A GOLDEN HEART.

Auckland Star, Volume XXX, Issue 29, 4 February 1899, Page 6 (Supplement)

A GOLDEN HEART.

guard

A NOVEL

By BERTHA M. CLAY

Author of 'Thrown on the World,' 'Wife in Tame Only,' 'Her Martyrdom,' 'Beyond Pardon,' '- True Magdalen,' 'Dora Thome,' 'A Mad Love,' 'The puke's Secret,' 'A Broken Wedding King,' 'Thorns and Blossoms.'

CHAPTER IX,

It wee the evening before bis journey, and Sir ICarl sat ulone in his library-.He would not go to Beaulleu. He couiil not forget his Irritation and afißoyanee fit What Dolores had told him ef the manner in which his choice of the red s?eee had been taken-, it yvas an incident so trivial that he }iad not thought it worth remembering. That the happiness or misery of two lives, his own and Dolores', should have depended upon such a trifle was almost incredible to him. ■While occupied with his sad thoughts he heard the sound of wheels. It was quite late in the afternoon, and he marvelled much who could be calling at that hour. He was still more surprised when the servant came to say that Miss de Ferras would be glad to see him for a few minutes; she had been shown into the morning-room. 'You have forgotten these books, Sir Karl,' said Lola, as the baronet entered the room. 'Mamma thought, as I was driving past, that I might leave them here —she meant at the lodge; but I thought that I might take the oportunity of saying goodbye.' She spoke in a careless tone; but as he took the books from her hand, he saw that the xisual brilliant bloom had left her face, and that it was very pale. There was even a quiver of pain on it. • 'I have something to say to you, she went on presently, then paused, and added impetuously, 'You are not angry? If I had thought you woxild be angry, I would not have come.' 'Why should I be?' He was touched by her emotion. 'You would not seek me, I am sure unless you have something very particular to say.' But she seemed to be in no hurry to speak. Her lips parted once or twice, but the words died on them. He looked at her in wonder. Why should she ask to speak to him, and then stand silent, as though she had nothing- to say? At last, in a low voice, she resumed —

'You said, when you were at" Beaulieu, that you would come over to say good-bye to us, that you would see me again before you started on your journey. Yesterday you wrote to mamma, saying- that you would not have time to call. ' Why did you change your mind? What was the reanon? Why are you leaving without coming near us?!

'I had a reason,' he answered, his face flashing; 'besides which I wrote the $MpW*utl!;'< I had no* thne. I am leaving England sooner than I in* tended^ „ •Wharves*the"reason?' she asked.

'I cannot explain,' he said, proudly. .Do you think any reason would justify your going away without saying farewell to old and true friends like mamma and myself?'

'My farewell was none the less genuine for being written instead of spoken, Miss de Feri-as.' She came nearer to him, and with a passionate cry of pain held out her hands.

'Do you judge me by yourself?' she exclaimed. 'Do you think that a few coldly written words of farewell would suffice for me, even if they did for you? They did not; therefore I am here.'

He had not one word to say. The ■beautiful, passionate face and ringing voice bewildered him. He was not prepared for a scene of this kind.

She laid her hand upon Ms arm, as though she would compel his attention.

'Do you think so little and so-lightly of our friendship that you could go without having seen me again? I could not let you go so; I could not even bear the thought that you should leave England without my having seen .you again. How could you do it? Oh, Sir Karl, how could you do it? .

The dark eyes were drowned ■with tears. Although he did not love her, and never would, he could not help being touched by her sorrow. What man could resist, a beautiful face shadowed with grief, and lovely eyes dimmed with tears for his sake? Sir Karl was but human; he took the white hand from his arm and held it

in his-.

'T am afraid,' she said, smiling through her tears, that, even if I had not had the books for a pretext, I should have come just the same._ Do you think it is very wrong of me to have come?'

Sir Karl looked uncomfortable,

'What am I to answer?' he said, ■with a forced smile. M cannot say that it is right, and it seems unkind to say it is wrongI.'

'Promise me this, at least, that you! will forget what you may think of. the imprudence, and remember only; the —interest in yourself which prdm-< pted me ,to come. Will you promise* me that?'

'Yes.' he replied. 'I may safely promise that. I am sure you meant it kindly.'

He seemed to treat the whole matter as "a friendly interview, and this did not please Lola.

