THE CAREER of STELLA FRAME

Ladies' Mirror, Volume I, Issue 4, 2 October 1922, Page 8

THE CAREER of STELLA FRAME

m h j - I i by ISABEL MAUDE PEACOCK E I

CHAPTER 111. YOU!” The cry broke from Stella’s X lips, shaking, shrill with excitement, while she shrank back as if a ghost had in truth risen to confront he her beautiful eyes a-stare in her white face. Tame smiled imperturbably. “My very self, my dear Stella!” “But we —I—l thought —” “You thought I was dead. I must apologise that I am not nearly so dead as you and your worthy husband concluded.” The sneer in his words was palpable, but at the mention of her husband the girl sank down weakly into a chair, and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, thank God! Thank God!” she murmured brokenly — “that you are alive —” VZ A change swept over Tarne’s face, softening its evil lines, banishing the sinister smile for the moment. He dropped on his knees beside Stella’s chair, and drew her hands down from her face; the tears were on her cheeks. | “Ah, Stella! Stella mia! Beloved!” he | stammered eagerly. “Then you do care? You love—” She wrenched her hands from him and rose, her great eyes blazing scorn I through her tears. “Care for you she cried. “ Love you? I care only for Lester Frane, my husband. And you talk of love to me, you who have kept me alive in Hell for two days and tortured me. Oh, what I have endured” her voice broke hysterically. He had risen from his knees now, and flashed her a dark look of fury, but he spoke calmly enough, though a , restless pulse twitched in his cheek. “You earned that,” he said. “But a thousand pardons for mistaking the object of your solicitude. It is, of course, for the safety of your —er —worthy husband you thank God. I flattered myself unduly that you could feel any concern _ for the life of a man you left dying when you might have called in medical aid.” She looked at him with remorseful eyes. “I see now —I see nowthat is what we ought to have done. I thought of it at first, but there is no telephone here. You will have it that it would interrupt your music, and afterwards we knew —we thought—we were certain it was too late —” He laughed dryly, “Nothing is certain, my dear Stella, in this uncertain life, not even death.” He was playing with an empty leather pocket-book with broken straps as he spoke, and she noted it with a vague sense of familiarity. Then suddenly a blaze of joyous relief ran like molten fire through her veins, and she clasped her hands. “Oh, but it is all right now,” she said. “Lester is safe—safe —we have nothing to fear now. I do most truly give thanks,” she added earnestly, “that you live, Godfrey Tame, for your own sakeaswell as

ours. And—and—l beg your forgiveness for the pain and distress we must have caused you. And now,” she eld out- her. hand, ■ “will' you shake nands with me ? This must. be our lasi meeting. My ' husband would wish it so I know.” , : , • “And like the dutiful, wife you are,” he sneered, furiously, “you submit to his dictates.” Then suddenly, abruptly, “Stella tell me, did you ever see this thing before?’ He flipped open the empty pocket-boof before. her eyes. “No,” she replied, startled, and then “why, yes, I have. You showed it to me thatthat' night, and I told you it was

foolish to carry all those notes about with you. Then I saw it again, empty—broken —as it is now—on the floor— SHE stopped, biting her lip. She had not meant to tell him of that, early morning visit to the flat, but he pounced on her admission. “You saw it when?” he demanded sharply. Stella tried to answer evasively, but he pressed her so that confusedly she admitted her morning expedition. His eyes shone with satisfaction. “That is important,” he said thoughtfully, and then, “Stella, by great good fortune, your husband has escaped the charge of murder, but assault and robbery are also criminal charges.” “Robbery!” she echoed with white lips, and became very still, as a wild thing, which scents danger, waits shrinking for the blow.

