Nobelist.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2295, 26 March 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Nobelist.

BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN, Author of " Ship Ahoy," " Dutch the Diver," " The Foundry Belle," &c. The Story: 1860 Strange Lives. [All Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER XXVI. A NEW INMATE. The Midge noticed a great deal of difference in the Gentleman, as he came to and left the old house, sometimes with the dog, sometimes without. He was thoughtful, and would sit and smoke and think, paying no heed to her, though her great dark eyes were directed wistfully at his, anil she often sighed deeply. As often as not he left the dog there, but there were no more strange visits to tho cellars, for when one day the dog startled her by its howling and barking, and she found that he was below, she summoned up courage to follow him, and to try and call him away. She lit a candle and went down, when, to her surprise, she found there was no exit from the back kitchen, and Joby was sitting down throwing up his head and howling, before where a door had been plastered up and whitewashed over, evidently one night while she slept. She shuddered as she gazed at the blank damp piece of wall, and then felt lighter-hearted, and, patting the dog, went back to the sitting-room, feeling as if she had been relieved of some terrible burden that had oppressed her and filled her waking nights with horror, and her dreams with such frightful images that she could not think of them without a shudder.

'Well, Midge,' said the Gentleman, one day, 'don't you find this great place | very dull when we are all away ?' ' Dull P Yes, and solemn, and fearful,' j Baid the girl with a shudder, ' but I get used to it. I have been used to stay alpne since a very little child. 4 But you would like company, would you not ?' • Oh, yes,' said the girl, thrusting back her long, ill-tended hair. ' Are you coming to live here altogether 4 1 ? Oh, no, my girl,' he said, thoughtfully. 'It is a friend of mine.' «is—i s he anything like you ?' said the Midge, curiously. 'He!' said the Gentleman, with a scornful laugh. ' It is a lady.' ' A lady—a friend of yours!' said the girl, shrinking away, with a curious expression coming over her face. ' Yes, a lady; a friend of mine—my ■wife,' said the Gentleman, sharply, ' and you will have to wait upon her, and do •what she wishes. She will live here perhaps, altogether. You will like that, Midge ?' 'Your wifeP—Yes—no —I do not know,' said the girl in a strange tone of voice. But it passed unnoticed, for her companion was deep in his own thoughts, and he soon after went away. The Midge was no sooner left alone than she stood grinding her teeth and tearing her hair, while her eyes glistened like those of some savage beast. ' His wife !' she cried at last, in a hot burst of passion, ' and he is going to bring her here for me to see him make love to her, and caress and kiss her, while I am to be her slave. Oh, it is more than I can bear.' She tore up and down the room, pressing her hands to her forehead as if some mental seizure were upon her, and the tears that would have given her relief refused to come. At last she stopped, panting and exhausted by her efforts, to stand with a strange smile upon her thin lips as she exclaimed: — • But I can have revenge. She is coming here. I can poison her, or strangle her as she sleeps. Why not ? They kill men here.' She stopped, shuddering, and then went •to the open window to stand gazing out, seeing, however, nothing of what went •on below, for her mind was busy with conjecture. Who was the Gentleman's — Mr Huish's—wife ? Was she youngwas she handsome ? Yes, she argued, his wife must be

handsome. He loved handsome women. She had heard him say so to the major, and he despised those that were plain— such as she was herself.

It would be some young and handsome woman whom ho had married. But would she be dark or fair ?

After a time she settled in her own mind that, as he had such a dislike to her, the dark of skin and black of hair, it must be some fair, soft-haired, greyeyed beauty. 'And I shall hate her. I shall hate her. But perhaps she may die,' she said, with a curious look in her eyes as she turned from the window, just as a heavy knocking at the door startled her. The Midge's first act was to run back to the window, and look out, when, to her surprise, she found that a van load of furniture was at the door, and going down she found her father and the Gentleman just returning. There were more surprises for the Midge, who, by the next day, found that two rooms upon the second floor had been neatly papered and comfortably furnished, and as she stood gazing about at the various little decorations, the girl's whole nature seemed to be changed, and she looked ready to break and destroy the different objects, around. 'Yes,' she exclaimed, gazing in the mirror over the mantelpiece, ' you will show her handsome face. Take care of it, or it may grow plain as mine.' She gazed from couch to picture, and from picture to chair, all being good and well-chosen. Then, passing into the bedroom, with its pretty, tasty fittings, she plunged her hands with luxurious joy iuto the soft pillow, and clutched it with her nails, which made a peculiar noise as they scratched and tore over the cover. ' Her bed—for her to sleep and dream of him. How soft and pleasant and sweet; but she might sleep too heavily, and never wake again, and would he love me then ?'

