For Honor's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 7959, 9 February 1906, Page 2

For Honor's Sake.

CHAPTER Xlll.—Continued. "I did not see them, and I don't think I regret so very much having missed then'. Will you forgive me for saying that?" "Oh, yea," said Ciaude, carelessly, with her French shrug; and seating herself' on a couch, she added, glancing at hi in as he paused, a few feet away, leaning on the piano —she bad not once dared to look him full in thoface: "Bo your friend Major Langdale is in England? Your wife told us so on Saturday, wheu she called." Was she only talking to avoid perilous silence? Or was there are minder to him in that allusion to his wife? He was scarcely in the mood to accept such a reminder. He was maddened and tortured and there was no soothing for him save in the love of this woman who bade him lemeniber that barrier between them. His cheek flushed, be set his teeth, •still curbing the passion that sent the blood leaping like lire through all bis veins. "Yes," he said, quietly, almost indifferently, as people utter these commonplaces of society, "Pauline told me she had called. How did you and she get on together?" j There was a kind of grim humour in the situation which Stewart was exactly in the mood to catch. A man is never so near a keen perception of the ironies of life as when be ] is filled with the knowledge of its I tragedies, torn by its deepest and strongest emotions. He even smiled as be put Jthat strange question to the woman he loved concerning the wife he would have hated, could hatred live with contempt; and Claude was quick to perceive the note of sarcasm in Stewart's voice and manner; but i'; pained aud puzzled her. She was too young, with all her somewhat unusual experience of life, to understand fully the phase of human nature to which it belonged. Her swift, wistful look went to the man's heart like a stab; he drew in his breath sharply. How long could the tension last? "She was very kind," Claude said after a moment's pause; and then stopped, with a painful sense of not having spoken truly. But what was she to say? "Ah! now you are conventional, and that is not usually a fault of yours," ho said. "Weil, I suppose there was no help for it. What! you are wounded offended?" For Claude had turned her face away*. He went and threw himself down by her on the couch. "No," as she shook her hend. "Then, what is it?" his voice sinking to thecaressing softness that made her tremble from bead to foot. "Only perplexity, or something more?" "1 don'tknow," the girl faltered, her face still half averted. "I don't think I could explain. It was not what you said." "But the manner of saying it? \V«:ll, how should you understand i the mood that made me speak so? I <3on't understand it myself. 1 only j know that I am in desperate need!" His band sought hers that lay on her knee, and clasped it in close, oonvulsive clasp. The blood rushed over the girl's face; instinctively she made an effort to rise, to free herself; but Stewart's band held hers fast. He sank on bis knee beside her, such passion in his dark eyes, in his quivering voice, that her heart stood still with ecstasy,' with the very 'agony of fear. "Claude," he said, hoarsely, "only you can save me! There is no other help. I have striven so long, and I can strive no more! Oh, turn to me! Give roe your love _„" "Captain Stewart!" It was scarcely a whisper that fell from the white lips, but the pain, the anguish, made his senses reel. Ah, the cruel stab of bis wild words! How else should she read them but as dishonour? . "No, no!" he cried, passionately; "Not shame! You wrong me! 1 was mad! What have I said? Claude, for the love of Heaven, look up! Forgive me, my darling i I mennt no wrong to youi" "Ah, thank Heaven i" It fell from her in almost a 90b. She turned to him, claoping her free hand over his, all her soul in tho eyes that met his. "I did not condemn you," she said, and the her eyes drooped, the flush on her oheek deepened; "tut it grieved me so. Oh, how can I help you? What can .[ do? Thero is only one way —we must not see each . other againi" But Captain Stewart flung his arms about her and pressed her close to his heart, bowing his head on her breast, shaken with agony that only such passion and such suffering as his could Know. "I cannot leave youi" he said. His voice was hoarse and broken; be drew bis breath in quick, painful grasps; his words came in disjointed sentences. "I cannot— have no more strength need your strength! I must have your love! Don't cast me batik on myßoif, Claude!" Ho tried to speak more calmly as he felt the dear hands on his head pressing it yet closer to ber heart, that throbbed so heavily beneath the pressure. "But for you 1 must long ago have flung all honour to the winds. You know that it was not lor love I married. It was for honour's sake—l thought iny honour bound me. It was my impression that ' I had., unwittingly ■won the woman's love. I met you—you remember that night?—and in the first hour I loved you!" Closer yo"; he pressed her tb him, as he felt the quiver that went through her at those words. "Dearest, you now 1 know why I left you su abruptly. Had i seen you again, I must have thrown myself at your feet! I went to Pauline. I stooped to the shame of asking; her to give me back my freedom. 1 confessed that 1 bad given my love, and she—You know what her answer was, Claude?" "Esric, Esric," the girl whis-

By Bertha M. Clay. Author of " Wife in Name Only," " Wedded and Parted," "Dora Thome," " A Queen Among Women," " A True Magdalene," etc., etc.,

pered, "no shame was yours, but hera that oould deny the prayer!" "Mad fool was I," lie said, with ineffable bitterness, "that 1 did not, with my own bands, snap the chain that bound me! Claude!—heart's dearest!—l have been true to you; loyal aud faithful lover all this terrible time of parting! I have striven, —oh, Heaven knows!—and I had strength at least not to seek yon! I sought for death aud even death was denied me! I came home; my. wife gave me not even welcome! I heard that you were in London!" He paused, lifting his head a ilttle. "Oh, my love! my love!" he whispered. "Forgive me! I was cruel to you! How could 1 keen from your side?" "Ob, no—no; not cruel!" She drew his head back to its old place on her breast again. "Ob," she said, quiveriugly, "I am happier in your love, with all its pain to us. both, than in any other love that heart oould dream of!" "Claude! My darling!" He drew hear face to bis, laying nia lip 9 to hers in long, clinging kisses that poured out into her in. nermoai; being all pasjion, all worship, all reverence of his passion of lover, worship of devotee. In that long ecstasy was all won, all yielded? Could the woman's soul turn back to heaven to dull earth; shake off the golden chains of this dear captivity and be free to suffer? The girl moved at last, with a half sob, hid her face on Stewart's breaa*;. For a moment he held his breath, then he bent over her. (To be Continued).