. “Yes,” said Tame. “What Frane did in assaulting me in a moment of anger is one thing, but to creep back here to rob the ‘dead’—” . “It is a liea lie!” she interrupted vehemently. “Lester Frane is the soul of honour. When his company failed, he of them all came out of it with clean hands.” “But empty ones,” he reminded her with a sneer. “And that night he was a desperate man—a hunted —and so— there is no room for doubt, Stella,” he added more gently. “You- yourself saw the rifled pocketbook, and my man coming late to the flat met a man hurrying away— big fair chap in brown tweeds’ he described him—” Stella stared at him tragically, white- ‘ lipped, dry-eyed; she had a sensation of being stunned.. She could, not —would not believe this thing of Lester, and yet — yet— he was desperate was hunted or would be —she herself had urged his flight, and yet fool that she had been, had forgotten that he was almost penniless. His pride would not suffer him to ask her for money, and so he musthe must —ah, no ! no ! that could not be— She wrung her slender hands together, and then her eyes fell on the empty pocketbook she had seen filled on that night when she had come with Tame to his flat; and there was the testimony of Tame’s man—oh, it, was all too overwhelming for doubt. IN that moment she believed her husband guilty, but with that belief rose up a flood of passionate, protecting love for him. She would have fought the world on his dear behalf, and she turned now to Tame with white lips, but steady eyes. “You have no proof,” she said, “no evidence that either of us was here.” “Have I not, Stella?” he murmured, with his hateful smile. “But you left a little memento.” Out of an inner pocket he drew the gauzy pink and silver scarf, and flashed it before her eyes. “Mine!” she gasped, with dilating eyes, and snatched at it. “But no, he said, smiling and shaking his head as at an impetuous child. “My lady’s favour,” he continued mockingly, “See, I wear it next my heart.” He refolded it with meticulous nicety, and replaced it in his pocket. Suddenly she fell to pleading. “Give it to me. Ah, give it to me, Godfrey Tame.” “I regret, madam,” he said mockingly again, “to cross your lightest whim, but this pretty thing is too important a witness in the case for the prosecution.” “It cannotcannot —” she swallowed painfully, “prove a thing against my husband. It— can prove only that I was here in your rooms.” “And do you imagine,” he said, “that your husband would suffer that fact to be published to clear himself?” “I—l will swear I was herealone —with you,” she whispered doggedly. A look of wonder, of unwilling admiration, and then a sudden spasm of furious jealousy flashed across the man’s face. “Would you do that, Stella?” he demanded. “Hold yourself up to slander — smirch your good nameruin your career —all for—for that barbarian, Lester Frane?” “I would do that—and more—for my husband.” Stella answered steadily, “for I love him—why will you not understand ?”

No one else counts at all, except Lester.” Tame gave an impatient cry. “HPHEN do you love him enough to save him from the dishonour of the felon’s dock?” he asked sharply. "What do you mean?” she flashed at him, and he answered soothingly: “Come, Stella, let us look at this thing squarely. I love you—l adore youno, don’t speak—l am mad about you, lovely little thing of fire and dew and celestial voice that you are. Forget Lester Franc. He is no mate for you. Come away with me, Stella, my own. Think of it; you and I in some far land of sunshine and song, working out your career together. Save your husband from the consequences of his mad act. He might have ten thousand times what he had robbed me of, and I would count it cheap if it only won you for my own. Don’t spoil your career for him— wife of a convicted thief —” His eyes were flashing, his nostrils dilating, his whole figure trembling now with the vehemence of his passion as he took a step towards her with outstretched arms. The girl had stood silent with amazement and horror at his passionate outpouring, but now, evading the clasp of his outflung arms, she cried hotly: “How dare you speak so to me? If Lester Franc were a criminal doubly-dyed, he is my husband and the man I love. You must be mad—mad—to dream I could ever care for you—” CTRUCK by the look in his narrowed dark eyes, she faltered into silence and retreated to the window, breathing quickly. “If—if you touch me.” she cried with shaking breath, “I’ll throw myself from this window—l swear it —” At that he sprang forward and snatched her into his arms, drawing her away from the window; but she was young and strong, and wrenched herself away, .panting, trembling, while he gave a little shaky laugh. “No use to look at the door, Stella, it is locked and the key in my pocket,” he sneered, and again advanced and laid his hand upon her wrist. With all her strength she struck at him, and saw his dark face, grey-white with passion, turn suddenly to a leaden blueness, while his lips drew back from his teeth in an agonised grin, and his hand groped feebly at his breast. Stella heard the sharp intake of his breath, half gasp, half moan, and anger was swallowed up in womanly compassion. “You are ill,” she cried. “What can 1 do for you?” “Vestpocket he gasped, and slipping her hand into his pocket, Stella drew out a little silver-stop-pered phial. He shook out a pellet or two and crushed them over his mouth and nose, and then sank into a chair, his head bowed on his breast. —be—careful —” he muttered, and Stella saw with infinite relief that he appeared to be recovering. Trembling with excitement, she moved inch by inch to the door; for in that vest pocket also she had found his latch-key, and slipping it into the lock she opened the door silently, and slipped out. When he raised his head she as gone. It was only as she was going down the stairs that she remembered that her scarf had been in an inner pocket also. TT was with a feeling of utter dcso- -*• lation that Lester Frane turned away from his wife’s door and went into the night, a guilty fugitive. He was to slink away in obscure dens and avoid the sight of men, he, who had held his head high, and looked all