The girl turned away with a low moan, and hurrying from the rooms, crept to her own resting-place by the window. About nine o'clock that night as the Midge sat alone in the darkness, she heard a latchikey thrust into the door below. Then a match was struck and steps were heard ascending the stairs, till as they reached the landing, a female voice said, pettishly : — ' What a miserable old place ! Why did you bring me here ?' ' I thought any place would do if you were near me,' said a well-known voice in reply. « Yes, yes, but I am tired and lowspirited. Have you no servant here ?' 4 Yes,' was the reply ; ' come along, my darling, and she shall soon bring you some tea.'

' Servant !' hissed the Midge to herself, ' does he mean me ? Does he expect me to wait upon the woman he loves? I will not. I hate her—l would sooner die.'

' Midge!' came from above in short sharp tones. She did not reply. ' Midge '.—Here, quick !' was shouted again, and after an effort to withstand the influence brought to bear upon her, the girl uttered a low wail of misery, yielded to a will stronger than her own, and crept slowly up to the front room, where she stood gazing at the handsome dark woman in mourning, who was standing with her hands locked upon the gentleman's arm.

' Come, girl, quick,' cried the young man, shortly. ' June, dear, this is the Midge. She will be your obedient little servant, and do everything for you, and you will give her a lesson in keeping herself tidy, and tell her not to come before a lady with that wild head of hair.' The Midge startled as if stung, and hastily smoothed back her locks. The eyes of the two girls then met, the Midge's full of eager curiosity and dislike, those of June full of quiet contempt. ' Get me some tea, girl,' she said, in a voice full of calm authority, and after gazing at her respectfully for a few moments, the Midge retired. ' Well, little one,' said the gentleman, smiling, ' you don't seem pleased with your home.' ' Pleased !' she cried angrily, as she tore herself away, " how can I be pleased ? Is this a home for your wife ? Why do you bring me here ? You make me your slave ; you take away my very will, and then you torture me.' 'Nonsense, child,' he said, sitting upon the edge of the table with half-closed eyes, evidently enjoying his companion's excitement. ' I torture you ! why my sole desire is to make you happy.'

1 Happy !' she cried, pausing before him. 'Is it likely to make me happy— these long absences from me, and no explanation of where you have been ? When my poor father died, and I was left alone in the world, did I not listen to you and trust you ?' 'Yes, my dear,' he said, yawning slightly; ' and I have found you two homes, one in the country, one here.' ' Homes !' she cried, bitterly, as the great tears welled to her eyes, and her bosom heaved; 'is it a home without you ?' ' Without me,' he laughed. ' Why, am I not here ?'

' Yes, for a few hours, perhaps ; that is all. John, dear John,' she cried, flinging her arms round him and clinging to him tightly. ' You made me love you—you gained a strange influence over me, and I have been your slave. Tell me, do you love me as husband should love his wife ?'

' Why you know I do, little one,' he said, playing with her downy ruddy cheek, and passing an arm round her soft undulating form. ' Why what fit have you taken now !' 'No fit. John, love, only the desire to have the full proof of your love. Do not keep me any longer in suspense. You may have reasons and a desire to keep your actions a secret. Well and good ; I shall not ask to know anything ; but we are now in London. Why not introduce me to your relatives ?' 'To be sure we are,' he said, drawing her more closely to him, and pressing his lips to hers. 'But my relatives? No, my dear, it would be better not."

' You do not love me, or you would do so at once,' she said, piteously, as she tore her lips from his kiss. 'Of course,' he said, mockingly. 'It is now half-past nine. Sit down and have some tea, add I'll run for the lot. I daresay I shall find them waiting to come." June started from him with eyes flashing, but he caught her arm, and drew her to him once more, holding her tightly in his embrace, and laughing at her efforts to free herself, till the Midge entered the room, when he lossed her, and lighting a cigar, turned towards the door.

' I shall be back presently,' he said, coolly. Mind, Midge, these are my wife's —Mrs Huish's—room, and no one has any right to come near thems, June, you can lock yourself in if you like."

