For Honour's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 7948, 25 January 1906, Page 2

For Honour's Sake.

The touch of that liltlo hand in his went like a flame through every nerve in his body; tljQ look of the sweet evos, her very presence, took 2us breath, seeuietl to make his senses reel. And she wns saving' in her rich, pathetic voice: "I am so glad to see you, Captain Stewart. How good of you to come!" "I think, rather, it is you who are good to give me such kind welcome,' 1 he said. Just euoh greetings as might have passed between two ordinary friends or acquaintances, and he spoke with the right amount of interest, and no more; he did not even hold her hand too oloaely, or too long. Well,-it was easy for her, aftor all; If her heart beat faster, if through all her being ran a strange, sweet quiver uf gladness, she was not actually conscious of this. She knew that she was very, very happy , to meet him again, and it went like a knife to her heart to see how the , shadow of pain in his face had deepened sicoe she-saw him in Paris; i but she did not know that the gladness lay "too deeofor her divining." . She did not know how sharp was i the stab; jbut he had to guard eye, ( and voice, and touch; he knew all the joy and all the agony of passion , that could never claim possession; i perhaps, had they been alone, all | the strength of iron will and long habits of self-control might not have i saved him from self-betrayal; but | they were not aloue, and so he was ; master. I "I dare say you know some of ] these people," said Claude; and j even as she spoke four or five came ] up, eager to claim acquaintance i with Captain Stewart; and as he was talking to a famous singer he had ( met in Italy, he saw a square-built, robust man, handsome in a certain heavy style, approach Claude, and ask her something, to which she responded by a careless refusal. Stewart bit his lip; his keen per- t ception saw something repellent in the man's face; something in hia manner, too, that he, Stewart, resented. Probably Claude saw it too, and thht was why she refused his request, whatever it was. He repeated it more earnestly, and again she refused, and this time tamed away, and threw herself on a couch near. A quick frown passed over the man's face; he hesi tated, seemed about to follow, when, at the moment, Stewart, with a few graceful words and a bow, tamed from the singer, and took the vacant place by Claude's side. He caught the angry flush on the man's face, the look of relief, and pleasure, too, on hers, and his heart throbbed the faster for the sweet knowledge that he was welcome for ( his own sake, not merely by comparison wtih a distasteful companion, "la not that Basil Tolemache who spoke to you just now?" he asked, "yes," said Claude. "Do you know him?" "By reputation, not otherwise; but 1 heard of him lately as haviag developed into a society man, and there seemed a harmonj between person and description." Claude laughed. There was a touoh of bitterness in the Jaush. had Seamed, evidently, new and lessons under Chris Davenants roof. "He trieH so hard," she said, 'to be a sooiety lion, but he always looks what he is-<-a country gentleman in masquerade." "He doesn't stand high in your favour?" said Stewart, quizzically. "I can't bear him!" replied the girl, uncompromisingly. "That is •why Jl never do anything that he asks me to do." "Unlucky Tollemache!" Stewart, softly. "I wonder if you know how cruel you are to him?" "What do you mean?" asked the girl, looking at him. He coutd have smiled at her naivete, but for the tremor that went through him; the look made him catch his breath;- it brought back to him that night in Paris when those violet eyes had first met his, it was the same cloudless gaze, the same childlike purity, only now • more wistful, and could be more searching. Mrs Davenaut was right. Claude had gained more worldly wisdom, but all the shocks of the life she led, all the homage she reoeived, had not changed her real nature. "What do you mean?" Stewart repeated, pulling his moustaohe, and looking down. "Don't you think any man is to be pitied who has earned your dislike?" "Oh! IB that it?" said the girl, laughing, though she coloured ' slightly. "I am sorry if he is made . unhappy, but 1 can't help . disliking him; and he is so uninteresting. He aßks me to sing, but he doesn't understand music a bit; and he talks so much about hunting and rural delights I believe be sends prize cattle to shows." "The last oEEence is rank, evidently," said Captain-Stewart, laughing. Clearly, he had no cause for jealousy of Basil Tollomacbe. "Was he asking you to sing just now?" "Ye 3." "1 wonder if I shall be more fortunate—but not just yet—that is, 1 want to talk with you now." "I will sing whenever you wish," said Claude, frankly. "I am so thankful. I see one or | two fellows looking rather black this j way," Stewart added, "but 1 thinJs I may usurp you for a little while after so long a separation." Did he make that—the first—allusion to their meeting two years ago, and the, to him, terrible interregnum, to test his powers of self-com-mand, or„waa it that strange love of daying with fire which seems interest in the more daring natures? He spoke without a tremor in his voioe, yet he felt and knew that, for him, thero was danger—the more because for lier there was none, and she might unwittingly torture him almost into seme eelf-betrayal.

By Bertha XllK. Clay. i Author of " Wife in Name Only," i( Wedded and Farted," "Dora Thame," "A Queen Among Women," " J. True Magdalene," etc., etc,,

CHAPTER XlV.—Continued

"It is very good of you," said Claude smiling, "to wish to 'usurp' me a your calLit; I don't object, you know," with her royuisb look. "I bopo not!" How was it he kept up the light tone and manner of baudage—schooled even ibis eyes that thoy should not express too much, when his heart was burning, all bis pulses throbbing. "1 hope not," be said, "hut, if you do, 1 will try to be unselfish, and yield you up." "Are you fishing for compliments, Captain Stewart? You would be very much surprised if I said, I Well,-I am rather bored; I'll go and talk to somebody else.' So the corollary is, I am to say something very pretty." "Honour bright," said be, "there is no rod and line in this case. You may prefer older or more valued friends without voting anyone a bore." He glanced as he spoke across the room to where Sir James Feltham was standing, looking decidedy glum. Claude's quick eye caught the glance, and stio c oloured slightly, divining his hilf-' ; med thought, but not the real motive of the question. "I have no old friends," she said, with a touch of bitterness in her toils, "go friends at ail; all these are only acquaintances." Captain Stewart set bis teeth, crushing down the words that rose to bis lips; instead, he said, and there was deep pain in his soft voice: "You are young and have learned the lesson that it is difficult for a beautiful woman to have friends. Forgive me," he added, as she turned aside a little, inwardly a little startled to feel so clearly that in "all these" she had not included him, whom she had seen but twice before. "I am rather forgntting, I am afraid, that 1 am as yet'only an acquaintance.' " (To bo Continued),