LOVE'S DILEMMA:

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVI, Issue 17, 20 January 1905, Page 6

LOVE'S DILEMMA:

08, FOR AN E4|RLDOM.

BY CHARLES OARVICB,

CHAPTER XXlV.—(Continued.)

The dinner was an elaborate one, and admirably cooked, the servants perfect in their noiseless and rapt! attention. Kate., with her good resolution strong upon her, made an effort at cheerful conversation.

"Did you find many old friends at the club?" she asked.

He looked up with a little start, as if he hud been lost in thought. "No," he said, in a low voice, that sounded harsh and strained. "It's not Lhe time of year; London's beastly just now." Kate wondered why he had chosen to come to London if that were so, but ?he said: "1 always picture London as bright and gay at any time, but that's because I Aiow so little about it, I dare

-i I dare say." he muttered, with his yes bent on his plate. Kute made one or two more efforts sis unsuccessfully, then relapsed into sienee, wondering- what could be the .leaning of his changed manner. Ever since the ceremony, she sudlenly remembered, he had been moody "ill preoccupied; and his manner had become almost sullen. Was he ill, or jjJ he heard bad news? And this was her wedding night! The dinner glided on its noiseless •vay. Kate ate very little, and Lord .arr-Lyon paid more attention to his :!ass than his plate; the butler seemed •ways serving him with champagne. But all things come to an end if one n but wait long enough, and pre- ■ illy the dessert made its appearance, i.id the footmen left the room The tv7o-,bride and bridegroom— sat n silence for a minute or so; then Mite, forcing herself to speak, said: "Are you very tired?" lie looked up sharply. '•Xo! Why should I be?" "I—l did not know," said Kate: "T i hought you looked tired or ill, or as if -oa had heard bad news." He Voiced up again, more' sharply ,han before, and eyed her suspiciously. What do you mean by bad news?" v said sul enly, with a kind of smnth-l-ecl ferocity, and the face that hid rrown flushed with the wine turned pale '■'.' n moment. * oa n "° + not know—l meant nothing" • Kate, coolly: "nothing but what I •aid. \ou seemed thousrhtful » lam thoughtful. I've got sometMnfo be thoughtful about" he broke iS ;'owly. and as if ] le were keepfn/ a ruard upon his words. "I suppose t mani ought to be g ay and jo llv ? o* h£ wedding day. oughtn't he?" Kate remained silent. Her heirr Kate remained silent More «,„„„. ;iS»°™S

"You cans to know, what you are sar£h I "?a *™ Voice: 9lle tr ied 4- for a Mert ° r '■I.don't wnat to insult you," he said. 'Look here I' m go lng down to tie ctaitf joi haJf an hour. Wait up tiU I come back. I vrant to speaJc to you." The fact was that he had not suffiMently brewed hi* courage up totiie stan mg-pouit for the scene he had been floating over all the day long: h e must have yet mare drink, and lie was (ashamed to get it Lα her presence. The beautiful face, the queenly form" opposite, cowed and queJled him After another bottle of champagne he should be fit to talk to her..

Kate made no a.ttempt to stop him, and he left b} le room; she heard him go over the -hall and the street door dose after him.

She sat motion Jess as a statue for half an hour, her brain whirling, lier senses eonfiw*dly striving to realise the situation.

It was iher wedding ni<rht, and her hus-b-md had behaved like a madman, and left her without rhyn> or reason. And yet, had he no reason? Had he learnt when too late that she hod been simply bought and sold; that she disliked and distrusted him all through, and that her father had. forced her into this marriage?

She leant her head upon her ■ hand, and sat bowed over the table with a heavy, aching heart.

An hour passed, and she rose at last a<nd w-ent into the drawing-room. How long she sat there, looking into the slowly dying embers of the fire, she never knew; but the house had long been quiet when she heard his step in the hall.

He came in, liis hat in hie iiojid, hds light overcoat still on, and stood in the centre of the room, looking at her.

He had had the otiher bottle of champagne, but he was still sober enough

Author of "The Marqaia," "A Martyred Lore," "A Woman's Seal," ' "She Loved Him," eta

to understand and execute his purpose. "Oh, you are here still?" he said. "You wished mc to wait for you," she said. "You had something to say to mc."

Her voice sounded strange in her ears, as if it belonged to some other person, and not to her, Kate Meddon. "Yes, I had," he retorted, wfuh sullen and suppressed fury. "You and I have got to have an understanding tonight !" Kate made no response but she fixed her large eyes upon him in proud patience.