He went away humming a scrap of an operatic air, and June stood listening till she heard his step reach the bottom of the house, and the door close heavily, when she turned to throw herself into a chair ready to sob as if her heart would break, but he eyes fell upon those of tho Midge, who was watching her curiously, and with so malignant an expression that the girl's lip curled, and she returned the Midge's look with so haughty and indignant a stare, that the latter quailed and went on busying herself preparing tea.

' Who are you ? What is your wretched name, girl r" cried June, imperiously,

' Midge,' said the girl ill a sulky tone." ' Who Jives here besides Mr Hush ?' ' Ho does not live here,' said the girl, sharply. ' Where, then."

' I don't know. I'm not sure. Somewhere out by Westminster, Jane Glyno says." ' Jano Glyne,' says June, hurriedly, ' who is she ?'

' Friend of his,' and the Midge, shortly, as she resented this examination

■ Is she—ia she young ?'—said June. ' No,' was the short reply, 'old and U gly—uglier that I am,' she added with a bitter laugh. ' Will your pour out some tea ?'

' No,' replied June. " You pour it out: lam tired. I am not angry with you. Tell mo more about Mr Huish. But does anyone else live here ?' 'Father,' said the girl, shortly. ' Who is your father ?' ' Friend of his,' the girl; and then, hastily, ' I'm not your ser< ant.' • No, no, no, no,' said June, hastily, and making a piteous effort to keep back her tears, she tried to gain more information about the place to which she was brought. ' Tell me,' she exclaimed, ' What is this place ? Tell me everything about it. Pray, pray, tell me.'.

'No,' said the Midge shortly, and her eyes glittered with jealous hatred of the wotnan before her, " no, I shall tell you nothing. Find out, as I have done, if you are to live here. Learn things that will make you grow thin and sallow and ugly and unwholesome, as I have grown F Learn things that will make you lie and shiver in your bed. Wait and learn it all, till you grow like me, and find that he hates you for your ugliness, and treats you the same as he does me. What,' she cried, excitedly, ' You don't believe it Listen: I bought, with the pence I had saved up, a beautiful flower last spring. It was one mass of golden orange bloom and bright green leaves, and I put in my window and used to watch it; but it began to fade at once ; the flowers drooped, petal by petal, and the leaves grew ■yellow till it was bare and wretched and ugly. I thought of it when I first saw you to-night, and felt that you would soon turn like the flower, and me, and then he'll laugh at you as he does at me.'

