TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10436, 29 September 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER XXl.—Continued

"How dare you say &o ?" she cried. Her movement was' as* though she would have struck the lazily smiling handsome face. He'caught her upraised hand and held it. For a moment they looked at each other, and his face became almost 'as whit© as hers. Then lie bowed his head and kissed her fingers before he let them go.

"Surely you will allow that I have echoed your words?" he said gently. ' "Anid more—if you do me the honor io recall that first private interview of ours, you must rememibeir that you told me so yourself." "Told you?" she exclaimed. "Yes, I did tell you. And why? Because I knew that in her simplicity, in her utter trust in you, she had betrayed herself, and that you knew she loved you. Slli© had no thought of lading her heart; -she <was. too honest, too true. She had told me, <and I,had .seen it in her face, that it would kill (her' to he -separated from yoiv. Her Hovi© is ©visl-ything to her." .'. ;. It was sheer physical weakness 1 that made.'her totter-; she sank into the chair which she had refused heifore, N dropping her head upon her arm..

Sir Derek stood looking down at iher, smiling again now, and his face Qiiad a fierce exultation and admiration in it. His voice skewed no •change in its musically pleasant drawl—it never did change to harshr ness unless he was out of temper, and he was in excellent good humor now.

"■There are two sides to every question," he said. "Will you allow tmie; now that; you -have put yours, to put man©?" "What do -you mean?" Her tome was faint and hoarse; she did not stir. ','.'■

"I will explain in a moment. That first private interview of ours was held, you may remember, when I first had the pleasure of discovering that Sir Bernard had out me out of his will." . "Yes."

"You will recollect that in speaking of dare 1 said it was utterly impossible for me, with my ideas and habits— hoik ratlier extravagant I'm afraid—jfco> mairry a poor woman in circuimistances iso outrageously air tered. And in justice to her, I added that she, with her ideas and habit®, "would probably be utterly wretched if married to a poor man. You refused to believe that, I member, «nd tried to show thai I was wrong, but I can't Bay thai you shook may belief. You remember ?" "Yes. Well?"

, "I am hound to say that my oipinion lias not altered since. Before I asked dare to marry one; I\s3M>iu]d, ia, justice-(fcoifoer, ;l£ke <to :feel more confident- of the future than I am able ,to feel now."

"More confident?" She. looked up now, her expression one of perplexed surprise. "What do you mean?" .she aisiked. "I don't undersfcaaid you." , "No? I 'bag your pardon., t should have put it more plainly. I should like ito feel tSiait I am safe." "Safe?" sihe echoed bewilderedly. "Exactly. At present- my position! is lalll that I could desire. lam a, rich main, I am the master of ißedbourne, but dn the event of that confounded turning up again—" "The wall?" ,she cried.

'"Surely the possibility of its not (being destroyed ha& occurred to you?" ■,..,_ .:■ * ■ : .'.-■■•■

, "No, no!" fill)© Dried- hurriedly. "Not (that. *. Dofli't think it for Oare's so-ke. ~ It:is destroyed." '.' " : 'f" "" "■■■ ','■

"Yes, I ha.ve always, thought so*. Do you 1 " think the thief -would keep it—would run such a risk as that?. I am iswre it is destroyed—burned ■mostlilcely, long ago." She had risen/ now; her eyes -were .ahining, her expression, was eager. His eyes brightened as he. met her look, .and lie moved near to her. "You think I lam quite safe, tren,?" he said slo.viy -That I need fear nothing ' ' "1. am sure you need net • the** can. be no fear." "You* believe I shall be able to make imy wife mistress of Bedbourne.?" .

"Ye®," yes! Is that what has kept yoU fear;.; of .■ ithat? . vK such a tiling'did happen — '■ if you Wefce poor ito-morrow, Clare would not care."

11 "Clare!" Has voice, slurring upon the maime with an impatient contempt, rose into a laugh; ihe caught her (hands, (gripping them. "What is Claire to me? Nothing, and never lias ibeen! When do I mean to marry her? I never have meant to marry her If you were not blind—at is .because you hate me>, perhaps— you

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

By CARL SWERDNA, Author of "A Mere Ceremony."

■would know that I. love you." Lorraine, did not answer, did not struggle, did not even try to withdraw' her hands; it was as though hi.3 words had struck the life out of her She stood like a. statue. He hurried on eagerly, vehemently; his passion was real enough, the strongest, most genuine feeling which had ever dominated him—the stronger that it had. always been, denied the faintest outlet and was- of the kind that had. fed and grown more intense, upon flier hate. "JJorraine, I love you! You thought it was Clare who took me to Hedhourne? Bah! It was you, always you! To make love to her was the best and easiest way of getting near you, and I took it. I would fling Rediboiurne and everything else into the isea ito-morrow to get you for my wife." He laughed. "Oh, I know you> hate, me! Well, do bo, it make® no difference. I'd, sooner have your hate, bio that I got you. ■with at, than the love of any other M'oman I ever knew or saw!" ; His arms were round (her; 'he would have kissed her, hut with a shriek and a violent' exertion of her j whole (Strength she thrust him from I her land .sprang away. She uttered no word, (but the 'horror, rage, and loathing with which she looked at hiji] needed no voice. "Htow handsome you are!" he. exclaimed. "You may hate me as much as you like while At makes you look dike that. I'll wait for that kiss, my ibeaaitiful fury, land I shall have it. You "wiE ibe more amiable when I see you next, perhaps. At any rate, I'hope* you will. I've a last word to sav .to vou hefore I go." He tent (his head and whispered, close, tat her ear, a sentence of a few words, howed in his ibest manner, and turned to tile door. Glancing (back as he passed it, he sa.w her standing exactly in the same attitude, white, irigid, and still. Sir Derek smiled as he passed the door; he was in. excellent good humour.

"Three wo mien in on© 'house!" he said, w.itih a smile, as- he took his hat "(Really a comfbination • wilittich •would tax the resources of imost men, I thank. Well, the mistress does mot Matter; the. .maid is judiciously soothed—an .amusing coinoidence. tihat' she should have burst in upon mie to-clay, by <tibe ■way— and I Saney that for the present I (have paired my sweet tigress.' ehvws pretty effectively. Yes, without self flattery, I imay a-eally congratulate, my- ; self upon having (managed a. difficult j situation 'uncommonly well." A few minutes later, Glare, tired ! of 'waiting upstairs for her foster sisI iter's return, cautiously opened the I drawing room door and peeped in. I Seeing the erect, motionless, figure, shle lajdvanced quickly.,.

"Oli, yon dr© aloriie, darling? I was'iailniiosifc afraid nsome one els© must have called lasyou didn't com© upstairs. lem't it tiresome? I can't find Alethea anywhere, and Brutoh isays-isfole is almost sure she went out directly adfter Derek came. It is too load 1 I shall have to tell iher she arauat really—:—" Coing <neajper, she, saw the other's face.

"Oil, wliajt is it, Lorraine? Are you ill, dearest? All!" Clare screaked. In trying slowly to turn toward'her, Lorraine swayed forward, dropped, and Jay insejisible at her feet. (To be Continued.)