The Marriage of Felicity

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10628, 6 May 1912, Page 2

The Marriage of Felicity

OUR SERIAL.

BY ALAN ADAIR. Author of 'The Earl's Wife," "The iPlride of vMin, iMiddleham," "His Mier's Son.," "Bertram's iFolfly," etc.

CHAPTER I. London —in June —a hot sun sliming down on the parks, a blue sky affording a pleasant brackground to the newly decorated houses, crowds of smart women, in their pretty spring dresses, inen well-set up and jaunty of air, motors rushing hither and thither, very much to the annoyance of the prancing horses —all these made a scene that was exhiliarating to the spirits and pleasing to the eye of a lover of cities. A man walking briskly down the Row toward Kensington twirled his cane as he walked, and stopped occasionally to view his surroundings with evident delight. Ho was a young man, handsome in a manly and emphatic way. There was nothing weak about the sternness of the jaw, although a critic might have discovered signs of yielding in the corners; of a sensitive, flexible, if rather thin-lipped mouth. His gray eyes were shot with green, as gray eyes sometimes are—honest eyes —eyes that could look one in the face without wincing. He had a broad brow that 'v-ould have lieen a -little too high for beauty' if his brown, curly hair had not.grown over 1 his temples in, a somewhat attractive fashion. He was tallH—close upon six feet, and looked what he was, a clever, well-bred Englishman, a product of a public school and university who was not out of pl'ace in any society. lie walked quickly, as if intent on ieaching his destination, and as he passed a street leading riom the Row I a tall woman stepped forward to meet him. • i

"Isobel!' There was a world of gladness in his tone.

"You speak as if you did riot expect me!" she said, raising her dark eyes perfectly in keeping with icr face. They were large hrown , with dies and surmounted by. well-markdd eyegrows. Her luxuriant hair-,, silky in texture, had a natural wave, and was a beauty in itself'tbat would have made a plain woman attractive.But Isobel was altogether a handsome woman. She belonged to tjie great' cluass ,of untitled gentry, "among whom are the most beautiful women of the world

Her father, General Pelham-Hewett, had been dead many years; her mother several years his junior, was still a very youthful lookimg woman. Her elder sister, Beryl, a handsome woman, hut lacking Isobcl's rare beauty, had married a '.successful lawyer. "I never like to count too much on your unvarying kindness toward me, ' answered the young man. The girl laughed. "You might," she said. "How I love to hoar you laugh!" he exclaimed. "I do not know which gives me greater, pleasure, to look at you or listen to you. When I think of you, Isobel, it is impossible for me to I say whether I would sooner.lose m.v sight or my hearing if the choice had | to lie made." I '"Don't lose either, dear,' 'said the j girl, with a laugh. I think I like you j just as you are. Don't talk about be-

ing blind or deaf; you know we both dislike people who are maimed." "It is because you are so splendidly healthy, and so <l)eautiful|y perfect,"

lie asserted, as if to excuse a sentiment th;it did not sound .quite womanly—"not because you have not tbo tenderest heart in the world." 1 "I thought you mid I had made a cbtfoact not to play tho hypocrite wit.H each .other. "I have not th« tendorest heart xit the world, and you know it, Mark!" , VTo, looked a little disturbed. "Why do you say that? Do you mean to say that- you have ceased to earo lor me?" lie asked.-

Thercw as no one in sight, and she leaned toward him a little, ......

"You stupid,". she" said lightly. '"P ou 't ,;;«ir knmv that whoti a woman like me loves, she loves with an intensity that the ordinary woman knows nothing about." "Am I the fortunate whom you love, then?" i

Ho looked into her eves as he asked the question. Isobel hesitated for a moment.

| "Unfortunately you are," she answered.