June's breath came thick and fast, as she listened to the Midge's mocking words—words which found too ready an echo in her heart. For the wild dream of mad passion was over, and this was the awakening. The idol she had thought of gold had shown her the feet of clay, and too surely she was beginning to learn that the fierce love with which he had sought her was as hot and blasting as the lightning's flash, and that the forebodings that had been tormenting her for weeks were being fulfilled. And yet she loved this man, for his had been the task to waken the latent fire in her young blood. He it was who had taught her the meaning of the word love, and, in spite of all his late neglect and carelessness to her, she knew that her heart was his and his alone, and that she would crawl at his feet for a smile, and do his bidding even if it cost her life. Soon after their fir.-t meeting her invalid father had died suddenly, and then this lover of a moment came upon her again with so strong an influence that in her loneliness she had clung to him, leaving those who offered her a home for her father's sake to become this man's wife, and now—now—oh, this awakening was piteous indeed. She fought hard : she was strong and determined ; and this pitiful girl she was resolved should not see her sorrow ; but on this night she was weak and unerved for the moment. He whom she loved had never before treated her with such cool and studied contempt. It was more than she could bear, and at last, regardless of the Midge's malicious eyes, she sank back upon the sofa, buried he face in her hands, and the piteous heartrending sobs made her whole quiver as the tears guished between her fingers. For a few minutes the stood gazing at her with contempt; then hoiface softened, and she poured out a cup of tea and took it to the suffering girl, who paid no heed to her words, and at last, thoroughly moved, the Midge knelt down beside her, and kissed her hands. 'Don't cry,' she said in a voice that was now low and musical. 'I didn't mean what I said. I hated you because he loved you, and it seemed so hard when he treats me like a dog. Poor thing ; and you so handsome too. There, there. I will wait on you and serve you. I will be your servant. I'll do anything, only don't cry—l cannot bear it—it hurts me here.' She pressed her hands to her breast, and then touched Jane's soft fingers ; but her words were of no avail, for the suffering girl crouched there, weeping bitterly the tears of sorrow and mortified pride, while the Midge, pitying now, in place of angry, crouched at her feet till she fell asleep, and so passed the young wife's first night in the old house in the city. CHAPTER XXVII. RENEE'S TROUBLES. You do not confide in me, said Clare, tenderly, as the two sisters took a couple of chairs beneath one of the spreading trees in the park. ' Why do you not make me more your confidant? One feels as if one could talk out here in the park where there are no walls to listen. Come dear, why do you not tell me all ?' ' Because, Clare, I feel that my husband's secrets are in my keeping, and that I should be doing wrong to speak of what he does.' ' Not wrong in confiding in me, Renee,' said Clare, tenderly. 4 You are not happy. Oh, Ren, Ren, why did you consent ?' ' For the same reason that you are consenting to this union with Sir Grantley Wilters,' cried Retiee in a low passionate voice, ' because it was mamma's will that we should marry well and have establishments, and satisfy her pride. Clare, Clare, sometimes I think it would have been better if I had never been born.' 'Oh, Ren, Ren,' her sister whispered, pressing her hand.' But Frank! he is kind to you.' 'Yes,' said Renee, sadly; ' he is never angry with me.' ' But I mean kind and loving and attentive, as your husband should be,' said Clare, softly. Rente looked at her with a sad heavy look, and now that the first confidence had been made, her heart was ODen to sister. ' Clare,' she whispered, ' he never loved me.' ' Oh, Ren, dear ; think what you are saying.' ' I do think, dear, and I say it once more. He never loved me.' 'But Reuee, you have been kind and loving to him.' ' Yes, as tender as woman could be to the man she had sworn to love; but ho does not care for me, and I am haunted.' ' Haunted, Rente !' 'Yes; Hush! There is CaptainJGarland.' Clare glanced in the direction taken by her sister's eyes, and her heart seemed to bo compressed as by a uold hand as she turned indignantly to her sister. ' Renee,' sh said in a horified whisper, ' this should not be. Oh, do not say yon care for Captain Garland still.' 'Clare,' cried Renee catching her hand, ' how dare you suspect me. I hate—l detest him. I thought him a

gentleman once, and I did love him; but that was over when I married Frank, and since then he has haunted me ; he follows me everywhere, and Frank makes him his constant companion and he leads him away? 'Oh, Ren, Ren, this is dreadful.' 'Dreadful!' cried Ren6e, 'I fell at times I cannot bear it. Come away ; he has seen us, and is coming here. Come, Clare, let us go.' 'Is—is that Mr Huish ?' whispered Clare, gazing: in another direction. ' Yes. Who is tho dark lady on his arm ?' ' I do not know,' said Clare, quietly. ' Some friend, perhaps; but look, is not that Frank ?' She drew her sister's attention towards a phaeton in which Frank Morrison was was driving a handsome-looking woman dressed in the height ot' fashion, and directly Renee saw him plainly, Captain Garland iuterposed. ' What a delightful meeting,' he said, ' Miss Hetley, you look charming. Mrs Morrison, I hope I shall not be do trop. 'My husband's friends have too great a claim on me, Captain Garland,' said Rente, quietly, as she left her seat and went in the direction of her own home. 'By-the-way,' he said, 'where is-my brother P I have not seen him lately.-' lln Switzerland, I believe,' said Renee. 'So much the better,' muttered Capt. Garland, and Renee, to his great delight, kept glancing in the direction taken by the Phaeton. It was cleverly managed, and just as if Garland knew exactly when the phaeton would next come by, timing his place so well that the sisters were close by tho railings as the dashing 1 pai scattered some of the earth over the young wife's dress, ' Who is that with Frank Morrison, Captain Garland ?' said Clare, quickly. ' I beg your pardon,' he said. ' That fashionably-dressed lady in my brother-in-law's phaeton. There they go.' ' Indeed !' said the captain. ' I was not looking. Are you sure it was he !' ' Certain,' replied Clare. 'My dear Mrs Morrison, is anything the matter!' cried Captain Garland, with a voice full of sympathy. 'No, Captain Garland, nothing,' said the young wife, who was now deadly pale. ' May I ask you—to leave us, ' Yes,' he said earnestly, " but I shall not go. Pray take my arm. Miss Hetley, your sister is ill. I fear you have been imprudent and have taxed her strength. I must see her safely home or I could not face Morrison again.' He haunts me,' though Clare to herself, as she recalled her sister's words, and found that the captain persisted in walking by her side till they reached Eaton Place, where, murmuring his satisfaction that Renee seemed better, he left the sisters in the hall.

