For Honour's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 7960, 10 February 1906, Page 2

For Honour's Sake.

("CHAPTER XXV.-Continued. "Claude," he said, "let your own 'heart plead for. me. My life is in your hands; it is all broken and shattered without jou! If we must part now—if we must never riiee 1 ; . again—-" He stopped ; his voice broke; he could only press bis lips in agoniz : ing appeal on her brow; and then, aa she geutly strove to free herself lie released her and turned away. Think! How could sbe think? How could she weigh h< the soale9 the balance of right and wrong? With burning brain and thiobbing heart, how could she reasou? flow , know anything but that this man loved her— cast himself on her mercy? Were not his arms still around her, his kiss ou her lips? She was no angel, but a woman; and she loved him with all her strength. Sbe hid her face in the cushion, in .frantic striving. Oh, what was the proper course to pursue? Heaven help ber to do the right—not lor her flake, but for his. Was there no halting place for him between despair, -. utter shipwreck, and love that was a daily peril? None! And this love Avasnotsin! And, oh! that tei»ble cry, that was in itself almost'de.spair: "I must have your love! Don't cast me back on myself." No, no; there was no other way to isavebim! .Let temptation cometbeß. Heaven give them strength to conquer! But sbe, who loved him, to thrush him into darkness because there was peril of sin; her lips that he had kissed with such passion of -worship, to condemn him to exile! Ah, nol no! he "had no more strength"; be clung to her now; the man was weak,the woman was strong. He had suffered all a man can suffer, and be flung himself at the feet of this stripling girl, and cried to her, as the tortured plead for nity, the dying for life: "Give me love! Give mo love! There i 9 nothing elso that cau save me!" She sprang to her feet, with his name on her lips, in a passionate whisper; and he, standing in his old place by the piano, turned to her and opened his arms. She threw herself on to his breast, clinging about his neck, and for minutes they stood c s", in close embraceheart to heart'; no word, scarce , it seemed, a breath. Was even the heaven of that first kiss like this heaven—steeped in pain, if you will; but glory of love and worship, love divine to save; mighty in faith? And presently Oapiain Stewart sat down and drew Claude to his feet, folding her to his breast. "Hearts dearest!" be whispered tremulously "My love, my saint!" "And so are ycu to me!" she said lifting her face' to his. He bent to press his lips on hers, but'paused, a sudden shadow sweeping over his features, and locked Into her eyes with such wistful searching in his gaze tnat she held her bieath in troubled wonder. ' "Ah, lam no saint to ycu!" be said, softly, but with a strange bitterness of self-reproach. ."Only a man who loves you with all his soul; yet loves you cruelly, too! If we had not met again, dearest; if 1 had not won your heart " "Esrio. Ah, don't! don't ["Claude interrupted, with a quick sob, and hid her face against him again. He felt the faster beating of her heart, the hurried,, irregular breathing, and sbe seemed to make an effort to speak, but oould not. "Forgive me," he said, tenderly; "I did not mean to wound you; but that is not all, is it? Open your heart to me, darling; there should he nothing hidden between us." "No, no, Esrio," the girl aaid, under her breath. "1— should never have loved anyone but you. I did not know; but since that time in Paris 1 think you were always in my heart " "Go on !" he said, as she paused hia voice low and trembling. "Oh, am 1 so blessed? Dearest tell me all." "I always seemed to hear," she went on, still faltering, "what you said that last night when you left me, and when, I knew you would never come again it was like a house where there is some one dead." "If I had known tben!" said Stewart, brokenly, "if I had only known!" "But I did not understand," said Claude. "Even when you were in j India, and I always looked for your name, every day, I did not know clearly why I did it." How the man's thoughts flashed back to those terrible nights and days when bis soul had swooned with tho pain of hopeless longing! Yet was it not better for bim that he did uot kuow her heart was with him? He bowed his head on hers. He could not speak; be was quieering like a girl. And she, too, was silent, only clinging to him; and so, at last he grew calmer. , "Oh, I am in ecstacy,"he said unsteadily, "to know that you have always lotfed me, dearest! It is too much. ' Sometimes the hope flashed across me— I tried to crush it. It .was cruel, selfish—" He stopped,- exhausted by the stress of intense emotion "Not cruel, not selfish!" the girl whispered, lifting her face, and pressing her soft cheek to his. "It was always stranEe happiness to ire, even when I could not understand; ' and last Thursday"—she hid her / face from him again—"then I know—" But ne cently drew her head back on hia breast, and his lips pressed hers with kisses that gave and took all passion, all sw9etness, of love strengthened and yet purified by its very suffering; love from wbioh even sin would not have blotted out ail tbe hues of heaven. But could ever Esrio Stewart forget that his honour held this woman's soul in trust? Well bo knew that, though she loved him, ehe cou!d bear to be an exile from him for ever rather than he should stoop to dishonour.

By Bertha I. Clay. JLuthor of " Wife in Name Only," if Wedded and. Parted," "Dora Thome," "A Queen Amona Women," "A True Maadalene," etc., etc.,

Such love is conseoration; its place becomes a sanctuary where athwart human passion must ever flash the rays of heaven's light; where the woman loved roust be ever the worshipped saint; where temptation, lifting for a moment a destroying band, must the next fall prostrate before a shrino. The horror, the agony of last night seemed to fade from Esrio Stewart's brain like a sickly dream as he held to his heart the woman who was his own henceforth ia a union of heart and will and spotless faith. Might his neart cease to beat rather than cherish a thought of treason! Might his soul, he prayed, live always in the purer light of hers, that if the demon . of temptation oaine to him again he might have strength to conquer. (To be Continued).