I He flung his hat on to a ohair, and ' leant against the mantel-shelf, his hands thrust into his pockets, his face —flushed and pale by turns —turned toward her, his eyes looking at her with jealous anger and suspicion, and yet with a reluctant, senile admiration. Xever, since he had first seen aer had she looked so lovely, more to ba deI sired, than she looked to-night to the wretched man who owned her, and was about to fling her away from- him. "I suppose you have bean laughing in your sleeve ail the time," he said. "I suppose you have been sheltering yourself upon having succeeded in mol-.:ng a perfect fool of mc. haven't you?" ii« demanded. "Oh, I know you. lon can't deceive mc! You look like a—a saint, as if earth wasn't good enough for you. or a king wasn't fit for you. But wait a bit. I'm not such a food as you take mc for—you or that father of yours! I'll show you presently that you haven't got ail the laugh on your side, either of you." . "I do not understand," Kate said, in a low, clear voice. "You don't, but you will. Come, answer mc a plain question. Did you or did you not marry mc for my money and title?" * . A deep crimson stained her face, ana for a second her eyes fell. WjJs it not the truth—this he had said in a question? , , "Can't you answer?" he demanded, with a sneer. "You won't tell a lie, I suppose? Did you or did you not marry mc for my money and title?" "I will not answer you," she said, with an effort.

He laughed hoarsely. "No, you can't, unless you answer 'yes.' I'll answer for you. You did marry mc for my money and title; you, or rather your fs*her, wanted you to be the Countess of Carr-Lyon, and he. if you did not, wanted some of the money. That's why you married mc. You can t deny it."' "I will not answer you," she said again as before. He glowered down at her. "But it's true, and you know it, or if you don't I can make it plain to you. Do you know how much I am to give your father for you? Do you know, eh, or shall I tell you?" Her face whitened, and she put her hand to her forehead with a dull sense of b?ing overwhelmed. "How much?" she said vaguely, indistinctly "Yes. how much?" he repeated, with brutal emphasis. "What was the price 1 was to pay in hard cash? If you don't know, I'll tell you. It was first ten, and then fifteen thousand pounds." "Ten, fifteen ' she murmured. "Thousand pounds I was to pay your father," he said, slowly and distinctly. "That's the amount. A good price even for such a treasure as you," and he sneered. "Do you think Tm teeing you a lie?" She had thought so, but at the question she raised her eyes and looked at him, and saw—Heaven knows how!— that lie was speaking the truth. She hid her face for a few moment?, and something seemed to shoot through her heart.

All along she had known that her marriage would save her fatber, but that she should have been bought and sold in this shameless manner—that aj actual sum should have been agreed upon —was too horrible! The blood seemed to burn hot as five in her checks as sbc hid them in her hands. He laughed, and his c-yes grew red with fiendish'delight- She had scorned him: she had treated him with cool indifference 'and dislike. It was his turn now. and his inninge was only .lust commencing, too. "My proud beauty, I'll have you at 'my feet presently!"' he said to himself. "You believe mc." he said, aloud. "You had better, for it's time! That is the amount, brat it isn't paid ret." And he chuckled. "You are my \vif.\ but your father hasn't aot ury money ytt. Whether h(: ever v ill or not depend; w-r> you." She sat motionless and silent. She did not ask him what he meant; it is a question whether she heard him. 'Do you hear what I say?' he demanded! "You'd better pay attention;

I'm not talking at random, and I knov? what I'm talking: about. It depends upon you. You're my wife, you know, and husband and wife are one—so they say. You shaii decide whether I pay him or no —whether I can pay him."

There wai silence for a moment or two. He took out his cigar case and lighted a cigar, and smoked it with a deliberate air.

It was an insuli, this smoking, unasked, in her presence, and she felt it, as he intended that she should feel it, just as a man in his death throes might feel the sting of a gnat. "And now ar» you happy? You are a countess, the vAfe of a great man. and you can put ■ fifteen '"thousand pounds— if you like—in your father's pockets! You ought to be happy!" She did not speak. "But I have not done with you yet! I've got another question to ask you! Please pay attention. Do you know a man called Clifford Raven."

Kate did not start or spring to her feet, but her hands dropped from her face, and she looked at him with a dull, vague questioning. The sound of the name had gone through her heart like an arrow. It had called up the vision of the man she loved, and he stood before her, compared with this brute in human form, as an angel of goodness. "Come," he said; "pull yourself together, and answer my question; I made myself plain enough. Do you know a man called Clifford Haven?"

