Fotheringay's Son.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 10713, 9 December 1912, Page 2

Fotheringay's Son.

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I'HAI'TKR IV. (Continued.)

i: AJv child " she began, Mien stopped, astonished b.v the sight of the ball dress which the maid was unfolding. "You art' not thinking of going out to-r.ight, Virginia?" "Whv not?"

"1 did not think you would," said Lady Rayburn, who would have sa:d mor'r but for the presence of the maid.

"You forget, mother, I have promised." saicl Virginia,'with dignity. "1 cannot gf hack on my word." _ "My poor child," fried Lady Raybarn clcrlv, "don't you think an accident like tli.is is excuse enoughs." She still thought that was trying to hide the sadness of her heart. . .

"No, dear." said Virginia, very sweetly, "I don|t think so. You see. no one knows that Tony is anything to me. and T d,o not think he would care for it to he known while he is lying incapacitated." "But why, mv dearest child, why?" crie.fl Lady Ravburn. That was rather a poser for \ irgini-i who did not know why. -except that she had no wish for it to be known But Virginia was not easily put at a disadvantage with her mother, "I think it is more instinct than reason with me, mother," she said. "T do understand Tony, you know." "It .shall be exactly as yon like," said Ladv Rayburn. "T .will dress quickly, Virginia." # "There is no hurry," said the girl "Wo need not he there before eleven. It is not that I want the enjoyment, you know, mother, only I have promised; and we will not stay long. "No, my darling," cried Lady Ravburn ; and then she added anxiously: "You arc si.re it will not be much for ,;•).! 1 1 (<t you will he able to endure the strain?" Virginia was unusually pale when she entered the ballroom that night, although her pallor did not detract from her beauty. Tony's loss was the gain of many others. The little duke was - waiting, card in hand, forjier at the foot of'tlie staircase, \irgmia looked at the card he held out to her. His name was inscribed on it many times. He was evidently- trying to ! fill Tony's shoes. She honored him with the first two ! dancers, but scarcely spoke a word. He danced well, but he was too short for her; their steps did not harmonise perfectly. It was not like Tony's dancing—but then nothing in this world was like 'Fonv, worse luck! Virginia -stifled a sigh -and looked serious enough to satisfy even her mother. The duke rallied her on her silence when he came fop his third dance. "Are you thinking of our sick friend that you are so quiet?" he asked. ' :

Virginia, employed the weapon of truth very effectively sometimes. "Yes," she'said, "I was thinking of him; you see, he is a sort of cousin, and I have never been to a. dance in iLondbn without him. T should 'be a brute if I did not think of him a little!"

"I .im sure you are not that," said the duke. He was quite pleased t|iat Virginia should show so much feeling, for he had not credited her with much."There is a. little terrace overlooking tho park," he said. "Come find sit out with me—the night is hot."

"Very well," she answered, and they made their war out.

It was a perfect June might, with a full moon shining down on a transformed world. Around them could he Heard the subdued murmur of London by night and the faint strains of the dance music. It was a night full of fascination, of odors that stirred the blood, Jiill of the essence of love. And out here, alone with this dapper little duke, tlie youtli in Virginia cried out for Tony, her hero of romance —Tony, who was second to [none —Tony, to whom only yesterday I she had confessed her love!

Bxit the June night was potent with j Alfreton also. By tHe light of the j moon ho could see Virginia's beauti-; ful face. The cold, white light gave it an austerity that the daylight fail* ed to give.. He rather liked her for looking cold and apart.from the rest erf. the 'world. But he was; cautious, and diet not mean toTisk losnig everything by speaking prematurely. "I was not ouite sure yon would como, after all." he said. "Bid I not promise?" i "I thought Captain 8 Fotheringay's accident might have kepi; you from coming." "I could do him no good," she said quietly enough. There wast silence, and tlie moon disappeared' behind a drift of cloud. "I wonder if you would tell me one thing?" said the duke. For «t moment the girl hesitated, and then she said: "That depends on iwhat you ask me." < "Briefly it, is this—are yoti bound to Cantain Fotheringay?" After a moment's hesitation VirgiuA ia answered: "Yesterday I confessed that I had a regard for him; to-day I know that I shall never marry him." "Why not?" "You will think mo mercenary, but lam not. I shall not marry him because, fond as I am of him, I ;\m pot fond enough of him to marry him—a poor man!" "DM you know he was ooor yesterday. then?"

BY ADAIR Author of "An Island Princess," "A Marriage of Felicity " Etc.

"No," said Virginia, "1 heard it by chance to-day."

"And he believes that you will marry him?" "Yes. 1 cannot undeceive him now While he lies there suffering. You will readily understand that if J had intended to marry him I should not have cnnio to-night."

"Oh, J understand that well enough!" he said moodily. They were both -silent for a while.

"What will Captain Fotheringay say when ho knows?" asked, the (duke.

"How can I tell?" she answered wearily. "You imderstand that th: must not be spoken of. No one k' anything about him and me but you and Arthur Damian, and he is leaving England in a few days."

"1 understand," said the duke, in a chilled voice.

She wa-s quick to hear the coolness of his tone;

"You should not speak like that," she said , "for if it had not been for my promise to you T should not be hero to-night." "Would you not?" "No. I should not," she answered irritably, "and, now that I have kept my promise. I think I should like to eo back- to the ballroom." "No, no!" he said quickly. "Miss Rayburn, you feel hurt at- my tone, but in reality you should feel, pleased with it. It is because I rate you so highly that I feel vexed when you step off your pedestal for, ever so little ; it is only because you have been so good! to me that J think of Captain Fotheringay, whom you do not love enough to marry, l>eing poor. But he is not a man to be trifled with: there is wild blood in him—the Fotheringav's have' always been reckless, you know." "He will not hurt me," said the girl. "Oh. no, that would not be his way! He will hurt himself, not vou or me. For the matter of that, if lie did, T could orotect yon, but T am sorry for him." "Y'ou should be sorry for me," she said -softly.

"Sorry for you?" he exclaimed, with a laugh. ' "I tin not think there is a man in this world who can be sorry for Miss Bayburn! Why, you hold us in the hollow of your band, taking away from us all sense of honor and fair' dealing! I myself am capable of any baseness to win you; but I would rather the man were well and able to look after his own.'' "If he were well," said the girl. "I should not dare .to be out here with you." "I understand that, too," isaid the duko. "Miss liayburn, to-night I will just ask you one thing—may I hope?" "I cannot forbid you to hope," she answered lightly.

"This is 110 joking matter," lie said, twisting his mustache. "la-m doing a mean thing, I know. I ought to respect a sick tnan's. sweetheart, but I simply can't. To-night I will content myself with asking you it' 1 may hope; but if you will allow me—-then —then " Ho breathed hard, and did not finish his sentence. But she understood what he meant. | (To be .Continued.)