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HEART AND SWORD.

By JOHN STRANGE WINTER,

CHAPTER XXXI,

Author of " Bootle's Baby," '' Beautiful Jim, " A Magnificent Young Man,'" " A Born Soldier,'.' " The Colonel's "Daughter," " The Soul of the Bishop," " The Other Man'» "Wife," " Regimental Legends," " Cavalry Life," " Strange Story of My Life," " H« Went for a~Soldier," " Mignon's Husband," ttc.

[COPYRIGHT.]

RELUCTANCE. JEN Gifford Cox asked Kit if she had heard the news she rose up hurriedly, her face full of concern, her eyes shining with infinite pity and dismay. "Oh, Gifford!" she said;

" Oh, Gifford, I am so sorry — I am so sorry ! "

He looked at her in absolute astonishment.

" You are sorry ! " he exclaimed. " But why? Dick Hamlyn is one of the best fellows I ever knew in my life ; his family is irreproachable, he is extremtly wealthy, he is good-looking, he is madly in love ; what more would you have? "

" But you? " she faltered

"I?" A little smile crept about the corners of his clean-shaven mouth. "My dear, were you thinking that I had an eye to the radiant Violet? " " Of course I was."

The smilo deepened into a laugh. " How well I must have played my part,' ho said. "Is it possible that I deceived c\ r e.n you? Why, my dear, my dear, did you think that I was .shamming that night on the way down to Hampton Wick? Did you think that I did not mean every word that I said? Did you dream for one moment that having loved the sun, I would be content with the mere reflection? Oh, how little you have seen, or how well I must have played my part . " " You caro for me? " she breathed incrcdulouslv.

" la it likely that a man who had cared once for you would look at another? Oh !" he exclaimed, as she shrank back and put her hand involuntarily over her eyes, "Oh, forgive me, forgive me ; I said it without thinking — or rather, I spoke for myself! Well, having broken the ice, I will say all that is in my mind. Kit, dearest, my own and only love, I spoke for myself only. I have loved the sun, and only the sun will satisfy me in the future. We cannot all love the same thing, we cannot all hold the same ideals. I have never spoke of Alison to you before. He could not have loved you as I do ; he was content in a life that Buffocated me" -He loved soldiering better. tMq &Q«."

put in Kit, "but not so well as the other

"Well, that's as it may be; in any. case, it is no use, although I have held my tongue all these months, although I have never hinted a word of my desires, have never spoken of Alison, never, so far as I know, alluded to the past in any way whatsoever, it is no use for you and me to be shamming., with each other and making believe that there is nothing between us. I was not sure that you cared for me until a few days ago."

"And what told you then"

" I can hardly tell you — a look, an inflection of your voice — a something that told me that I had not loved in vain all these hard and trying months. Oh, Miss Violet is very pretty, and she is very bright and winsome, and Hamlyn is gone, clean gone, but she attracts me no more than the little kitten, which gambols about the' floor, attracts me beyond the moment while I watch it play."

" And I " she began. "You? Kit, you and I were made for one another ; you and I came into the world twin halves of one soul. It was a mistake that you married Alison — mistakes are made every day in that way ; you know that it was thfe greatest mistake either of you ever made. It is hard, almost impossible, to believe that Alison, did not appreciate you when he had you, but that is his nature. He is no more responsible for that than I am responsible for liking you better than Violet Alison."

"And you really love me?" Kit asked. '" No," he said, " I adore you ; I worship you ; I idolise you. Love, is too poor a term."

" But do you think," she said, still incredulous of her own good fortune. "do you think that you will always feel the same? Don't you think that there is something about me that makes a man tire? Gregory said just the same as you say — he could not live without me. He wanted •to go to India making sure that I was safe — that nobody else would come along and steal the jewel that he coveted. Don't you think that if— if you were married to me — you would feel the same that he felt 9 " »I don't. I am certain that I should not. Alison and I are wholly different in temperament ; you and I have every jnterest in common. With Alison you .had every interest in contradiction. Your life obliges you to keep in London, his was to drag about in country quarters;- your interests lie chiefly with unfashionable people^ ' his — well, a soldier's chiej< interest is in country house invitations 7 big shoots, the notice of Royalty, a"hd the apex of his ambition is being commanded to dine and sleep at Windsor. You both had your apex together — he in being commanded to dine and sleep at Windsor, you in being commanded to play there — but up to that point the road is wholly different ; you only met each other there. And as hewas never commanded to dine and sleep, and you were never commanded to play, your roads — the ways of your interests — never met."