'Kindly!' she repeated, bitterly. 'What a word to use to me! lam not. kind to you. In coming to say goodbye to you, I have been kind to myself.' '

She drew a little nearer to him, her •warm, white hand lying still in his.

'How could you. Sir Karl, be so cruel as to write that note? Tell me honestly, had you no idea of the trouble and sorrow it would give me?'

'I know you are always very good to me,' he replied; 'but I could not possibly think that, the going or coming of a mere acquaintance like myself wouH be of any moment to yon.'

He said this purposely; to show her this was no love scene in which she had forced him. as. it were, to take a part. She withdrew her hand suddenly from his clasp, and stood before him erect and haughty.

'Do you mean that you look upon yourself as nothing but a mere acquaintance—nothing nearer or dearer?

Is that the end of all our happy hours together—a mere acquaintance —while I have been so proud and happy In thinking you my friend?'

He was again somewhat embarrassed. The passion in her face and voice startled him. What was he to do with this impetuous girl? He looked gravely at her. 'The word "friend" is a sacred one,' he said; 'it implies a great deal — affection, fidelity, forbearance, and loyalty.'

'And will you not give those to me? she asked.

There was silence for some moments. He found that, so far from having extricated himself from a false position, he had increased his difficulties.

'That is much to ask,' he answered, gravely. 'I must consider the question in all its bearings.'

'What!' she cried, when I ask you?'

'Do you hesitate

'I do not hesitate. I say it is a very serious question. A pledge of friendship given and taken in that fashion

is as grave a matter as-

He paused; for the words that rose to his lips would, he knew, lead.him into greater complications.

I know what you mean,' she said, with a sigh , and a smile that were irresistible —'you mean that it is as grave as a promise of marriage.'

The splendid, dark eyes raised suddenly to his face seemed to suggest the idea. Why did he not make that? He read the question in one glance, and he felt afraid of himself.

'Of course it is a solemn pledge,' she continued, 'but it is one that I think you need not be afraid of. What can one wish for more than to have a true friend? A man who rejected an offer of friendship would not be wise.'

'I do not reject it, Miss de Ferras.'

The smile that flashed back to him from the girl's beautiful eyes rendered him almost speechless.

'So you say, Sir Karl; but you do not seem to be in any hurry to accent it,'

'I repeat,' he said, 'that you are very good to me. You know what the poet calls friendship—'love without wings.' V"our offer of it may be doubly valuable to me for this reason—l am not what is called a marrying- man. I will tell you in all confidence that I loved once, and most unhappily. I have no heart to give; and, knowing this, I ought to value doubly the friendship of a woman.'

Her face paled at first as she listened; then a gleam of proud defiance came into her eyes, which, if lie had seen it, would have put him on his

'You are right,' she said;' 'if you are never to know the love of woman, friendship is the next best thing. I should not have believed, Sir Karl, that you were one to love in vain/

'I did not love in vain,' he answered, sadly.

'Perhaps,' she said, 'some day, when we know each other better, you will tell me the story.'

'I think not,' he replied, all his former distrust returning. 'The past is buried.'

The gleam of defiance deepened in the dark eyes.

'Perhaps you are right. I shall always respect your confidence, and never ask any: questions. I am glad you have told me this—l shall understand you better. And from now we are to be friends, Sir Karl—from this day constant and fajthful friends, loyal to each other at all times and in all places. Do you consent to this?

How could he resist the sweet, thril-

ling voice.

'Yes. You honour me,' he replied. 'How can I help sealing such a compact gladly?

She placed her hands in his,

'Swear to me that so long as we both live you will b& my true friend.' 'I swear it,' he replied. *

'That in your sorrow you will come to me, and in your joy you will seek me.'

'I promise,' he said, - carried away by her beauty and her enthusiasm.

'You will not think of me any more as Miss de Ferras, but as your true friend Lola? Will you say those words to me?

' My true friend Lola,' he said, smiling ; and the lovely face was almost transfigured with happiness. ' You must promise me that from this very hour I shall take part in your life ; that you will think of me often ; that you will tell me your tastes, your likes and dislikes ; that when you are absent, you will write to me frequently, and that yoxi will provide me regularly with your address, so that I may write*to you. Promise to do this, holding my hand in yours.\

' I promise,' he replied, thinking that her ideas of friendship were very elastic, and then reproaching himself for the thought.

' Now I am happy,' murmured Lola. * Let me tell you—find do not be shocked at fay saying it —that I would far rather have your friendship all my life than the love of any other mam'

' But,' he said quickly, perceiving the danger at once, 'my friendship will not supply the place of love.'

