A SENSATIONAL CASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3000, 24 September 1908, Page 2

A SENSATIONAL CASE.

CHAPTER XXXlll.—Continued. A3 soon as she was left alone with the maid, Netelka, instead of lying down as her husband had directed, changed her travelling-dress for a tea-gown, had her hair done, and walked across the room to the door. The maid protested, urged Mr Hillli - ard's wishes; but Netelka, from being the passive creature who could not resist her husband's will, had become the mistress whose will no servant could withstand. "You can tell Mr Hilliard, if he asks for me, that I have gone down to the drawing-room," she said carelessly. She walked downstairs in a strange frame of mind, feeling the walls and the banisters, as if asking herself whether they were real, or whether the gleaming lines of sunlight which interlaced each other on the floor and the walls of the hall, and the scent of the flowers as the afternoon breeze bore it in from the conservatory, and tho faintly heard notes of the piano as a hand ran lightly over them, were' not part of a dream in which she walked as a disembodied spirit might walk, floating on the air rather than treading on the ground. Unsteadily her hand felt for the handle of the drawing-room door. She remembered that a week ago she had lain, as she thought, dying, and had remembered such an afternoon as this at "The Firs," and had wondered, whether her spirit would come back to the place when she was dead. |And so it happened that when she stood in the drawing-room, in her loose gown of cream-coloured chiffon, with pearls in the lace at her throat, and a starlilce diamond shining in the fading sunlight on one of her fingers, ■Gerard, although, he had known that she was in the house, started up and .siood before her without speaking, perceiving that there was in her some great change. "Gerard!" said she in a low voice, doubtfully; "Gerard!" Then she smiled; but it was a weird smile, in. which there was something which frightened him. He put his hands hastily to touch hers, as if he must assure himseif without delay that she was really breathing and alive. . "Thank God! thank God!" whispered he, in a breaking voice, "that I can see you again! I thought—l I thought? oh!" a shiver passed over j him, and Netelka perceived by thu j touch of his hands that he was deadly cold—"I don't want to remember it. i Come, come to the light, my—my darling!" J For a moment Netelka took no more notice of this last word than it' I it had been a term of endearment i which he had ever addressed to her * before had been the half-playful "my dear Mrs Hilliard" of every-day life. She let him lead her to one of the open French windows, where a clem-atis-bush was just bursting from bud into flower, and a cluster of darna?k rose-trees filled the air with delicate fragrance. He was still holding her hand and looking into her face with a wistful eagerness which betrayed that he too had passed through some strange experience since their j eyes had last met. j In her turn Netelka shivered, and a heart-broken sigh came from her lips. "What are vou saying? You mustn't talk like that," she said.suddenly, withdrawing her hand, but without a blush. There was no resentment, no prudery in her tone; she uttered the words merhanically, as if repsating a lesson. Gerard leaned against the window-frame. As he looked away from her, startled by the swinging of a bough under tt e fl.ght of a bird, Netelka caught a new view of his face, and as she did so she let a cry escape her lips. "Wliat is it? You are ill! Sit down; hold my arm; let me hold you —so."

As he spoke, Gerard had sprung forward, and, 'supporting her gently, made her sit on one of the cushioned seats which were fitted into the recedes of tin window. "I-am not ill," she answered, in a hoarse voice. "At least, I am not so ill as 1 have bean, and—as you have been. Tell me, what hus been the matter with you? Is it true, es Hugh Tftorndyke says, that—that Linley tried to poison you?" Gerard stared at her in astonhhment, which quickly gave place to doubt. "Idon't know. I don't think so," answered he quietly. "I went out with him and got caught in the rain." "Ah!" exclaimed she in a tone full of fear. She knew that Gerard's delicacy was well' known to her husband,, and, with her mind attuned to euspicion, she guessed the truth, although she would scarcely own it even to herself. Gerard kept his eyes fixed upon her face which he read as easily as if it were an open book. The history of the past few weeks during which she had been away he seemed to read in her mournful eyes, in the deeper lines about her mouth. She turned suddenly toward him, and their eyes met. "You mtut iro away from here — at once," she J'You are nof safe heie!"' "And—you?" As he spoke, he dropped into the seat beside her and leaned back against ihe wall, so t ! iat his own face might be <;uc of 1m r range of * vision, for he could l.ot trust his quivering muscles not to betray the agitation from which he w»3 suffering. Netelka started, changed her position. moving a little away from him aa if in carelessness, though she also betrayed more than she wished. "Oh, that is different. I—l am his wife; he haa to take care of me; he

By FLORENCE WARDEN. Author of" The Lady in Black," "An Infamous Fraud," "For Love of Jack," "A Terrible Family," "The House on tlie Marsh,"

She broke down, and covering her face with her handfa, burst into tears and sobs so violent, so unrestrained that Gerard, who had never seen her give way like this before, was alarmed beyond measure. But he did not make any great attempt to soothe her; he did not touch the quivering hand which lay within his reach; he dared not. , After listening for a few moments to her heart-broken sobs, he sprang up and walked rapidly up the room. To Netelka, miserable, despairing, it seemed as if her best friend were deserting her. He heard her pause in the midst of her sobs, and, turning, he saw her poor tear-stained face wearing an expression of desolation which touched him to the quick. "Oh, are you going now —like that? Gerard, Gerard! Don't leave me here! He will kill me if you do! Take me —take me with you, Gerard!" Then her head sank down, and she threw herself among the cushions in an agony of shame and grief. There was a long pause. Netelka, who sobbed on without looking up, thought that Gerard had left her alone. It was not until she had wept herself into a state of exhaustion that she raised herself and perceived that Gerard was sitting at a table at a little distance, with hia head buried in his hands. 'He did rot move, and for a few minutes Netelka sat staring at his bent head with eyes so dim and swollen after her tears that she seemed to see two or three curly heads dancing before tliem. "Gerard!" she cried at last in a low voice, very diffidently. Gerard raised his head and looked at her, but did not rise from his chair. "Did you—did you hear what I said—just now?" Then he got up and walked to the window without looking at her, as if nothing out of the common had happened. ' Netelka watched him, in bewilderment. "Did you hear what I said, Gerard?" But he pulled the blind down a little way and then pulled it up again, as if very anxious to get it perfectly straight. Meantime he an- 1 swered very deliberately: "No, Mrs Milliard. I didn't hear you siy anything. And I don't want you to say anything until you're quite yourself again. Talking isn't any better for you than crying; and as I care for you mori than for anyone else in the world, I mustn't let you talk and 1 mustn't let you cry. So please, Mrs Milliard, don't do either, but listen to me." But Netelka started up, stung to the quick. She ran the length of the room so quickly that Gerard could not stop her; and he had not got farther in his rapid pursuit of her than the middle of the room when he suddenly saw her stagger back from the door, with a loud cry. (To be continued.)