men in the face in the pride of his honourable manhood. r Far better, he thought, if he had followed his first impulse, called in the doctor and the police after sending Stella away, and given himself up. inventing some plausible tale to account for the quarrel between himself and Tame. At all costs he would have kept his wifes’ name out of the business; she need not have feared. He gave a little mirthless smile of contempt as he thought of her imploring eyes, the agony in their grey-blue depths, the feverish clutch of her trembling hands, as she begged him to fly to save her honour, regardless of his own. Well, so it must be. For the present he must hide, and future events must determine his course of conduct. He could not leave the country, as Stella had urged him to do, for two very good reasons. First, he had no money. Stella, in her hurry and excitement, had forgotten his need of that, and he knew he would never have accepted her money if she had offered it. Secondly, he would not go while there was any possible fear that suspicion of having any connection with the murder of Godfrey Tame might fall upon his wife. Others beside himself had probably seen Stella drive away with Tame that fatal night; others knew the friendly intimacy which had existed between the two. Suppose if he were far away and Stella were in trouble alone, defenceless, at bay. No, there must be no chance of that. He felt that in her hour of need he would break out of earth’s deepest dungeon, fight his way across a world of hostile foes to stand by her side, and take her trouble upon his own broad shoulders. His beautiful girl! How he loved her! How he had suffered in his inarticulate devotion, in the love that was stark and rugged and so closely woven with his being that it had none of the graces of act and expression that a woman like Stella looked for and expected. Yet she had loved him once. Even now he dared to hope that she loved him in her way. Her clinging hands and tear-wet kisses, the trembling cry on her lips as he pressed her to him in that last silent farewell, surely they meant love. If ever this hideous entanglement into which Fate had betrayed them were smoothed out. Franc hoped for the opening of a better and more understanding life for himself and Stella. Comforted in spite of his desperate situation, he went his way and sought out cheap lodgings in an obscure part of the town. There he stayed in hiding for two days; like Stella, he dreaded and yet feverishly longed for the papers and was astonished that no mention of the affair at Carlington Mansions appeared. Being a man, and an unimaginative one at that, he did not look at the “Personals,” as a woman would have done, and so missed Tarnc’s mysterious messages. A T the end of the second day, no account of the affair having appeared, his reason began to work. It was surely impossible, he reflected, that such a thing could have gone undiscovered so long; there were other people occupying the rooms by day. Tame had a servant, no doubt. A hope made his heart quicken; perhaps after all he and Stella had been mistaken in thinking Tame dead. He resolved to go that night to the flat and clear up the mystery. For Stella’s sake he must be cautious, and not betray himself in any way. He resolved to wait until the building should be empty of its business occupants. So. late that night, his cap pulled low on his brows, he set out for Tame’s flat. (To be continued.)