FIGHTING HER WAY.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9706, 31 January 1910, Page 2

FIGHTING HER WAY.

CHAPTER Vl.—Continued. In this last passionate burst she had flung herself on her knee by his side, and hiding her face on the arm of his chair, sobbed as if her heart were breaking. Here was a situation that, in his wildest dreams of improbable things, Koland Marlow had never picture*. Haughty, arrogant, purse-proud Gertrude Carrol at hi?, or any man s feet in tears. For an instant his breath stopped, and he sat gazing on her nerveless as an automaton, but a man's heart is always quickly moved by a woman's grief, and tears that flow as love s libation to himself are sacred, no matter from what eyes they fall, if he only half a man. • He was not slow in coming to the knowledge of what all this meant. Springing to his feet, he lifted her back into her chair, and pressing his own handkerchief over her convulsed face, he said earnestly: •Miss Carrol—Miss Gertrude, if you will—l entreat you, command yourself. What poor Jack may have told you I do nut care to know, but in his great sympathy he has grossly misrepresented the truth. My family are certainly quite poor, and this blow has hurt us all most terribly; but destitute they are not, and never will be while I live and keep my faculties. For your own sake and mine, banish the unnecessary concern you have so generously, but to me so painfully, expressed. Believe ma grateful for your sympathy, but help I do not need, and never will receive from anyone.' 'Do you then scorn my love, and cast it from you as a thing beneath your contempt?' she cried, with the violence of a child that has been refused some coveted pleasure. 'No. How unjust and unkind you are to me! Your affection shall be dear to me as my own sister's, and your wish to aid me far more valued than the deed; but I cannot allow you to traduce your womanhood by such wild words, my friend.- If indeed you care a little for me, forget they have been spoken.' His voice was low and very gentle, but so clear and firm that she could not mistake the implacable purpose that the words announced. Thelrage of a wounded tigress took hold on her passionate heart, and she felt she could wrest by force what he refused to her entreaty. 'Care a little!' she repeated,, as she reached up her arms and frantically clasped his neck. 'Ah! Roland, J care all! all! My life will be worse than nothing to me shared with you. I know you will me to marry you now: you are so proud, and would think it mean and unmanly to ask for your necessity, what you did not seek for your pleasure; but I spare your pride such a condescension. 1 ask--I entreat you to take i rne, with all I have! Give me ever so I little of your love in return, and it will amply reward me for this outrage I commit against n.yself and my position. Refuse me, and But, oh 2 I cannot—l will not—l dare not contemplate refusal! Speak to me, Roland—say I shall be your wife'! Had an avalanche swept over him he could not have been more stunned, or more incompetent to contend with its impetuous force. With this woman's arms clinging fast about his neck, her mad sobs shaking through him, her wild words reverberating through all the chambers of his manly soul, and her tears falling like hot rain on his breast he felt powerless even to move, far less to answer her frantic appeal. For one moment all was chaos in his brain, and that moment was fatal to his purpose that had not wavered by a hair's breadth through all this storm ot savage tenderness. His honor as well as his inclination forbade him to listen to her prayer. He little guessed that in the next instant his honour wouldcommand him to hold her on his breast forever. 'Excuse me,' said a harsh, mocking voice, breaking through the tempest of Gercrude's sobs. Roland wheeled quickly round to see standing on the threshold Hubert Defring, the man whom he had not a bitterer enemy in the world, because his shadow had fallen between N Derring and Gertrude Carrol's fortune. The girl had rejected this suitor in a manner to excite his most hatred and revenge; and now she stood before him utterly compromised unless the generosity of Roland Marlow were interposed to save her from the vile slanders they both knew Derrii g capable of spreading abroad.