She waited a moment, then she rose; and it was like the rising of a statue tortured into life.. . -

"Why do you ask?—why do you insult mc?" she said, her hand pressed against her heart.

"Insult you?" he repeated, with a sneer. "Is it an insult to ask you if you, know a man. Wait till you are insulted,

if you please. Come, drop that theatrical business, and answer my question. I've got a right to ask it. I'm your husband, you know. Do you know Clifford Raven? Wait," and he held up his finger, "just think a moment if you're going to—tell a lie," he was going" to say. but even to him at that moment of 'blind, brutal passion such a speech seemed ridiculous, addressed to that queenly form. "Just think and consider a moment if you mean to try and hoodwink mc, for I tell you straight and beforehand that I've got the whole thing clear, and that you can't deceive mc. Now. then, do you know a man called Clifford Raven?" "I do!" she said, her bosom heaving, her eyes flashing under their long lids. CHAPTER XXV. "ABE YOU MAN OR DEVIL?" '"I do know Clifford Raven!" said Kate, meeting the gaze of his bloodshot eyes with steady firmness, and resolving, even as she spoke, that she would tell the whole truth; let him rage and bullystrike her, even; she would tell him the whole truth. "Oh, you do!" he said, in a tone of malignant triumph; "and what do you know of him?" "What do I know of him?" she repeated, not to gain time, as he suspected but that she might think where to begin' "ies, what do you know of him?" he repeated "How is it you never men* tioned his name to me—never talked about him?" "Why should I talk about him?" she began; then she flushed. ;* ff kw w hy she had never spoken ot Clifford Raven—because he was too citen in her heart to be upon her lips ' 1 did not wish to speak of him," she said "Wait!" she added, for he opened his lips as if about to retort savagely. i will tell you everything " '•You had better!" he growled f n j S' 1 ' 1 conce f l nothi "g- I saw Clifford Raven a few months ago. I met him in a lane first; afterwards he came to my father's house -" ■ ' Arthur Carr-Lyon started; even yeMie did not know what part the major had been playing, and was slill playing. He !S.* breatU - s -Pe-e and "I saw him then for a few minutes I met him on the cliff the next morning again, for a few minutes, and •• she hesitated, and a sudden flush rose to her white face; "I saw him again the night of the ball at Lydeote." "And is that all?" he demanded. "Those are the only occasions I have seen him," she said. "And you expect mc to believe you?" he said, with a sneer. Her eyes flashed, and she seemed to grow taller and tower above him. "Lord Carr-Lyon " "Oh. that'll do," he said, mockingly. "We won't have any high-faluting; it's too serious for that. And that is al. you know about him, is it? Do you mean to that you are not in lov. with that fellow—with the man you've only met three times?" The scarlet shone in her face, then lei , it pale again. "I will not answer a question meant to be an insult," she said. "I am youi wife " s "You are," he assented, with brutn' emphasis. "You can save yourself Jho trouble of answering; look at that," and he took the half-sheet of dirty notepaper which he had picked up "on the terrace, and tossed it across to her. She hesitated a moment, then stooped and picked it up. For a few seconds the lines seemed to bear no meaning for her; then, as it broke upon her, she trembled, flushed, and stood with the dirty paper crushei , in her hand. "Well?" he said. "Is it true \?hai that paper says?" and he fixed his eyes fiercely on her. "Has this Clifford Raven ever made love to you?" "He has," she replied, and the words were scarcely audible. His hands clenched, and he seemed almost as if he were about to start forward and strike her; but theTe wa? something po full of dignity in her tall upright figure, in the lovely, downcasface, that his hands opened and fell at fis side, powerless. '■You—you are a pretty young lady." he said, between his teeth. "And they all think you the embodiment of—o< purity, and all that. By heaven, you nrc a bad Jot!" She slowly raised her head and looked at him. n steady glance of scorn ami contempt. '•You lei him make love to you— then? Before you had promised "to be my wife, or after—which?" "Afu-r." she said, steadily. He laughed with mad, impotent ra?p '•You did! You Ist this fellov.- you.! only three times, as you tell i?y< make Jove to you. knowing tlia* vo\; had promised ro marry .mc! And you can puuul fhci-e and tell rn<?:" '"I smM ! ivcrnli] 'oil tlji.' truth; I will rlo so," <>? .-.-i.i. in a very low, stern '■You'd better." he retorted, significantly. '-You'll pain nothing by kcßPin,? anything back. I know much more tLan you think, my—my pure-minded, innocent girl!"

