For Honor's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 7936, 9 January 1906, Page 2

For Honor's Sake.

By Bertha M. Clay. Author of " Wife in Name Only," " Wedded and Parted," (i Dora Thome," "A Queen Antony Women," " A True Maydalene," etc., etc.,

CHAPTER 111.—Continued. She did not, for an instant, supTiose it was designed; but it was -careless, she thought, not "good form," to leave her so long alone; with a man only introduced to her that evening. Captain Stewart must think it strango, and were he like some of the men she had met at her gua-dian's house, he would have taken advantage of the situation. But Esrio Stewart soon made her forget these perplexities, as he himself forgot time and everything else iu the enchantment of this girl's presence. At last Davenant returned to the box, apologising in his hearty way, for having been detained—he had got talking with first one then another—excuses which probably Claude believtd, and which Stewart, of course, regarded as if he believed them. When Ihe play was over, and Stewart was folding the girl's cloak carefully about her—how tall she was. by tho way, when she stood up —Davenant asked him when he was coming to the Pare Moncoau, in which locality the Davenant apartments were situated. Now Esrio Stewart ought to have -answered that he could make no promise, that be must leave Paris; any excuse to repel tho temptation that lured him on; but his pulses were throbbing, the blood was flie in bis veins. Claude stood before him, her soft breath almost fanned bis cheek, as be bent down to fasten the clasp of her cloak with flngera as deft to the task as her own; he was "gazing into the sweetest face his eyes had ever looked oa, and Lis was no equable temperament. He had the passionate Highland blood in his veins;,his whole aoing had been stirred that night as never before; and now, but a moment to choose between the right and the wrong, the temptation that made his senses reel, the "still small voice" that whispered, "Resist, resist!" How could he resist?. Could man that is born of woman fight against such odds? He was scarcely conscious of the inner voice, scarcely conscious of a pause, before he answered: "I hope to have the. pleasure of calling in a few days," and he saw the smile that gave him welcome in advance flash up into Claude's violet eyes, and part the curved lips. "Pray do," said Davenant. "Come into dinner, <=even o'clock, and spend the evening." "I shall be very happy." He led Claude out to the coupe, and when she gave him her hand, ; he bent over it, and just touched his lips to it. "Aurevoir," he said softly; and stepping back, the carriage drove away. Esric Stewart walked back to his hotel, and, when he reached his room, turned np the light. His face looked strangely white, his eyes seemed to burn. There were some letters awaiting him, and two newspapers—one a Loudon daily, addressed in Pauline's hand. With a kind of dread foreboding he tore it open. Yes—there was the paragraph—marked out in blue pencil. "We understand that a marriage will take plaoe, early in the autumn, between Captain Stewart, of Lochmobr, and Pauline Alice, widow of the late Richard Arnold, of Langford, Warwickshire." Stewart flung himself down in a seat by the table, and bowed his head on his oroased arms; and when the dawn crept in through the halfolosed windows, he sat there still, and when the broad sunlight put out the lamplight he had not stirred. Was that long agony of strife, hand to hand, of right against wrong, of honour against the passion whioh had sprung into the man's heart, and burned with such fierce strength?—or was it only the dumb protest of intolerable pain, the anguish of useless, hopeless regret? Why had love come to him in all the fullness of its strength, when it could only come as a curse? Was there no way? And if it should fail, what then? He lifted his haggard face to the mocking sunlight. "Would to Heaven," he said, "the bullet that laid me low had done its work more thoroughly, and stilled this heart of mine forever!" CHAPTER IV. THE PERILS OP LOVE. "M. de Captain Stewart!" announced the servant, opening the door of Chris Davenaut's parlour, and our hero found himself in a fair-sized aud well-furnished- room, containing, as he at once noticed, a grand piano; but the individual who probably made most use of that piano was not present. A handsome, stylish-looking woman of forty or thereabouts, wearing a tasteful dinner dress, was seated on the couch, and Chris Davenant came forward to meet his guest. "So pleased to see ycu," he said, shaking hahda in his hearty, cordial way, "Juila, my dear, Captain Stewart, of Lochmohr— my wife." Mrs Davenant held out her hand. "1 know your name quite well, of course, Captain Stewart," said she, smiling, alluding to his conspicuous bravery and splendid qualities as a soldier, "and I am delighted to have the opportunity of meeting you." Stewart made some graceful answer—he had the courtier's readiness j of tongue—and, seating himself beside his hostess, entered into conver | sation with her. But this Scotchman had exceedingly keen instincts, and that sympathetic mental sense of touch which is not so uncommon with women but is rare among men, and that sense found something anti- ! pathetic in Julia Davenant as in her husband; neithor the blunt heartiness of the one nor the more con-

volitional courtesy of the other conveyed an impression ot sincerity. As a man of the world, too, ho found something about Mrs Davenant that set him conjecturing. This, however, did not at once strike him; it grew upon him in the course of the evening. She was a lady by training —obviously accustomed to good society. There were no social or caste deficiencies about her, but something there was that sot him thinking. Many men, perhaps, would not have noticed this; but Esrio Stewart* as has been said, had, in addition to his worldly experience, the fineness of perception that belongs rather to a woman. Mrs Davenant was not a mere vapid woman of the «vorld; she was clever, and she talked well, and Stewart listened, and talked too, and no one could have supposed how impatiently his pulses were throbbing while he watched and waited for Claude Verner to appear. Presently the door opened aud the girl came in. How exquisite she looked in the picturesque cream and terra-co'.ta gown she wore! A sickening sense of his own desperate folly in so courting temptation rushed into Stewart's heart as be rose to greet the newcomer; but when he took her hind and bent over it she only accepted the greeting—how should she do otherwise? — at its overt value; one to .whioh she, with her continental experience, was accustomed. She could have no idea of the passionate homage the simple action veiled—of the longing in the man's heart to clasp not only her hand in his, but herself to his breast, and kiss the lips that smiled so pleasantly in his face. "Well, Miss Verner," he said, "have you been to any more harrowing melodramas since 1 had the pleasure of seeing you?" "There have been only two nights to go in," replied Claude, shaking her curly head, "and I haven't, been to a melodrama on either of tbem. The night before last I went to the Franoais, and last night I was at home." "i wish-1 had been with you at the Franoais," said the soldier, gal lantly. "So do I," returned Claude, frankly; "for I was with two very stupid people who were English, and made me translate the speeches for them, so that i had nothing else to do." "Ah,' said he, taking the vacant chair beside her as she sat down, "I am afraid I cannot lay any flattering unction to my soril. You only wanted me as preferable to particularly tiresome companions." Claude laughen merrily. "That means, you know," she answered, "that you are fishing for a compliment." "Well, it looks like it, I confess." "Then I will take pity on you and allow that I didn't ;mean to imply you were only preferable to stupid and tiresome companions." "Thanks; that is generous." Just then "Monsieur and Madame Belfort" were announced, aud proved to be an elderly couple, well-bred and pleasant people; and these, besides Captain Stewart, were the only guests. That astute soldier was not slow to see design in this arrangement which left him practically in sole possession of Claude, a fogy like Monsieur Belfort could not be sup. posed to dangle after a young girl, aud, if he did, would have no chance against a handsome, dashing fellow like Esric Stewart. There was Mrs Davenant for Monsieur Belfort and Madame Belfort for Mr Davenant, and Claude for the young officer. Well, he had no objection. The girl herself was no party to the intrigue; if he were willing to play into her guardian's hands, who was injured? Who? Why, he himself —his own honour, surely. And, perhaps, if he did not pull up in time, Cilaude. (To be Continued).