CHAPTER VII. HOW KOLAND SOLVES THE QUESTiON. Short and sharp was the strife that Roland Marlow's heart waged with his cool, courageous sense of duty toward the woman whose reputation was thus placed at the mercy of a malicious devil like Hubert Derring, who had a double offense to avenge —first, against himself as the supposed cause of his defeat, and next

BY ROSE ASHLEIGH. Author of "Eleanor's Luck," "The Widow's Wager." "Pure Gold," Etc, eto.

against Gertrude, whose contempt had given him a deathless wound. How m ich or how little this villain had heard and seen of the stormy interview was of small consequence now. He had seen Gertrude sobbing in his rival's arms: that was enough, and to spare, for Derring's purpose, unless means were found to seal his venomous lips. Whith such a mein as the czar night use to his meanest serf, Roland turned on Derring, still holding the now terrified girl clone to him as he said: 'Excuse us for a few moments, Mr Derring. I have met with a great affliction, in which my affianced wife is lending me the consolation of her sympathy. We will join you directly in the drawing-room ' A deadly gleam of baffled malice shot from Derring's shifting eyes: but he knew it was now worth more than his life to breathe a syllable of disrespect concerning the woman Roland Marlow claimed the right to pro tect. He had lain in wait, like a thief or a detective, a long time tor such a golden opportunity, and he had fairly trembled with evil ecstasy as he stood on the street balcony watching and hearing all the details of this dramatic scene, out of which he hoped to wreak his revenge or marry the heiress. It was little wonder, then, that he slunk away like a beaten hound, in obedience to his rival's imperious words—in themselves a request, in their manner of utterance an order over which j lie dared not hesitate.

Roland remained silent until he heard Derring's steps pass out through the front door; then placing Gertrude's back in her chair, he stood before her with his arms folded and hia eyes bent on her compassionately. He said, in a subdued way that was almost solemn: 'Miss Carrol, circumstances too strong for my control have deprived me of the power to be magnanimous toward you in the way I had resolved on. 1 could not have taken a mean advantage of your thoughtless words, or your generous self-devotion, possess myself of the means to solve my difficulties in the manner you propsed. Neither could I permit you to be sacrificed to the unscrupulous malice of such a creature as Herbert Derring. Uod i« my witness that I would freely give my life to replace our relations on the footing they occupied an hour ago; but, since this -maynot be, I hold myself in honour and duty bound to regard your happiness as my sacred trust and to reward you as best I may for a love I did not seek, and, alas! do not reciprocate. Pardon me if the truth gives you pain; but I cannot add insult to injury by acting a lie. I will be to you always a friend and protector ; a lover—never! If, after this, you wish to adhere to the declaration [ made to Mr Derring, I am prepared to do so. If not, I shall find a safemeans to extricate you from the unfortunate position in which you are placed.' She made an attempt to speak, but became so hysterical that he said:

'Do not answer me now. Think oyer it all to-night; to-morruW I will hear your decision. Good-night.' He pressed her hand kindly, but not fondly, and left her weeping violently. A man may dry a woman's tears and soothe her pain with his love, but never with his mere endurance of her own.

Remembering that he had not yet received the mail that must have accumulated in bis office during his absence, after leaving the Carrol mansion, he hastened down town and went to the Bennett Building to take his letters from the drawer in this desk, where his office boy always deposited * them. In all the dreary trouble that nad come to him since the evenine in Miss Castlebar's store, Roland had quite forgotten the fact of his having brought the cactus of her, though more vivid with each Hour grew the memory of her lovely face and prayerful eyes. It was therefore with an electrical thrill that he beheld on his table the pot containing the full-blown cactus, and beside it a dainty little note addressed in a delicate, flowing hand. But his pleasure changed to sharp pain as he read the page on which she had hurriedly and nervously traced a statement of her illness, and the unhappy fate to which she found herstlf condemned. She closed it by reminding him of the promise he had exacted from her, i> id the request that he would do whatever was necessary in regard to her propertv in the flower store.

'Poor, beautiful child!' he exclaimed abud, as he stood with the litle note lying open in his hand. The paper was fine and creamy-hued as Christine's fresh cheek, and it exhaled a faint perfume that was like the odor of dried roses. TO BE CONTINUED