AFTER RELEASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10607, 13 April 1912, Page 2

AFTER RELEASE.

OUR SERIAL.

By VIOLET M. FUNN, Author of "Tho Master Passion, "What Shall It Profit?" "Verona." "By Devious Paths," Etc.

CHAPTER XlX—Continued. "Not listen? Why not? What reason is there why yon slvould not hear me? 1 don't suppose that it is likely that you can ca.ro for me as I care for you. After all, you are only a girl with a life before you, and I am your senior in years and wisdom. But, my dear" —ho stretched out his hand over the table, .and his voice grew low and caressingly tender —"won't you trust mo and let me teach you to love me just a little?" "I—l am not free!" slio stammered with white lips. "Xot free!' he repeated, and the words rendered him powerless to say more. He expected hesitation and reluctance, ho had told himself that her quiet dignity and shy reserve were among her principal charms, but Jio .Gsfl-i;*~t>i : expected* this overwhelming

blow. "You mean !'' ho said hoarsely, hoping against hope, "you think your friends, your grandmother, should bo consulted?" Hermione laughed—a dreary little laugh that had no mirth in it. ; "Grandmother-has already arranged ; my future. I am engaged to oe mar- • "And you never told me! lou let ; mo think-: " '. . ', At the sound of pain in his voic;; she raised her drooping head. "I did not knew—l never thought •you were—earing for me! I should * have told you, hut—but I was so happy that I forgot I was engaged." ; * He smiled in spite of his mortifica- i tion and disappointment that he was enduring, so naive, was her admission. He looked deep into the lovely eyes. < clear, childlike, yet with a new life moving weakly within them. Was it < —could it he that only now love was i awake within her heart, peering wist- ' fully through the eyes ? . "It-does not sound as if your engagement was a very willing one on- ■) your part." : ' y • "It has always been arranged; L have always known it. It was my , father's wish, and grandmother was | anxious that it should be earned out, j and I did not understand—l did not . know then!" She looked down at the j hands she was nervously twisting together. He leaned forward, liis eager gaze on her face, compelling her to raise her eyes to meet his. "Hermione, does that mean that—that you care for mo most?" "I—l don't know. I don't under- f stand! It is all so strange, so .unexpected. I don't understand mysclt, even " He could see she was trembling from head to foot. "But I gave him my word, and I —I have never broken'my word." , In her mind she could again see the big. handsome drawing room in Ludworth House, the little knot of rel- , atives round the big table, the spare form of her grandmother in the throno like chair at its head, Ludworth shaltamused, half-embarrassed face, l'lora s wide-opened eyes and simple nervousness, Tommy's pompous fussmess, and the old lawyer's urbane ingratiation. It had all been very formal and quite re«»nl in ceremony—the duchess loved to surround herself with a state thai would have befitted a court— and she had felt that she ivas only a pawn in her grandmotlser's hands, and that . it mattered to no one what Her feel- J incs might be. No. one had considered that she had any feelings at all. To marrv Ludworth was her destiny from the cradle, and she knew that while her grandmother had no doubt concerning her, she had found it necessary to negotiate the affair very delicately with her grandson. Easygoing as Ludworth was, Be was not tr> be driven by anyone, 'so he had taken some little comfort in the thought that iie really must have wanted to marry her. Ho had always been iund and good-natured; die might easily havo been bestowed upon a less equable man. But always she ho-l fcit that her marriage with him was her destiny, and she had accepted it as she accepted her life, -ftuth'stcttoal endur-woe and closely drawn reserve. But now—now all was so different 1 She did not kno.v if she were in love with-Rawardc or not; she only knew she could never accept her life with Ludworth in the same spirit as before. Out of the storm and stress of the last hour or two her true self had -been born, and with it Ludworth had nothing in common. "What —you—of all women, are to be bought and sold!" 'RawardO-said bitterly! "But, you do not tovo him, Hermione?" "No!" "And I could teach you to love me, as only you can love, Hermione. By Heaven, it is a wrong to let your life bo sacrificed to a hollow sham of duty and honour! It degrades you, it ;s even wrongfto him. For ho must lovo you!" "1 do not know." Her.miono spoke wearily; she felt strangely tired and : exhausted, as if she had been battling for 'hours against a current that threatened to overwhelm her. "Hi? has been very good to me. You must remember that it was a family arrangement." x "And nothing—not even, the knowledge that this man does not care for you as I do. that you do not care for iiim at all—will make you ibreak your word ?' Ra warde asked. She paled again. It may be that she was beginning to realise all that lay in her continuance of her hond, but in her eyes was the look that had been there when she had said that he could not contemplate his own happiness at