' All things come to the man who waits, he muttered to himself as he went off, smiling. "That was well managed, and the prize may be mine yet.' ' Renee,' said Clare, as soon as they were alone,' 1 have you ever encouraged him in any way since your marriage ? How is it he seems to have such a hold upon you ?' 'I do not know—l cannot tell,' said Renee, wearily, as, with brow contracted, she sat thinking of the scene in the park. 'But do not mention him —do not think of him, Clare, dear; he is as nothing in the face of this new misery. 'New Misery?' said Clare, innocently. ' Yes,' cried ReniSe, passionately, 'do you not see? Oh, Frank, Frank !' she moaned, 1 why do you treat me so ?' Clare, upon whom all this came like a revelation, strove to comfort her, and to point out that her fears might be mere exaggerations, but the young wife turned upon her with a sad sweet expression. ' You do not understand these things, Clare,' she said. 'He does not love me as he should, and, knowing this, Captain Garland has never ceased to try and tempt him away from me—to the clubs— to gambling parties, from which he comes home hot and feverish ; and now it seems that worse is to follow. Oh, mother, mother, you have securcd me an establishment which I would gladly change for the humblest cottage, if it contained my husband's faithful love.' Clare'si heart beat fast at these words and a faltering purpose became strengthened. 'But, Ren, darling,' she whispered; ' have you spoken to him and tried to win him from such associations ? Frank is so good at heart. 'Yes,' sighed Renee 'but so weak and easily led away. Spoken to him, Clare? No dear. As liis wife, I have felt that I must ignore such things. I would not know that he visited such places—that he gambled—that he returned home excited. I have put all such thoughts aside, and met him always with the same smile of welcome, when my heart has been well nigh broken.' 'My poor sister!' whispered Clare drawing her head to her breast and thinking of the husband and establishment that her mother had arranged for her to possess. ' But this I feel that I cannot bear,' cried Rentfe, impetuously. 'It is too great an outrage.' 'Oh, Ren, Ren,' whispered Clare, 'do not judge him too rashly ; wait and see : it may be all a mistake.' ' Mistake !' said ReniSe, bitterly, " did you not see him driving that woman out? Did you not see her occupying the place that should be mine ?'

' Yes—yes,' faltered Clare ; but still there may be some explanation.' ' Yes,' said Renee at last, as she dried her tears, and sat up, looking very cold and stern, 1 there may be, and we will wait and see. You are right, Glare, and I will not drive hirr to more open rebellion against my wifely rights by anger. Perhaps my love for him and forced ignorance of his acts may win him back even yet. At all events I will not say one single harsh word.'

Clare left her at last quite calm and composed, the brougham being ordered fot her use, and she sat back thinking of John Huish with the dark lady, but only to smile, for no jealous fancy troubled her breast. He was all that was noble and chivalrous to her, and she sighed as she thought of what life would be with him, as compared wit the lot arranged for her by Lady Denver. She reached home to find Justine in her room fretting with excitement.

'Oh it is terrible, she exclaimed. 'Monsieur Launay and his aide parcel out zair time in leetler tiny peace, and you are half an hour late. Ah, mademoiselle, it is a pity—when Miladi is so anxious about your hair.' Clare hesitated for a few moments as if careless about her hair. Then the recollection of her sister's troubles came back, and she turned to the maid who, with a strange smile on her thin lips, led the way down, and condncted her young mistress to that region of second-hand and left-ofF wardrobes, Upper Gimpstreefc, where the wax gentleman seemed watching for her coming, and she was at once urhered into the inner room by Monsieur Hector himself, with the greatest of respect, the assistant, as he fed the patient to a seat, himself removing her hat, and passing the soft fair tresses through his hands. CHAPTER XVIII. IN HIS TRUE COLOURS. That same evening Rentfe received a note from her sister, couched iu a much

brighter strain than she had written in of late, and saying that she had been thinking of their morning's conversation, and she should advise her to ignore that which she had seen in the park. Even if it was an act of falsity towards her it would be better to pass it over, and win him back by love.'

