NOVELETTE.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 884, 9 July 1913, Page 7

NOVELETTE.

THE OTHER MAN. CHAPTER I. Ladv Tremana stood in the middU of her pretty drawing-room and awaited the coming of her friend, Nina Despard. with risible impatience. The little clock on the mantelpiece had already clumed eight in silvery tones, but the wheel* of Miss Despard' s cflarwt attiH Carried. At last there was » »«Knd jifopening door*, and, w«h a swish at mQun draperies, Nina has tur and looked do»u infriend. 'Nina, fear,* Mid Lady tretnane, bow good of you to come at such short notice.' 'Well, Molly,' said Miss Despard, laughing, *yon sent me such an imperative summons that I could do no less than sacrifice my engagements on the altar of qnr friendship. What domesI ■■ calamity has overtaken you no*;' p. 'More of a calamity than you tciriK. •aid Lady Tremane, in tremulous tones, and when her friend recognised that something serious had happened, she ceased her banter, and, looking kindly at the troubled young face, said gently 'You ihall tell me all about it, dear, and I wfll grre you my best advice. 'Dinner is served, your lady announced the butler, in solemn tones, and the two women went downstairs chatting on indifferent topics, for though hearts be breaking 'Jeatnes' must not be allowed to guess that fact. Although it might hare been possible to cavil at Lady Tremane* s want of appeMi*» Despard, at any rate, did fall justice to the- excellent dinner sent up by the Tremane chef, and throughout the meal she talked gaily of the surprising collapse of Oxford in the varsity match at the Lord's, of the 'Divine Sarah's' wonderful acting, and had sufficient tact not to ask where w«a Lord Tremane. Perhaps she guessed that the absence of ner husband had something to do with Lady 1 remane's heartache, for already there were whispers of discord in the Tremane menage, and she had heard the name of a beautiful Italian singer connected mora than once with that of >ue young earl.

Poor ii t il» Holly! Nina's warm heart ached for her friend a*_she thought of the »uffering which such • nature would inevitably have to bear whan transplanted out of its element, as hers had

Two years ago Molly Carringtoa had bean a simple country child—unconscious of her own beauty, and of her own capacity aimer for love or suffering. Then the awakening had corns. A rich aunt undertook to give her a season in town, and in two months all Loudon was talking of her. Whether "t was her absolute naturalness, or a curious naivete and simplicity she managed to retain, or whether it was merely the beauty of her long-lashed grey eyes, the curve of her white throat, and the adorable dimple in her cheek, it would be hard to say, but certainly Miss Carrington had more admirers than she knew a bat to do with. The girl was no fooi, but she was very young and in experienced, and although her head was not in the least turned by her triumphs, yet she found herself "n deep waters, and none too well equipped for the struggle. Her aunt was a worldly, unsympathetic woman, whose advice the girl shrank from asking, and the gentle old rector in the country, who had brought her up, »js as little able.to solve uer matrimonial perplexities as she herself. Hc**xer, she followed her natural instincts, and let her heart settle the question, and having given the whole of her girlish affection to Lord Tremane, she decided to give him her hand as well. It was, perhaps, not the wisest choice, for Tremane, though deeply in love, had a complex nature, which needed a woman more experienced in the ways of men than Molly to understand. He was of a very ardent temperame»-., but. at the same time, proud to a fault, and little gentle Molly, shy, reserved, and quite unused to the men and women of his world, soon failed to satisfy him. Ha thought her cold and distant, when, in reality, the poor chad was overwhelmed by her love for him, though she was much too reserved to show it.

Ralph was too proud to ask for an affection which tie believed to be denied him. but love was essential to his nature, and when he failed to find it in his wife he sought it elsewhere, treating her always with a gentle courtesy and restraint which made the barrier between them higher than ever.

So the months had passed away, and, as husband and wife grew further apart, *■• ache in Molly's neaxt grew deeper'. Then one day she made a discovery which brought matters to a climax, and, since the trouble was too great to bear alone, she sent for her great friend, Nina Despard, a young woman of much penetration and resource.

When the two girls were comfortable seated after dinner in Lady T remane's boudoir, Molly turned to her friend with tragic eyes. "Nina," she said, " wW should a woman do when she finds her husband has ceased to lore her?"

