"Pretty Penelope,"

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 31 July 1913, Page 2

"Pretty Penelope,"

(OUR SERIAL

By Lffic Adelaide Rowlands, . . i . flirVn Kin&dom"A Splendid Man," "The InterAuthor ot Sin," "Brave Barbara," etc.

CHAPTER XVl.—Continued. Denis looked at her in much surPU,S 'The Westshirt hunt ball!" he repeated. "But Marcia, surely you do not intend to go? Why— * "Having ordered a gown expressly for the occasion, I may say I have every intention of going,' was Marcia's reply, with that smothered tone in her voice that was a note of warning to Denis that a storm was close at hand. , He was silent for a moment, ana then gave a quick, sliort sigh that was not lost on his wife, , "How I wish, Marcia," he said, with very natural irritation j how I wish you would be a little like an ordinary individual! I don't understand these strange ways and perpetual secrets and surprises. Why can't we run straight? Why not have told rme you wished to go to this ball? I-" ' "Oh I" and Marcia laughed shortly. "Many thanks ; I know what you would have done. lam perfectly aware you have special reasons for not desiring my presence at this ball, Denis." Denis' face flushed and he checked the exclamiation that rose to his lips. ' 'There is nothing mysterious about such a wish, Marcia. " Ido not consider you-are sufficiently strong for much social duty. I know that if you appear at this ball you will have to dance a good deal, and—" Marcia glanced across at him. "I beg you will begin to disabuse your mind about the fact that I am im invalid. lam .not an invalid, and I do hot intend to gratify your selfishness by posing as such." Denis lost his temper. I

"Good heavens! Marcia!" he said hotly, 'how horribly cruel and unjust you are. You —you positively appall me sometimes by the wrong thoughts that seem to crowd your brain. I wish—" Denis broke off, and rising, .moved to and fro for a moment in silence ; suddenly he paused beside her. "Marcia," he said, "have you any memory? Do ever go to the past ? If so, just draw a picture of yourself as you appeared in the days When to be my wife and mistress of my home was the one desire and ai-n of your life. Were you anything other than what you are, I think you would recognise that so far as has lain in my power I have done my duty to you. You married ifae knowing I had no deep love to offer you, but I said, then I would try and make you a good husband —and God knows, I have tried; and what is the result? You credit me with vileness., every unworthy thought, every miserable wrong a man could do. My girl!" Denis laid ihis hand, on his wife's thin shoulder, "you are making a great mistake; you are spoiling your own life; you are embittering mine. We must have a change, Marcia—a inau can stand a great deal, but he can (have too much to bear sometimes. If I treat you badly, tell me of my sin, and I will try and correct myself. I can do no more "than try and make you happy. I think we ought to ptill together a little better, if you would rfnly meet me halfway, but —" ''Are you indulging in a: sermon? It is not Sunday," Marcia said with a most disagreeable laugh. Denis drew his hand away swiftly. • "You are a cruel woman, Marcia," he said, his voice choked and miserable.

"And you!" Marcia rose to lier feet, and then she checked herself. "After all, we are so silly to quarrel —don't you think eo ? There is nothing now to be said between us. Things are certainly not very satisfactory. We have no great cause for rejoicing ia our married life, but we have equally no great cause for quarrelling. Let us agree to differ; it will save eo much trouble. Now, in the case of this ball, you don't want me to go; I am therefore going. If you do not want to be bored, you cam easily remain "If you are determined, I must, of course, accompany you." Denis spoke very plainly; he was a little surprised by such a long, quietly uttered speech from Marcia. It was a new departure for her to bear herself in this manner. Ever eager to grasp at anything •ivhich might foreshadow a .more rational frame of mind, however, Denis accepted Marcia's cheap cynicism, as. he imagined it was offered with a mental reservation that he would never approach his wife again on the subject of their mutual life. It had been an effort to speak at all; it was too bitter and humiliating to find his words dismissed with a sneer and a supercilious smile. He listened to the arrangements Marcia had made in complete silence. The news that®they were to be guests at Lady Susan's house gave him a cold sensation in his heart. In discussing the ball, he had forgotten for the moment that it was to be held so near to Penelope's new home; now, as with a sharp blow, he realised to the full all that lay before him in the next few days, the misery he would have to combat, the agony of love and yearning he would have to fight down, The thought of Penelope brought all at once a sudden fear, sharp, acute. He looked at his wife, and she, though her eyes were not looking at him, knew that he did so, and divined his thought. "It is good of Lady Susan to take us in," he said, as casually as he could speak, "but we might have gone to your cousin's house. Of course, yon know Penelope Desborough is living quite close to Lady Susan, I expect she -frill be hurt that we did not r*k her hospitality." iMi:ic.ia affected a manner of extreme languor and indifference, which at once imposed on Denis and set his <

fear at rest. "I knew Penelope was living in some eccentric fashion in the country, but I had no idea where. She neve writes to me; I g<*t such news of her as I havo through rny mother; I think, on the whole, it is better we should go to Lady Susan." "As you like," Denis answered, and there the conversation ended. As he walked to the stables he was conscious of a great relief. All at once the horror had come to him of what might happen did Marcia ever glean a hint of the truth about Penelope. "Thank heaven she does not!" he said to himself; "things are bad enough as they are but with that—" tDenis drew a sharp breath, and then all the pent-up agony of his heart burst forth. "Oh! my love! my love!" he said to himself, "just to have sight ofyou —Knowledge of your presence once again—and yet—yet, if this does come, if we stand face to face, as we .may do in a few days shall I be strong enough to bear the test? Can I turn from you and" take up the burden of my miserable life once more?"' Matcia watched him disappear in the trees. His tall, handsome figure made a picture of strong, manly, graceful lines as he walked. Her heart was . beating wildly, throbbing in every vein. "He is afraid of me," she whispered to herself; "he is afraid of what I shall do to iher if she comes near Ine. I deceived him well; he thinks I do not know. He will leave her to chance, and chance'shall give her to me and to my revenge." •.To be Contlmed.)