' Dearest Ren,' she concluded, 1 1 feel satisfied now that everything should give way to the love of him that possesses our hearts. It is a natural duty, and [must be right.'

' Poor Clare ? How strangely she writes,' sighed Ren<3e, and she hastily burned the letter, as her heart began to beat, for she heard a well-known step upon the stairs.

It was quite dinner time, and she was waiting, dressed, for her husband's return, looking sad, but very sweet and self-possessed ; and as he entered the room she ran to meet him, put her arms round his neck and kissed him on lips that had been caressing an hour before.

• Ah, Rente, 1 he said, quietly, ' waiting dinnor ? So sorry, little womon. I could not get near a telegraph office, or I would have sent and told you.' 'I have not waited long, Frank,' she said, cheerfully. 'lam so glad you have come back.' "But that is not what I meant, dear,' he replied, 'I am only returned to dress. I dine out.' 'Dine out, Frank?' she said, trying hard not to seein troubled. 'Yes. Obliged to. Two or'three fellows at the club. Couldn't refuse. You will excuse me to-night, little one ?' 'Oh yes, Frank,' she said, quickly, 'if you must go, dear, I will not say lam not disappointed ; but if you must go—" 'Yes, I must really,' he said. 'Don't fidget, and don't wait up. There may be a rubber of whist afterwards, and I shall be late.' 'How easy it is to lie and deceive,' thought Renee, as, with the same calm, placid smile, she listened to her husband's excuses. " You are going, Frank, to that handsome, fashionable-looking woman ? You will dine with her, and spend the evening at her house, while I, with breaking heart sit here alone, mad almost with jealousy I dare not show.' Thoughts like these flitted through her mind as she put up her face and kissed him before quietly ringing the bell for her dinner to be served, and going down to the solitary meal. Her husband came in for a moment to say good-bye, cheerfully, and then she was alone. ' It was a hard and bitter task, but she fulfilled it, sitting there calmly before the servants, and partaking of her solitary dinner, It was for his sake, she said, for no servant must dream that they were not happy ; all must go on as usual, aud some day he would come back repentant to her forgiving arms, won by her patience and long suffering. She sat thinking this over and over again alone in the drawing-room, with a calm, sad smile upon her lips, pitying herself, but telling herself that she could be strong enough to fulfil her self-im-posed task. Not one word of reproach should be his, only tender words of kindness always. She was his wife, and would forgive ; yes, had already forgiven, and granted him a dispensation for the sins against her that he might commit. ' Poor Frank, he never loved me as he thought he did, but I shall win him yet,' she murmured, and then started, for she fancied that she had heard a door close. She saw nothing though, and paid little heed, for if it was, it might easily be one of the servants in the farther drawingroom, one of the set of three, the third being quite a small boudour, where she was seated, while the others were only half lit. She leaned back in her low chair dreaming of the happy days to come, when her husband would return to her, and then her thoughts glided off to Clare and her projected marriage. ' Poor Clare,' she murmured; ' but better, perhaps, with Sir Grantley, who seems to love her, than with Mr Huish, who appears to have turned out so worthless a man.' It was strange, she thought, that both she and her sister should have set the affections of their young hearts upon inen who had on beiug tried and proved to be unworthy of trust. ' Poor Clare ! —poor me!' she said, half laughing. 'It is a strange world, and perhaps, after all, our parents are right in choosing our partners for life.'

Then she started once more, for she knew that she was not alone, and on turning, there, in evening dress, his crush hat in his hand, and looking calm, handsome, and smiling enough for an incarnation of the spfrit of evil himself, stood Captain Garland. ' Nervous, Mrs Morrison ? Good evening. Did you not hear me announced ! No? Your carpets are so soft." He almost forced her to hold out her hand to him as she sat up, by extending his own, andhetookit and raisedit respectfully to his lips. ' But where is Frank !' he asked. 'My husband dines out this evening,' said Ren6e, coldly. ' Indeed ! how unfortunate. He asked me to run over one evening for a cup of coffee and a cigar. Perhaps he will return soon.'

'Not till quite late.' said RemSe, who tried hard not to show that she was troubled] by the visit. ' I am'so glad to see you better, Renee,' he said, taking a chair near her, speaking in a low earnest voice.