Make quite sun first thai such is the case, ami then try by erery means in her power to win hun back," answered Ninay. oracularly. "I don't think there is much dou*>t after this," said Moik, handing a letter to her friend. "I found that »'n my husband's coat to-day." Nina took the scented sheet, and with some difficult; read the cramped foreign handwriting. "To know that at last I hare won your lore, my Ralph, is to me joy unspeakable. Yonr coki Englishwomen hare no hearts, but I lore with the paision of the south. Meet me tonight at the usual place, and I will teD yon so myself. Your Teresa." "I should not pay much attention to that," said Miss Despard, airily. "Lord Tremane's feelings "are not necessarilv identical with Signorina Teresa's." "'You know quite well that all London i» talking of his infatuation for her, ' *aid MoDy. her eyes dark with repressed feeling.

"Infatuation," aaid Nina; "ves. bat that is such a temporarv thins. You must distract it, that is all. It is the fashion to nm after the Italian dira; you mnst make the Countess of Tro■nane the fashion instead.*' "What do yon mean " said Jlollv, dashing pink. "I mean this, my dear, that if a uusrband's affection has gone wandering from its lawful possessor, there is no surer wav of bringing it back than for the lawful possessor to go wandering ! too. Yon must show him that others set a value on his wife, even if he has ceased to do io. ,f "I couldn't, Nina," said Moliy. jfmddering. w "Oh, yes yon could," replied Niua, Kcrnly. "Listen, Molly. You do e»re for Ralph, don't yon"?" A glance at the girl's face was answer enough, and, she went on hurriedly: •'Very well then you most do as I say. and in two months' time you will be" the happiest

i woman m England. Now tell me, isn't | Allen Cordeux very much in love with you?;' !•• Jf*~ es ' be nrefcends to „he," said ! Molly, uncomfortably. «• But he is only a boy, and I am always snubbing him. I consider his attentions an insult. •-■•-_ \ Nina laughed. "Oh, my dear you ought to have lived in the Middle Ages. m Most women would be proud of the adoration of such a handsome aud charming young man as Mr. Cordeux. Well, yon must make use of it now. Encourage him aa much as you dare, .and see how Lord Tremane likes it. It I am not mistaken, he will toon forget the passionate Teresa, and then you can give Allen his conge." "That might be difficult," said liolly, slowly. "Difficult," replied Nina, as she rose to go. "Oh, no ; not for a woman. It might be rather unpleasant for the other man!"

I CHAPTER 11. Allan Cordeux was the type of young man rarely to be met with nowadays. I Ha bad been brought up by his moI ther to reverence woman as woman—"to love one only and to cleave to her." In his young mind he.had a high ideal of what his divinity should be, and in Lady Tremane he thought he had found her. There was something in her pure and simple nature which irresistibly apCled to him, and her extraordinary uty completed the charm. ±.ord Tremane]* open neglect of his lovely young wife, and his infatuation for tho Italian woman who had enthralled -e musical world of London, roused all the latent chivalry in him, the young man, and he only longed for an opportunity to prove his devotion to the injured countess. So far, he had had little encouragement, out suddenly, to his surprise and joy, the state or affairs was completely changed. Molly, seeing no other course open to her, had determined to take her friend's advice, and lost no time in setting about it. Very soon the young man was allowed to occupy the position of "cavalier servente," and wherever her fair wistful beauty was seen, there close at hand was. Allen Cordeux's dark, passionate face. He accompanied her evervwhere. dined with her, danced with her, asked no explanation of her sudden favour, content only to be of some service to his goddess, and sure that in the end he would reap his reward. No word of love ever passed between them, but Molly was quite aware of the nature and extent of his feelings for her, and often sighed bitterly as she wondered what the end would be.

Rumours of Cordeux's open devotion to his wife, and of her encouragement of him, soon reached Tremane, and roused all the passionate lore and jealousy of which ho was capable. It was one thing for him to be stung by her indifference into a mad entanglement with a professional singer—it was quite another thing for him to accept the fact that her lore had gone elsewhere, and that hia wife's name was coupled with that of another man. Ralph realised with an intensity that surprised him how much he cared for her, and turned with . disgust from the passionate Southern woman who had enslaved him by the magic of. her voice and the ardour of her caresses.