" But — but — " she began, " Gifford, has it ever struck you. did you never think, that you have fixed your affections upon a woman who is not free? " "I never forget it," he replied. '• Shall I ever be free? " ' " Surely ! ' '

" Not so sure. Do you know that there is never a clay that I don't think what a dreadful course lies before we — that 1 have to go into court and ask for my husband to come back to me, ask him to take me back — to sue for it as a right." "It is a mere technicality.' 1 he said. _ "Oh, but is it? Think of the humiliation ! Gifford, I assure you Hiat sometimes when T wake in the night and think about it I could find ir- iri my heart to wish that he — that he had* struck me."

"My dear, you toke too literal a view altogether : it is a mere question of technicality, a means of satisfying t)ie law. It is the only road to freedom, the only door by which you can reach the haven of happiness."

"It would cost so much to open ir," said she.

" Well, that may be so, but the cost will buy so much happiness for us both ; and you must try to look ahead and flunk of the happiness in store, not of the mere disagreeable necessity of the moment. To me the greatest drawback is that, in any case,' we must wait so long." ''I feel." said she, trying hard to spt-ak in a natural and indifferent voice. " I feel as if J were wronging you to allow that there is any possibility of happiness for us ; I feel as if I were doing a mean and craven thing all round when I allow that I — at least when I let you think that I will one day marry you. Do you mean that?' 1 .

" Oh, my dear, how can you ask me such a question ! "' he exclaimed, reproachfully. " You arc not kind when you imply a doubt of that sort. You know that my only aarthfy- hope i.-' that I may one day marry you ! As for being mean all round — nothing you could do would be mean to Alison ; he has deliberately '>ut his bond r^ith you asunder, xnd he leaves it, for" yo" to set yourself and him legally free to form what fresh ties you both* >viLl. He has t. duty before him. You have nob that ; but you have your life to live, and you hare to live Ji, without him. 1 know so well what you are feeling, 1 ' he went or. "You are beset with .some kind of idea that all ;his wretched business is you fault. Cannot you put this out of your mind? Perhaps it was you fault, inasmuch as that you were given up to your art ; so far, perhaps, it was hard upon Alison that he had a, wife whose aim in life was not the same as his own. But it was equally hard upon you ; and you had got so much further in your profession than he had done, or was ever likely to do in his, that the hardship fell more hardly upon you of the two. We would not go about and say, 'We are engaged ; we are going to be married as soon as we legally may be ' — no ; because, I believe, the absurd law demands that you shall have no such avowed intention when you seek the freedom which 3'our husband has already in

morality and in truth given • to .yotfi.) Everyone knows that the " marriage laws and the divorce laws are in an absurb and obsolete state. I would alfer" them.'" he went oil. " Oh, how I would radically alter everything that has to do with -marriage and divorce ! "

" .As how? "

" Well, to begin with, I would have divorce as it stands now, excepting that the cause which allows a man to divorce his wife should be / sufficient for a wife to divorce her husband ; 'and I would Kave annulment with no stigma on either side. I would allow any couple who could provide fot the children of tlieir marriage—, pro ride _ for them in an adequate manner, that they should be brought up in the same sphere in which they had been born —to annul then." marriage with no stigma oji either side. We are told ,that marriages are made in heaven. I have always thought ," he said, speaking very seriousjy, " that heaven has proved itseli a shockingly bad matrimonial agency. I have su ancle who. to my certair knowledge, ha,i not spoken to his wife for years. They ltva in the same house ; £he~ are reputed ays ordinary, reasonable, decent couple ; they anlerlain large house parties, and' talk to each other at dinner ; talk in quite an ' ordinary manner and call, each othei 'my dear' and so on; but. privately^ . they have not spoken ioi years, and I think. thai. my. uncle's wife would take a visit to hey private sitting room as. the. -most deadly-in-sult than he could . offer her. Nov. 7 why do th'c couple go ov living such ii life? Why? Because- tine wife feels thai- ".^she were io leave her husband she would havq the worst of it. He might give -her ever such an income, she would have her title, she would have no shred of blame attached to her name, but she woyld lose in prestige. She would never be they same power living a separate life apart, from" her husband, to whom she never cpeake, aa 'she is while she is the mistress of his house. So they go on. He ha« other interests; she is great on politics and the advancement of women. Poor souls i Dragging at an iron chain from which both would be better free. How much easier and more' dignified it would be could they get an annulment of their marriage — an annulment, as I said, without stigma on eithet side "

