For Honor's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 7935, 8 January 1906, Page 2

For Honor's Sake.

By Bertha M. Clay. Author of " Wife in Name Only," il Wedded and Varied," "Dora Thome," "A Queen Antony Women," " A True Maf/daleuc," etc., etc.,

CHAPTER 111. —Continued

He ueed&d no play to-night; he bad coaio here "to kill time," to avoid worse boredom, and -lo! he was in a golden dream of perilous delight. Somotimes the girl would turn to him with the quick intuition of sympathy to make a remark, or ask a question; and always there was some bright thought, some evidence of keen perception, or a half quaint, wholly original idea. Aud this girl wan under the guardianship of an unprincipled man like Chris'Davenant, little better if at all, than an adventurer! What would he do with the treasure intrusted to him? Trade her beauty to the highest bidder, if she bad no money that he could squander. Did she at all comprehend the cbaraoter of the man under whose roof she lived? Probably not. \ When the curtain fell on the second act, Davenant rose. "There's Ponthieu m the pnrquette," he said to Claude., "I'll go down and speak to him, if you'll both excuse me." He had pretty well effaced himself already, and this move on hia part couflrmfld a half-formed impression in Captain Stewart's mind. Davenant bad had,a purpose in asking him to the box to-night; it was a kind of "plant." It was, perhaps, originally intended that Mrs Davenant, or some one else, should be of the party. Then Davenant met Guptaiu Stewart, rich and unmarried and plans were changed. Davonatit would go alone with Claude, and take an early opportunity of leaving her with the cuest. Why, it would be a fine thing if Captain Stewart fell in love with Claude. There was a want of delicacy about the modus operandi characteristic of the man, gentleman born, but essentially coarse by nature. That Claude had part or lot in this vulgar scheming the most stupid of men could not for an instant have supposed; but did she even faintly suspect it? J Stewart glanced at her keenly, j Clearly not. She probably thought that Davenant was only gone for a few minutes and would soon ! return; bat Stewart ma a man of the world, not a girl of 18, and for her sake he was sternly displeased. What did Davenant know of him to throw suoh power into his hands? and was he the only one who would in the future be so "trusted"? For Claude's manner convinced him i that Davenant's couduot on this occasion was new. She must have ■noticed it, if he bad even two or three times pursued similar tactics. But apart fiom the vexation on the girl's account, which a high-minded man must feel, he could not, for his own sake, regret being alone with Claude Verner. It did not matter what they talked about; she was by his side; he could drink in the varying beauty of her features, meet, now and then, the clear, pure gaze of the lustrouH eyes —what an earnest, wistful way she had of looking at you, sometimes! listen to the sweet, young voice now, and wish, alas! with a mad, useless longing that this "now" could ever change, unless it were to be forever. Somehow—did he so lead it, or -was it mere chance?—their talk drifted from the general into the personal and presently Stewart asked the girl if she had not French blood iin her veins, southern French? Sne smiled. "Partly," she said. "My mother's mother was an Arlesienne," said Claude. "I am named after her, my father was of Irish descent." "Why, that your name, and other things, • proclaim. But you were not Mr Davenant's ward when I met him three years ago, were you?" "Oh! no. I have only been with him three months. My father made friends with Mr Davenant, and ," Sbe stopped and coloured. "What ia it?" said he bending down a little, and the girl smiled involuntarily as she met his smile. ft was so tender and winning. ; "Why, you don't want my family history?" said she, half archly. "1 do, indeed," he .answered, earnestly, "as much as you will tell me. I have no right at all to ask anything: please go on." J That half wistful, but] penetrating look of hers, how it made his heart throb! Then she obeyed hia request. "My father died 18 months ago, and first I was to live with an aunt of mine, and then to go to Mr Davenant's care; so when my aunt died, he fetched me to live with them in Paris." "Is Mrs Davenant a French lady?" "No." Claude's eyes glanced over the house. "She is English." There she paused; but the very way in which the answer was given, without the pause, was enough to convince her companion that Mrs Davenant was no favourite, nor did he imagine that her guardian stood high ia her favour. When Stewart spoke again it was of something else. It would not be honourable to take advantage of a young girl by entrapping her into telling more of hdr home life than, perhaps, she would willingly disclose to a stranger. But her own general experience was another thing. She seemed to have led a varied life, going about from piece to place, in England and abroad; and, incidentally, Ca )- tain Stewart became a *are that the girl had no money. Her father was a younger son, there was more blood than means in the family, the lands were encumbered with mortgages, and the present owner, an old man 20 years older than Claude' father, scarcely knew of hia niece's existence. "Davenant's gsmie is clear," Stewart thought. "He looks upon this beautful girl aa a mere apeou-

lation. I don't thinK there's much Chris Daveuan would stick at. The husband may be anything so long as ho has wealth. But will she be so easy to deal with? By Heaven -" He caught his breath, and leaned back, feeling almost dizzy with the sharp revulsion. Was he maa? But two hours ago he did not know of Claude's Vomer's existence, and now the wild wish leaped up in his heart, that ho could stand between her and all evil that might befall her—he, whose faith and honour wore pledged. He was thankful that the rising of the curtain at that moment gave him time to pull himself toaether. He could not have done it all at once, and for fully fiice minutes the people and scenery on'the stage were only a blurred mass, and the voices of the antore « confused medley of sound. Then he had recovered his outward composure, could see what went on, speak to Ciaude, answer her if she spoke to him. "How many more acts are there after this?" ho asked her, presently. . ''Two," she answered. "This is a five-act piece. Aro you becomiug bored?" There was no coquetry in the question; Stewart foreboro to smile at its simplicity, as he replied: "Not in the least. I am deeply interested!" Which was true, though he did not mean interested in the play; but Claude thought he did, and repiied, a little doubtfully: "I hope you are, really." "Why should you think 1 ata not" "1 hardly know," she said, smiling. "I had an idea just now that you didn't care.much for the play." "Suppose that were so, you imagine I can have ho pleasure besides that I derive from the stage?" Look and tone pointed the words. Claude glancodat him,and laughed. "Am 1 to understand a pretty compliment?" she said roguishly. "That gives an impression of something that may or may not be true; but it is true that I find my chief pleasure to-night is quite independent of what is going forward on the stage; and if the play were in seven acts instead of five 1 would not wish it shortened by one scene." "Captain Stewart," said Claude, 'with demure gravity, though a light colour flitted across her oheek, "I ought to get up and sweep you a dignified courtesy; but as 1 supoose that wouldn't do," with a slight gesture toward the house, "please condider the acknowledgement made." "If you/ will have it that any is due." "Oh! I think so. I always say 'thank you' for pretty things, even when they have done duty before." "Miss Verner, 'I am afraid you have an Irish tongue." "And you a French one, or perhaps, a soldier's is sufficient; but now we have been missiug something," and she turned her face again to the stage. Stewart said ao more while the curtain was up; then came the close of the act, and he asked her if sbe would like to go out in the foyer. Claude half rose, then paused. "Won't it he rather a crush?" she said. "1 am afraid it will be. Pray don't move on my account Misa Verner. I am much happier where lam." Claude sat down again; in truth she found the sooiety of this handsome, soft voiced soldier very delightful and infinitely preferred being here with him, where they could talk unrestrainedly, to pushing about among a mob of people; but there was a vague vexation in her mind at Davenant's prolonged absence. (To be Continued).