PRIMROSE DELORAINE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 1032, 12 August 1911, Page 2

PRIMROSE DELORAINE

uUR SERIAL.

J*"«rS DAUGHTER. ■ . .jIE pendennis. 3>'tU.i c. "Sir Reginald's ,'i«im," "The Forgotten Heir." "Rival Feautiw,' 'etc.

CHAPTER XXXlll—Continued

"Primrose," ho said—and even now his voicD sounded quite cool and calm though It was very, very tender—"don't you ,'eo with me' dear? Don t vou understand how I feel? While f was Captain Jack nothing seemed to matter except absolute wrong, -nd I always steered clear of that ac--ordiiig to my lights then. But now •.vhen I look back I think my lights j have changed since then, and perhaps If I had my time over again I might lo differently. I have been a mad fool.' sweetheart,'but a fool must pay for hir, folly, and I can't run away. Fm not Ca'otain Jack now—l am an Eyomleiie—tho last of the Eversdenes —and tho last of the Ever&denes isn't "•oiug to do what no Eversdene has -ver%lone. Dearest, don't think me solfoh and heartless, but even for my darlirg's sweet sake I can't show tho white feather." His arms closed round her tenderly, holding her nearer. He stooped and kis ed her very gently. "Tt was for your sake I left Australia," ho wont on, "and came back to the position I was born to; and, as I had been guilty of nothing worse than folly, T was mad enough to believe that Fate would let mo have my chance." Ho sighed, then laughed shortly. "Fate,' 'ho added, "evidently didn't, think me worth the/mance, and perhaps Fate was right. Who knows?"

from tho old, reckless, daring ones that had dominated his life; thoughts touched with a new nobility, a steadfast courage, a strong, unwavering endurance that seemed to exalt him. In that moment he was no longer the man whose life in the past had been a challenge to the Fates. Somo of the beauty of life, some of the beauty of death, had come to his soul then. But Primrose was only a woman, a woman who loved. She only clung the closer.

Yes, she was only a woman, longing, yearning to keep the dearest dearne&s that earth held for her, pleading for all her life's happiness. Already her beloved's thoughts had drifted upward above the earthly plane to the heavenly plane of immortal loves. But in her great sorrow her thoughts could not soar as yet above the loves of earth. "It may not be for long, our parting," he said dreamily, his eyes still fixed on the vision of things by her unseen, "and then, then, my heart, you will join me. I shall wait for you in the land beyond the stars." A wonderful light illumined the daredevil beauty of his strong, brown face. But the girl still.clung to him, closer still, with the desolate, pleading passion of despair.

He broke off again, and there was a long, long silence, disturbed only by the'.soft falling of the wood ashes on the hearth, the quivering, pulsing passion of Primrose's choking sobs. Poor Primrose! She heard the words lie spoke to her as in a dream, hardly understanding or realising their meaning. She was only a girl, and the man she loved was all the world to her, and in her tender heart there seemed to be room for only one thought—the thought that death itself, death—the dread shadow that lurks ever behind the scenes of life like a grim spectre at. the feasts-would rob. her of the .sweetness;'she had wjbnV close the; . strong, splendid manly life that was so dear to her.

"Oh, beloved, don't leave me," she entreated. "Don't leave me or I shall die. Go, and take me with you. You are the life of my life; I have no life apart from you. Together we will go out and find a new world where our lovo shall blot out the shadows of the, past. Don't go from me into the shadows, my dear, my only dearest. Live for love and forme. I, the woman who loves you more than a woman ever loved a man before, bid yoxi to live for love's sweet sake. Ah! go beloved. Take me with you. Save yourself."

She tried to face it, to bear it; but she could not. She could think of nothing but the love that was lost to her forever, the glory of what might have been; the vision of those dear eyes closed, thbse dear arms motionless in death—a shameful death. "Oh! to think of it," she cried, her faco all wild and distraught, "think of it all! Think how you would go away from me, away out of the glowing sunshine., and out of the thinking, feeling, living present, that might have held the magic of heaven for lis, into tho gloom—the unknown and terrible gloom. I can't bear it. Oh! I can't bear it. I "

