which Imny; ::',.... e the mantelpiece. j"l don't see why Ir shouldn't be in love with inc." she ivllected; "I've certainly kept my looks, and if my money was an attraction, well, a woman may have more than one. The Countess Caponsacchi di IV-chiavotto! What a vista of new possibilities opens before me! I congratulate you on yur prospective position." She swept her reflection a profound curtesy, and rang for a brandy ami soda.

It was two months since the Count laid successfully wooed and won the blushing widow. The wedding-day was lixed, and all wont merrily as the wed-ding-day bell. No woman could have desired a more ardent ami devoted lover. If Mrs Whnrlon had any misgivings as to her attraction for the Count, centring round her banking account, he. had done his I«>st to dispel than. She had of late felt inlnitively that liis attachment to h'.T was genuine. Mrs Wharton also [found herself thii.kim; less of his title and caring novo for the man. Could it be possible, she a-d;ed herself, that she iviis falling in lore at forty? Why not ? t-ae didn't look move Ue.m thirty, and

I'-ily to thidy-thrce. go the : widow- faxed the fact with something of satisfaction that she was experiencing a late edition of her tender passion.

On the eve of her wedding-day Mrs Wharton was surprised iu the midst of packing an elaborate trousseau by the information that the Count awaited her in the drawing-room.

I H was a most unexpected visit, and, in a state of some agitation, she slipped on ime of her new tea : gowns and hastened to hear what had brought her fiancee, when, but a few hours since they had parted, to meet again only before the priest who was to make them one.

"Leo! What is the matter? How ill and worried you look. Tell me quickly. Have you bad news?"

The Count nodded; be apparently could find ho words to explain his agitation.

"Has anything happened?" the widow inquired anxiously. [ "Yes." His voice sounded harsh and strained. "Y'es, a strange thing has happened, my conscience was awakened. • ■ • I—l cauuot marry you to-mor-

row." "What!" cried Mrs AYharton, "you cannot marry me? Is it a woman who has come between us?" "A woman! No, no—l say it is my conscience." "Your conscience, Leo? What do you mean?"

"Sit down; I will tell you all from the beginning. I will tell you the truth, and you will not forgive me. When I first met you at the Ritz Hotel, 1 thought you a beautiful woman. I spoke to a man hi the smoking-room, a man r had seen you talk with. He told me that you were a wealthy widow—alone, • and very charming.' He introduced us, iln J i JilfiliWßWfi both rich and influential. So I come to call, I (latter you, I make love, and ask you to marry me. You like my title. I know all ihat; but now, Bella, now it is otherwise. I care no more for your money. I care only for you—for you; so much, that I come to-night to say adieu for ever—T give yon up!" "But I don't understand, Leonardo. You meant to marry me for my money; of course, I" knew that. You realised I only thought of your title. Then we could cry miKs; but now you say you really love me, and yet you wish to part!"

"Wait!" The Count raised his hand, and Mrs Wharton noticed that it shook. "Wait—it is not finished. It- was to be the Countess Caponsacehi di Paeehiarotto that you wished to marry me. Well, you nev •!' could bo that." "Ah!" cried Mrs Wharton in horror. | "You have a wife living!"

"Xo, ! have no wife—but I have no title either. lam simply an Italian adventurer. lam no Count—no diplomat!"

"What!" Mrs Wharton's voice rose shrilly. "What, you have deceived me. How could 1 be such a fool!" she wailed.

"That is enough to make you cast me from you," the man said humbly. "Wait—wait," she murmured. "Let me think. 1 can't <vnlle realise it yet." "But, madame, this is not the end. My confession is not finished; the worst is yet to come. When you have heard all you will not say 'wait' any more. Y'ou will say 'go,' and you will turn from me in horror."

"What more can there be to know? Co on—tell me."

"Ah! But how can I tell you? If you look at me 1 cannot. So I will speak; only remember, because I love you. because I choose to."

Mrs Wharton bowed her head, and her lover continued: "I am no Count; but you will not believe, I think, when 1 tell you I was paid to come to lingland and marry a. lady with money. 1 was given enough to stay at the best hotels, to live as the position demanded, with my valet and my carriage. It was worth wliile, so that I may have the entree into the society of the wealthy, that I might go to the great houses, and l know many useful thinks. It was deputed to me to do this because T speak good English. But I have failed—failed " He bowed his head on his hands.

"Then you arc on a diplomatic errand —that at least was true." The man smiled in the midst of his tragedy. "I was on a diplomatic errand. Yes, but it was scarcely political. It was more criminal." "Criminal! Good heavens! What

do yon mean?" "I will lell you. I belong to a notorious society—a great society of ihieves and coiners." An exclamation of astonishment broke from the widow. 'Ts this true?" she gasped. '■Tviie, madamc! Should I invent such n story? I have finished. If it is possible, give me your hand in token of forgiveness before we part for over." "Where—where are you going?" "To Italy--In meet my fate." "Do you know what thai fate will her"

"Death." Tin limn raised his bend a ; .1 but b . :.> .:'.;i mission—of t!-. o-■-in tell mc?" it was impossible for mo (:• mi with no explanation lie.cio i'lief has his honor, because—l love ;-, i'!" "Siadi lev should surely be rewarded," she said no'tly. "My v ward i» to have loved you" lie replied. Mrs Wharton turned her head awav and looked into the (ire. Presently sh« spoke. "Leonardo, what if T were to forgive you '.'" Th" man started and took a step towards her. "Forgive me! Ah. then, T could face death cheerfully." "It is for my sake that von will .die'" He bent his head in silence. ' ''Hut I could save you!" she put th"! question eagerly,

"No," lie replied sadly; "you cannot save me." '"Except by marrying youl" He smiled sardonically. "Thai would lie the only way. Uood-bye; I thank you for your goodness, sigiujvn." Tile man bowed and slowly walked across the room. "Leonardo!" i lie slopped with his hand npon the door-handle. J I were willing to marry yoUj in SJlit( , of W , M( . .vou cold me," .Mrs Wlurton said in a low voice. He, raised his head proudly. "You would do this to save me,'l mi( ierKtnnrt. You are an angel, but I would

never-never accept your sacrifice." Once more he would have opened the '•»'"•■ l'"t Mrs Wharton again recalled him. '■Leonardo, it is not to save you that I would marry you, but liecauso-I love you!" "Ah!" exclaimed the man; "do not torture me, it is more than I can bear I '»» «o better than the burglars you fear so greatly-helter dressed, better eduMed; but still, only „ eommou thief. Vou could not marry me." j

| Mrs Viharlon extended her hand to Uu> quondam Count-the h,,ul npon which gleamed the Maharanee's diamond. U might be possible, Leonardo, because, you see-I'm in the same line myself. —sl. Crcagh Henry in M.A.P.