j another's cost. j "How could Ido it?" she asked I simply. 1 He emitted a sound like a groan. In her quietness he realised her strength of purpose. She was nut one of those who found the path of duty circuitous; it lay before her so straight and plain, and she could not question whether she could avoid it. She looked at Rawardo with eyes full of tender pity, and once she put her hand out as if to touch him, but she drew it (back again, and they sat in ■ white statuary dominated the scene j and the attendants moved noiselessly and spoko in whispers. He raised his head and looked at I her. | "Who is he?' he asked. j She hesitated for a rcciuwii. ShS ! had whollv Wo-o±i™-3A-^^r' '""' —i r —.-.„ uixat Kawarde was unconscious of her real identity, but she did not want to pain him further. "Ludworth — the Duke of Ludworth!'" "Ludworth!" There was incredulity in his voice, a strange astonishment in his face. Slio could aiot understand why he laughed loudly and mirthlessly. An ironic fate had certainly planned this consummation of the burden lie had been bearing for the past few weeks. To him the news seemed the climax to the situation. So Ludworth—this unknown Ludworth with whom he was so closely concerned, was his successful rival in all things. He had his name, his place, and now he had the girl he loved. Oh, lucky Ludworth! JHermione w|afcched his face wiith vague imeasiness. She could not understand his expression, hut in some way she felt alarmed. This man, so shaken out of his usual control, so strange and unreserved, was the one whom she knew. She felt almost thankful that at that moment an .attendant came to tell them the gal:lery v :closed Earlier,thau usual on that particular evening.- , / ; ? They did not speak a.s' they made their way to the entrance, but; when they had reached the 'bottom of the wide stairs, Hermione put out- her hand with eyes full of brimming tears. "Don't think ibadly of me!" she murmured.

He did not seem to hear her, and sho drove away in the hansom that the commissionaire called, forgetting her own; trouble in her fear of him. His chaffeur looked curiously after f him as Bawa-rdo tumbled into his motor. I "If ho was somo other man,' he said, "I would my he was drunk. He doesn't seem to know where he >

IS- . . e In truth, Rawarde was m a state or distraction. He had lost control of himself, and his 'better nature wa.s wholly overwhelmed in the agony of wrath and tho thirst for revenge that possessed him/' It was the first 'rebuff he KacTever known— the first time his desires had ever been checked. Not until he had lost Hermione did he realise how much he had .reckoned on having her. And it -was Ludworth who "had gained her. Black tanger 'grew up in his heart against this unknown rival. He would have left him in secure possesion of what was not 'his own, but he could not give Hermoine up as

easily. ..? ■ . It was fortunate in his condition ot overwrought nerves and strained mind that he should find a letter from Bo-vill-waiting for him when lie got do his home. It was a very diplomatic letter that had .been written with the idea of "touching! him up" a bit, and it succeeded admirably in its purpose, arriving at the critical juncture, xesj Bovill was right. Only a fool wouid let such an opportunity pass unheeded ' Clearly Imdiworth was no more than Bovill had called him—a shallowpated fool.! It was his duty to claim his own; he owed it to his parents'.; memory, he owed it to himself, he owed "it even to his "mother," so long i gulled and deceived, he owed it mo.s, of oil to Hermione, tricked .into aloveless marriage. ... : ' He put his hands to his aching head, as he rang the bell for his secretary.: He felt stupid and over-excited; ho was, he knew, perilously near a break-? I down, but ho would go to Lundon nrsc 1 and throw the bomb that would d;s!turh Ludworth's snug satisfaction. I "Look me out the early :rain to town, Hall!" he! said sharply. 1 want to go up to-morrow." I Mrs Rawarde expressed no .surprise when she heard of his intended jour- • ney. it happened often tnough to bo j regarded as a common occurrence. Her eyes were anxious though, and she lay I awake the greater -part of the. night Memories that she had sought to bury j deep rose again to confront her with the old terror and shame. It was as if the'evii davs had come «gaui—the •days when her heart was full of wild terror and horror, said suspicions became certainties, and she saw the golden, fabric she had so happily woven lie in tattered shreds at her feet. (To he continued.)