"Hush!" he broke in tensely.. "Oh, my darling, hush! Don't you know that life just now is sweet to me, so full of hope, that you need not bid me cherish it if thing might have been ? But it can't be; it can't."' He drew himself up to full height, and looked over her sunny head, and away through the uncurtained wind ows into the black and silver night hat hovered like a great, dusky .moth over the sleeping earth. His, face, as she saw it then, was set,'tense and rigid. His mouth looked like an irou band. And she threw up\&ef; .arms, her slender white arms, witijS-'a bitter, bitter cry. . ' "Oh! for my sake, if only for my sake, Jack! If you won't think of yourself, think of me. Ah! think of me, beloved. Think what my life would be if you were taken from me. Think of the long days that would pass so slowly. Think of the endless years. And I am so young, my dear one. Must I live out all my life with neither hopes nor fears." Her hands were clinging round his neck now, soft, tender, frail loving woman's hands that would fain have held him forever—and the touch of the satin skin sent the blood coursing through his veins at fever heat, for it awoke all the memories that bo had been striving to; crush down, awoke them to a stronger, more vivid, psw • sipnatfr life than they, had tever'known ;'.V,..:■';''>-''"' ; -'''"T;: i:; '.'i!V--".. "r *'".'' ■ ' His heart was throbbing madly, but ho answered her quietly and calmly. "Little one; ah! little one," he sail. "If love were only to make us true and tender, and to weaken us for the strife of the world, the strife that comes to each and all of us, then our love would be a poor thing. But that isn't what love is for, Primrose; the real love of a man for a woman, and a woman for a man. Real love is to make us braver, stronger, either for life, or death. Oh, my dear, if only I could bear your part of the sorrow how gladly I would go to meet it! But one can only bear one part. Oh! little girl, you will forgive me for all the sadness that I have* brought you ; yes, you will forgive me, I know, when I have gone to —the unknown gloom. Ah J dearest, dearest, if. fate had been kind t would have loved you with all my life's devotion, I would have cherished and guarded you. But'now— Heaven keep you instead." His eyes sought the starlit sky for a moment. He laid his hand lightly on her head Avith a touch that was awesmoein its solemn tenderness. Al-

Her arms wreathed themselves around his neck, warm, bare, scented arms, whose clinging softness set his soul on fire. Her tender lips touched his in tender kisses, whose living sweetness macle his senses reel. The maddening nearness of her presence, 'delicately, delicibusly fragrant as her namesake flower ', swept ug to him in a, wave of delirious intoxication, going .to his "braiii like strong wine.

CHAPTER XXIV

ready jbhe shadow that lay upon him seemed to have drawn him a little n.way from the things of the earth. Already thoughts other than his ordinary, everyday thoughts were coming to him, crowding into his mind thick and fast —thoughts strangely removed

THE SWORD FALLS

" And; as hei* words' stole" softly up to him on the electric stillness, his mind flashed back from the immortal dream world on which it had centred and touched earth once more. In a blinding flash it all came to him again. lAll the wonderful, throbbing, glorious reality of life, the transcending immeasurable happiness, the marvellous sweet, unequalled possibilities it would hold for him if only ho had yielded to her, and gone to save himself. Like the whirl of a mighty wave the delirious thought rolled over his soul an'] swept the very foundations of his nature. He was only human, only a man who loved, in spite of his iron strength, his unswerving resoluteness, and he had never realised his humanity, all the living, throbbing forces within him, as he did at that moment. The passionately through his veins, the joy of living was strong within him. Ah! sweet life; sweet life. How very sweet it was. How inexpressibly eious. Life that held the touch of warm, living woman's hands, warm, loving kisses form tender, living woman's lips. He shivered, and closed his eyes for a moment as he thought of it all. , Then he turned to the stricken girl. and perhaps the beauty and strength

]of his character had never shown so plainly as in that agonising moment of supreme renunciation. Clesely he held her to him in his strong arms. Long his lips pressed hers in tender, passionate kisses that seemed as if they could never end. And as they stood there for tke second time all at once a low. ominous growl sounded.as the great Dane rose swiftly to its feet. Once more there was a sound at the window. And Primrose wailed out with an exceedingly bitter cry: "Too ]ote! Ah! dear Heaven, too late! T-( V !a*e,!"..- . / .

The open French window was flung wide, and a woman wrapped in a long, gray, fur motor coat.came into the room, and, following (her, * four me£— Sir, Gerard Le'sbie ' and three others. And at the sight Lord Eversdene put Primrose gently away from him, drew himself, erect, and* folded arms. "The play," he remarked coolly, "has reached the climax. You are now going to see the end of it, Primrose —a bitter end for you I'm afraid, my sweet." He looked at the men who paused just inside the window. "Well," he. said, "I quite expected you, and I'm quite ready.. Would you like to start at once, or will you have a whisky and soda and some sandwiches before we go? I don't think I did expect you, though, Lesbie. but I am awfully glad to see you all the same."' {To be Continued).