But Molly was as far from understanding that she still possessed her husband's, love as he was from realising her indifference to the man the world called her lover. She played the game with a recklessness and abandon that surprised even Nina Despard, and that finally proved too much for Cordeux's self-control.

"Molly," he said, one night after a dance, leading her to a deserted corner shaded by palm trees and heavy w..« the scent of "orange Wossoms, "how long is this to go on?" '•What do you mean?" said the girl in a strained voice, shutting her fan with a click.

"I mean that 1 love you, and that 1 want to prore my lore. You do car© for me a little, don't you, dear?" he went on hurriedly. "I could hardly believe my good luck at first, but you hare seemed so glad of my affection—you hare let me be with you so much —you hare even shown me that you care. Last night, at the opera, I could swear that you loved me, and I have been so happy ever since. I did not sleep a wink last night," he added boyishly; "I was planning out our future."

Poor Cordeux! how could he Know that Molly's seeming love had been called forth by the presence of her nusband in a box opposite, listening, she supposed to the strains of his divinity; in reality, watching her with angry, jealous eyes. How could she tell this boy that he was but a catspaw—a means to an end ? And she did care for him, too—not as she loved her husband, and would always love him. alas! but with a real affection that was grateful for his devotion, and that made her despise uersetf for the part she had been playing. What should she answer? Should she take the love he offered her, and try and forget the other? Nina was wrong, she thought, drearily. Ralph would j never come back to her now, and Allen } would always care for her. Of course, there would be a scandal, and a divorce —she shuddered at the idea—but she i could go abroad, and, anyway, her prej sent existence was unendurable. She turned to the young man, who was bending over her with his soul in his eyes. "Do you reaj*se what your words mean?" she asked Quietly—"that 1 am Lord Tremane's wife?"

"He has forfeited the right to call himself your husband," replied the young man, angrily. "Give me th< right, instead darling, and I will make you forget all your unhappiness. The silence that followed was broken by a magnificent voice coming from one of the small drawing-rooms, singing a passionate Italian love song. It was Signorina Teresa. The liquid mellow notes floated out to the conservatory. and froze all that was best in Molly's heart.

"Very well," she said hastily, with an odd numbed feeling, as if her life had suddenly come to an end, "if you wish it." "Molly, Molly, my darling!" said Allen passionately, "you shall never regret it, I swear, and he put his arms round her and drew her face close to him. "Not yet," said the girl hoarsely; vou must wait, Allen." "So I think," said a man's voice out of the darkness near them. Molly grew rick and faint as she re-

cognised Tier husband; but Cordeux sprang to his feet, and put his arm Erotectingly around the trembling gure. "Take your hands off that lady this instant, sir," said Tremane in a voice vibrating with passion. Then, offering his wife his arm, he said coldly: "Allow me to see you to your carriage," and, turning to Cordeux. lie added. "I will come back for a little .conversation with you. 6i'r.'' CHAPTER 111. Molly sat in her room, waitin" her husband's return with a' heating heart and a white, drawn face. What would be the result of the conversation between

the two men? She could not guess; she only saw a vibta of hideous possibilities, which she shuddered to content plate. Looking back at the events of the last few weeks, she realised how grievous had been her mistake. . Not only had she lost her husband's love, but also his respect and that of all decent men and women. Her sin towards Allen Cordeux lay heavy on her conscience, for she knew that she had deceived herself as well as him, and that she could never, under any circumstances, be his wife. Feverishly she drew her blotter towards her, and scribbled a few lines: "Allen," she wrote, "I cannot ask you to forgive me, for J have treated you beyond? forgiveness. I let you low me and pretended that 1 cared for ybu, ' when in reality i have never ceased to love my husband. He will always be the only man in the world to me, in spite of everything. In desperation > agreed to your proposal to-night, but 1 take back my word. I could not do it. We should only be miserable together. The best thing you can do, dear, is to go away and forget me j but if you must think of me, remember me only as your most unhappy and repentant friend, Molly." Then she lay back in her chair and waited for the footstep she loved and yet dreaded to hear. It came at last and Tremane entered the room quietly. His passion was over, and there was only a great sorrow in his eyes. "I have not come to reproach you, Molly," he said. "God knows, my own conduct will not bear looking at. We have made a mistake, you and I, and *~e must pay for it. But, nevertheless, 1 do not mean to drag my wife's name through the Divorce Courts. There is another alternative. You love Cordeux, and if I am. dead you can marry him. Duelling I know is out of fashion ; but "there is something to be said for the way our fathers settled their differences. To-morrow he and I are to meet; just a -simple little encounter with pistols, but it will solve the problem/'