" But that is an extreme case,'" said Ki£, " Not at all. I could tell you of a dozen people in as many- minutes whom I know, intimately, who live the lives of cats and dogs ; whose marriages have- proved to be the most, hideous" and ghastly failures. I nave aired my views to my govornoi and to other people, but the ordinary English character is to go on bearing the. il« it* knows of. That was the very phrase h« quoted to me — my governor — 'Bettei; fj ' bear the ills'-^-and tho rest, you" know. He. quoted if wrongly, and I thought ifc would not be, filial to correct him ; and then, he' ended ,,up" by- thanking' C4od .that I was his second son auc-uot his eldest; that as I was never -likely to get into Parliament, I could never* air my ideas and bring the good old -Constitution ot England to rack and ruin. What can you do' with such "people? The laws that ' suited "our fathers must be, the best for them ! That is all their creed. I neve.- argue,'* he ended, " but I keep my own opinions unaltered and unchanged. However, the old mm-iage laws- will have to do for us ; you and I have no choice but ie abide by, the wisdom of our forefathers. Wo must keep our pi-ecious secret a secret from tho world, and — sxist. until the time comes when we are free to proclaim our love broadcast. Till then, I will ask nothing of you, seek no promise, be nothing to you ; and yet, v holding her hand., and looking deep down .into her eyes, *' you .aiid 1 -will know- that deep down in our hearts there is a v/eli of love and truss >vhich is inexhaustible "

" But. Gifford," she said .with an- effort, -" it w that dreadful act of hypocrisy — which you call a mere technicalit}'. I don't believe I shall ever bring myself fee go through it — as I could, perhaps, easily do if I did not know you, and did not wish to be free chiefly because of you '' " Pooh ' Your lawyer will do iv for you. It will all be made so easy, and. under the circumstances, they will he ivei. ,so considerate to you "' ' " Yes, "perhaps ; and yet, i*> have to ask him to take me back again, when I know that that "other woman is there in my place ! It is not that I care, it is not that I want to go back, that I grudge her the place fhe has taken, the love 1 that she. has won — oh, no, believe .me; no • But to have to ask and be publicly refused. I don't thiak I can ever do it ! "

".You will feel differently in time," he said, soothingly. - 1 " No, I" don't think I shall ever feel differently. It deems to me to be such an act of hypocrisy, of falseness that' no good can follow it. And all the world will know that my husband refused me- "

" But when the time is ripe you will not feel .like that. You haven't got over all the pain, the hurt, the humiliation of Alison's leaving you in the way that he did. -It is, as I. told you. while we are all alive, tho only way in which you can open thr door of happiness. In any case," with a change of tone, "we need not decide today. The two full years muse go by before you can ask for release. We have this gay young couple to take oare of and to get married ; we have our provincial tour, and ever so' many other things to do, before we can think' of each other. So, dearest— l may call you that, just for this once— we will put it all on one side for the moment."

It would, be hard t<*- tell exactly how* Kit felt when she once more found herself alone in her own room. All her pulses were dancing with happiness, and yit she was not happy. She was, and she was not satisfied with the turn of events. She was possessed of that terrible scruple that did she obtain her freedom in tht usual way, she would never be fit for human association again. She loverl Gifford Cox with all her heart and soul ; so much so that tC) win him by a lie seemed t<, her to be a' desecration of all that was best and holiest^ in her nature. She could not lookuoonth^

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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW18990601.2.179.1

Bibliographic details

Otago Witness, Issue 2362, 1 June 1899, Page 49

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2,718

HEART AND SWORD. By JOHN STRANGE WINTER, CHAPTER XXXI, Otago Witness, Issue 2362, 1 June 1899, Page 49

HEART AND SWORD. By JOHN STRANGE WINTER, CHAPTER XXXI, Otago Witness, Issue 2362, 1 June 1899, Page 49