Reu6e started, for it was the firfit time since her marriage that he had called her by her name, and as she met his eyes, she felt that it was also the first time since the same event that he had gazed at her with such bold admiration.

What could she do? She could not bid him leave her, and besides she felt that in a few minutes his gentlemanly instincts muat lead him to go, and indeed what was to fear ? He was a gentleman, a friend of her husband, and he had called to see them. 'How times are changed, Renee,' he said, after a pause, as he gazed at her pensively. 'Once your eyes used to brighten and the colour came into your cheek when I came near : now—is it a dream—a trick of fancy? I find you another's and you turn from me with coldness.' ' Captain Garlad.' said Rontfs quietly; 'is this a suitable way of addressing the wife of your friend ?' The mask fell off at these words. ' Friend !' he cried, bitterly, as he drew his chair close to the couch 011 which she sat; 'he is no friend of mine. Friend ! What, the man who has robbed me of all that was dear ? Who has made my life a desert. Friend ? Renue, you mock me by using such a word.' 1 Captain Garland ! 1 she cried, looking at him with frightened expression. 'Hush!'he exclaimed, throwing down his hat; 'hear me now, for the time has come, and I must speak, even though it be to wound the heart of the tenderest and sweetest of women. Eence, can I call the man friend who deliberately forsakes you for tho society of a notorious woman —an actress !'

' Friend ? No,' cried Renee, with flashing eyes—as she rose to ring; but he eaught her wrist and stayed her—'no: nor he yoiirs, if this is your friendship, Captain Garland, to come and blacken my husband'? name with foul calummy to his wife.'

' Stop !' he said, you shall not ring. ' Calummy ! foul! Is it a foul calummy to say that he was driving her in the park to-day—that he is dining with her and her and her friends to-night? Shame, Ren6e, that you should speak thus to the man who has ever been your slave.' ' Captain Garland!' she cried, 'I insist upon your leaving me this instant.' " Leave you ; no," he cried, seizing her other hand, and pressing her back in her seat as he fell upon his kness at her feet, not till I have told you, Rende, that the old love never died in my heart, but has grown up stronger, greener, day by day, till it has mastered my very being." " Captain Garland," cried Renee, "I will not listen to this language. By your honour as a gentleman —"

" Honour ! Gentleman !" he cried, in a low hoarse voice, " everything has been mastered by this one great idea. Reu<3e, I go to my bed thinking of you ; I sleep to dream of your sweet face ; and I wake with your name upon my lips."

" Captain Garland, I am your friend's wife," she cried. "I have room for no other thought. You are the woman I worship ; of whom I have been robbed, and who, I swore on the morning when you became that cold libertine's wife should yet be mine."

" Loose me, Captain Garland," she cried, and she leaped up nearly reached the bell, when he threw his arm around her, and restrained her. "Would you alarm the house !" he panted in a hoarse whisper. "Yes," she cried aloud. -'Help here, help !" " Hush, silly child," he cried. "You would compromise yourself before these vulgar people, who would place their own interpretation on your conduct." His words had this effect upon her that she ceased her cries ; but struggled to free herself. "You are wise," he said grimly. " They know your husband is out, and that you are receiving my visit in his absence. What else can they think ?" " Captain Garland, this is cowardly ; it is cruel. Oh, Heaven help me! what shall I do?" " Do !" he whispered, as she sank back half exhausted upon the couch; "be mine, dearest Come with me at once from this place to the home I will provide for you, my own—my darling D n." " Thank God ! it is Frank," cried Rende hysterically, as she sank sobbing upon the nearest chair. ■'Quick!" cried Garland. "Where can I go !" "Go!" she cried. " Wretch, you shall suffer for this outrage." "Are you mad?" he cried, excitedly. " Do you think he will believe what you tell him ! Quick, take a book —pretend to be asleep—anything—if you would not be disgraced for ever." " No ; stop !" cried Renee ; but she was too late; he had snatched up his hat and stepped through the curtain that shut out the little conservatory, which curtain was still trembling as Frank Morrison bouuded up the stairs, dasherl up the stairs, dashed open the door and entered the room, while with a smile of triumph, Garland stood waiting, knowing that in a few moments the infuriated husband would tear open the curtains and bid him come forth. "I don't think I am afraid of Frank Morrison," he said himself , " hut I may as well be prepared for the worst." (To be continued).