' You do not know,' she rejoined ; ' your friendship is worth more to me than the love of any other man can ever be. Jt makes me the happiest woman on earth, and'it makes earth heaven to me.'

' But, Lola, how am I ever to repay you or thank you ? What am Ito do in return for this wealth of affection that you lavish uspon me ?'

' iou must repay me in kind. You have trusted me ; I will trust you. I like yourself have loved some one so well that, if .that:some one never loves me, I shall go unmarried to my grave. See what comfort we can give to each other! This is the happiest day of my life, Sir Karl.'

' You are\very goo* 1., Lola, to say so. If I have added to your happiness, I am well pleased.'

' You have not added to it; you have made it,' she declared. ' And now. Sir Karl, with the fear of all the offended proprieties, I must go.' Still she held his hand fondly clasped in her own. 'I am so glad I came,' she added, 'I hesitated long about it. It was I who persuaded mamma that those books must be of importance to you. She said, the servants could

take them ; but I told her that as I was passing the lodge I might leave them; and then I did' riot think there would be any harm seeing you for a few minutes to say farewell. I shall always be glad that I came.'

She looked so happy that he could not find it in his heart to reproach her.

4 How long will you be away from England ?' she asked. His heart turned with loyal allegiance to Dolores, for whose sweet sake and for love of whom he was going into exile. He would come

back when he had ceased to love her, but not until then.

' I cannot tell exactly,' he replied,

With undisturbed good humour she asked :

' You will think of me very often when you are away ? 1 wonder whether it will make you any happier to know that one faithful heart will go with you everywhere. Will it comfort you to know that ?'

' Yes,' he replied, almost hating himself because he could not feel more grateful for all this kindness. ' 1 must say good-by,' she said with lingering" regret. ' it is hard .as death —1 have found you only to lose you. Good-by, Sir Karl. Say to me some kind word which will keep my heart warm while you are away.'

' The kindest words I have for you,' he answered, ' are the title you have given yourself—my true friend Lola.' ' When you return will promise to come and see me before you see any one else, Sir Karl ?' ' Yes, I will, Lola ; I can easily promise that.'

' And now it must indeed be goodby,' she said. 'Good-by !' 'Her hand lingered in his; the beautiful face was raised, to his; the dark eyes and fresh, sweet lips invited a caress; but he was resolved that there should never be anything more than friendship between them. He did not touch with his lips either the white brow or the white hand.

'Good-by, Lola,' he said. 'I will see you safely into your carriage.' But as the girl still hold his hands tightly clasped in her own, he saw that tears were falling" down her face.

'It is no pain for you to part with me,' she said. 'To me it is more bitter than death.'

'Nay, not that, Lola.'

'Yes, and more than that. You do not know, you do not understand. Do you think if the pain had not been more than I could bear that I should have come here to see you, have risked so much and dared so much to spend these last minutes with you? If I could tell you all that is passing in my heart now, you would not go

away.' M must go in any case, Lola,' he said, firmly. '.Now let me see you to your carriage. I am afraid it will be dark before you reach home.' She lingered with him as long as she could; the arrangement of the rugs and wrappers afforded an excuse for keeping" him by her side. It was so sweet and pleasant to her that he should interest himself in her comfort. Then the groom took his place, and there was no further excuse for delay.

'Good-by, once more,' sho said. The little ponies started off, and she had seen the last of him.

'He will be mine yet,' she soliloquised. 'I shall win him. How many a heart is caught in the rebound. Who was it that he loved, and loved in vain? 1 wish I had been in that woman's place. How T love him and how foolish I am. Yet I will win. him, if love and patience can do it. People laugh at love and .think it weakness or a girl's sentimental folly. Why, it is the strongest of human passions.'

When she came to think over her interview with him, she was not dissatisfied. She felt n, certain hppe that when he returned it would be to her. She smiled at her own beautiful image in the glass. M must not repine or be dull while he is away,' she said to herself. 'When he returns he must find my beauty fresh and undimmed. When he returns! Ah, Heaven is good, and he will not be long away from me!'

To the day of her death Dolores remembered the close of her wedding —the chiming of the bells at Deeping, the cheers of the crowd, the hall of the old house lined with friends and servants, the pretty group of bridesmaids, with Lola prominent among them, the white hend of her father, the shower of old slippers and rice,