The avowal had cost her something —she had not replied glibly; it had been wrung from her, but, having made it up, she held her head up very bravely. He looked at her for a. second, ami it was easy to understand why it was ]j Isobel loved him. He was strong, and * -she was a wojiian who loved strength. | "Why unfortunately:" he asked ;i | little sadly, I"Beeause you have neither fnps" nor position and I must lucre V £ "1 have no money to spesxk.'' said, and while he spoke °t>' ' ' lO her, and realised how tr r ' looked at sbe must have numey/" it was that she wore, phutii ju»'' . The very dress black hj»t v thaJ-"'' it was, the large were jr became her so well, was a wtw** adoubtedly costly. She poiorly, ,an who would never dress »y" . on are quite right," he went on, ,ou must have money, and T have none to speak of; but 1 deny that 1have no position. My last Journey to Africa shows that my party have need of me. ! am a coming man." i "Do you think seriously that you will ever make a living out of pout--9 ics?" she asked scornfully. "No, Ido not ; hut I do think that the more prominently I am before the public the "better it is for my profes-

ty a year of my own ]x?,sides." Hero they both laughed. "It is not much,' lie said apologet-' icaily, but it would be settled on my wife." "Again I say the 'bribe is not bi«i enough,' she declared. "What a harpy you are," he said. "I am,',sho answered gravely. "You may just .as well realise that my—No, I had bettor not tempt you." "You always tempt me," he murmured. "Isobel, I can't conceive why it is that I am so lucky as to win your love!' ' "I cant' conceive it myself, either," she said, "except that you arc the very last man that I would have chosen, if I could have helped myself." "Whom would you have chosen?-' ho asked jealously. "A rich man," she relied promptly —"a man of title and position. I am convinced that for such a position I was created, and yet I ,mnst go and fall in love with you, who have nothing at all. When I think of it lam furious. I see my mother's point of view, and .sympathise with it entirely. If 1 sion. And I have a hundred and fifI were in her place I would lock her daughter up, and give her bread and water until she repented." "Would that be soon?" "At once. I say .so, not because I recoil from the rotion of bread- and water, but because I am really repenting already; but the worst of it all is that it cannot make any difference in my .feelings to you. I have repented ever since I have known you, but when you went to South Africa I missed you very much.' "Shall I go away again?" "Certainly, if your going away does any good. For there are so few occasions when, we can see each other that we might as well be separated airtogether." - ''l know. Isobel|. let me tell mv mother. If she refuses her consent, we are no worse off than ever. You are oii-age, and you can do what you like." "But if she did that .we would be worse off thaaiv are. My mother would refuse to see you altogether; we should not even send a card to those "At Homes' of ours that you enjoy so much!" "I hate them," ho protested. "To go to your house, and only vo -iold your, hand for a moment, as a hundred other people do, annoys me. I feel inclined to cry out: •' 'Get away: from her —she belongs to me.. She loves me." _ ■ "It would certainly make a sensation,' Isobel said merrily. v "Well, shall I?' ' | "Shall you what? Shout out your ! feelings toward me in a drawing room full of people.? Well, sometimes there comes to -me the feeling that the crude, primitive way of our forefathers has a charm. Fate favoured the strongest man then." "I am a strong man.' ' "I know, but I am strong too. In imagination things come to me that are stronger than your strength." "What things?" , "Beady-made 'dresses —a semi-de-tached house in.the suburbs, insitfficf - ient paint on tho front door, art carpet, a necklace of gold with a small pendant, cheap shops, and a longing to make the Sundays joint last a little longer than it legitimately ojugnt—••an-.i those, are the things that are stronger ' tliiiti you, dear Mark." "Thoset" he said disdainfully, "are things concerning your creatine comforts. Ido not think your love is the right sort after all.' J «£'oh, yes you do/ remarked coolly'. She liked 'him W v tter for liis ftOg'7 sneaking. Jv ! W ®y I>u^ iovt* "Do I, Isobel ?" he asked softly. 'lf you drt ijot -it is because you have limited pereepiioiis. Come now, [e,i me truthfully, llke to j m'e'nra v ' .» "No! hj? saU 1 . 'gravely.'' " Iwoulu

nqW ' ' ■ "Then why are you angry when .1 enumerate tho details ? If men had more knowledge of detail, life would be easier for most women. ' ■ "Well,' he said .after a 'few minutes' silence, "what are we to do, Isobel?" - . ' "What can wo do?' she asked, m. a low tone,. ' • * "What I want to do is to sieze the situation boldly. Let ine go to youi mother." , "She would refuse —she has otl^ f . views for me." "Definite vie _ or loss, (To he ■xmtttmvS.)