The girl started up with a wild cry, and stood gazing at him with eyes full of horror and despair. "No, Ralph, no," she gasped. "Not that way. I could not bear you to—" "To kill him," interrupted the man with a bitter smile. " You need not be afraid, Molly. 1 have no wish to live. I shall not fire." "You don't understand," wailed the girl, her love for her husband overmastering all else. "It is,you—you that I care for. You must not be killed." TremanOj pale before, went white to the very lips. "What do you say ?" he asked hoarsely. "For pity's sake, Molly, let tnere be truth between us now. There has been enough mußunderstanding. You care for me? Then, in heaven's, name, why did you agree to run away with Cordeux? . "Because I was sick of my life here, said the girl, passionately. "Sick of wanting you, and knowing you belonged to another woman. I only turned to Allen in the hope of bringing you back. ' "A curious plan," said Ralph, forcing himself to keep calm, longing, yet not daring, to believe her words. "1 find it difficult to believe."

With a sudden movement she turned to the table and gave him the letter she had just written to Cordeux. Her husband took it, read it quickly and then, with an inarticulate cry, seized her'and held henin his arms, murmuring, "My wife, my little Mollie, is it really true? Do you love me, after all ?" "I have never loved anyone else.'' sobbed Molly, clinging to him; only you cared for that hateful woman." "You were such a little cold thing," he said, raining passionate kisses on her small white face. "She only captivated my senses, but you, beloved, nave always had my heart." That hour of reconciliation made up to them both for the past weeks of misery, but the thought of Allen Cordeux thrust itself before them both. "Ralph," said Molly, at last, "what shall I say to Allen?" "I don't think you need say any tiling more than you have said, dearest." "But I am not unhappy any longer,'" replied Molly, with a tremulous smile. "He will be the unhappy one now, said Ralph with a smile, for even though he knew he himself had been in the wrong he could not quite forgive the boy for daring to make love to his wife. "I suppose I had better tell him the rest," and after a little thought, he penned a few lmejs and gave them to his wife to read: "Dear Cordeux," the letter ran, "when I parted from you an hour ago, i we had come to the conclusion that matters could only be settled if one of us left the world. Happily for me, however, I have found a new solution of the problem in the fact that Lady Tremane still cares for me, and that it would not add to her happiness for us to fight. Therefore, since her will is law—to you as well as to me-ywe will indefinitely postpone our meeting. We have all been making mistakes lately : let us now try and forget them. — Yours sincerely, Tremane." Ralph rang the bell and gave orders to a sleepv footman to deliver the letters immediatelv to Cordeux. As the door closed Molly turned to her husband. "Poor boy," she said; "I have done him a great wrong.'' "He has to pav the penalty of our mistakes," said Ralph, gravely, but. you must not blame yourself too much, darling; he was in the wrong, too.' "Oh! Ralph, it is like a bad dream." said the girl. "Come to sleep now, sweetheart, whispered the man, "and forget it all. Only remember that to-morrow start again together. Our love will be all the deeper and truer for the past misCordeux himself answered the ring at his bell, and took the letters from the man. He was still in evening dress, feverish and anxious, asking himself over and over again if Molly really cared for him, and wondering if he should live after to-morrow's encounter to make her his wife. To both these questions he found an answer in the letters, and as he read his happy youth, | his tender belief in women, passed away for ever. "You fool!" ho said. "Don't you understand? He was her susband, you were only the other man—Edith Bass.

Faith is believing the dentist when he says it isn't going to hurt. j ILnicker: "So James has a great in-i vention." Booker: "Yes; an nm-, brolla handle that retains the finger print." "Madam, can 1 sell you a vacuum , cleaner?" "No. sir we haven't got j any vacuum in this houße that needs cleaning." A huge car uad just whizzed by, leaving a terrible wave of gasoline be- | hind. "There goes another of them I odourcars," said the joker. 1 Bess: "How do you eliminate l.i« ! scent of onions?" Teas: "Oh, the 1 remedy's simple. I read a story that takes my breath away."