And he laughed, with an evil sneer. "And you cared for this man?" he asked, with sudden pallor. Her eyes did not flinch, but she diil not answer for a few moments; then she sternly said:

"That is «i question you have no right to ask, Lord Carr-Lyon. You m&y forget that I am your wife—l cannot.' .

"You have answered," he said, wit!suppressed fury. "You have told mc quite enough. You let this man make love to you. and—and loved him"—he clenched his teeth—"all the while -you were engaged to mc? Why didn't you throw mc over, and go to him?" The bitterness of death seemed to pass across Kate's spirit. Why had she not done so? Why had she not broken off her hateful engagement, even if she still mistrusted Clifford, whom she had seen, five minutes after he had left her, wiping the eyes of another girl?

She would have been free, at any rate —free from this hateful bondage which was worse than African slavery! "You don't answer," he said. "I'll tell you;' because it was too good a thing to throw up; because you had set ycl;r mind upon being a countess, and marrying well, and I was too good a match to let slip; that's why. And you've done it, haven't you? You thought I should never know anything about it, didn't you? That you'd be able to fool mc to the end «f time? But you were mistaken, you see. II is you who have been fooled—you and your scoundrel of a father."

, And he laughed, with malignant triumph.

• Kate quivered in -every limb under the taunt-

"I had no wish.to deceive you. Lord Carr-Lyon," she said. "I told "you when you asked mc to be your wife that I did not love yoni; I have never expressed any affection for you. You

have said more than once that you bad bought me——" the tears were near her eyes, but they did not fall—"but even though I suspected it, I meant to do my duty. To-day"—her voice gui- ' vered—"l had resolved I would do my best to make you happy, that I would keep the vow 1 made at God's altar—" she stopped,, breathless and speechless.

He looked at her with fierce incredulity..

"And you tihink that I shall believe it, that you can impose upon mc with that twaddle, do you, after deceiving mc as you have done? You must be a greater fool than ever you thought mc. But wait: I haven't done with you yet. Wiho is this Clifford Raven, the man you are in love with. Lady Carr-Lyon?" "I do not know." she said. '"'He was a friend of my father's " He started slightly. —'"'I know nothing more." . "And you loved a man you know nothing about, eh?- WeJl," I'll tell you who he is," he said, drawing a long breath. "I'll tell you who this man I s * you've thro»vn over to marry mc. His name isn't Oifford Raven at all." He spoke slowly, as if he were endeavouring to prolong the torture he had prepared for hex; and she looked up, heavily, and without curiosity. "It is a false name, and is no more his than mine is; not So much," h« said, with a little laugh, "for his name happens to be Carr-Lyon!" Kate pushed her hair from her forehead, with a weary gesture. The scene, the excitement, were telling upon her after the long and trying ordeal of the day, and she longed for rest and peace, for a climax of some sirt, let it be what it might. What did it matter to her whether Clifford Raven was living under an assauned name or not? '•'Do ycuhear?" he said. '"His name 13 Carr-Lyon'—Desmond Carr-Lyon — and he is niy cousin." She did allow a faint expression of surprise to creep into her weary eyes. "Your cousin?" my cousin. I have not seen him for years. He disappeared. No one has seen him, except your father. nd he saw him die, and helped to bury him!" "Die? Helped to bury him!" she repeated, dully. He nodded, biting his lip and watching her keenly for the moment when he should strike the blow and crush her. even though in doing so he should bring a-bout his own ruin. "Yes; there can be no mistake about tha.t, because you father swore to it. Swore before a magistrate that he had seen Desmond Carr-Lyon die, and had helped to bury him with his own hand!" She put her hand to her brow. '•'What of this?" she said, with weary bewilderment. "Why do you tell mc this?" "Because I am going to tell you who Clifford Raven i≤; because I am going to prove tha.t it is you who are fooled, not I, clever as you think yourself. Do you know why your father perjured himself?" She shook her head, and sank on to the couflh. He drew a little nearer, and bent down, glancing, as he did so, toward the door and round the room, as if he feared the very wills might have ears. "Because Desmond Carr-Lyon, m 3' cousin, is older than I am, and stands between mc and the earldom!" Sflie did not understand even then, but looked at him dully. "Don't you take it?" he demanded, hoarsely. "Wake up and realise it. I tell you that Desmond Carr-Lyon stood between mc and the title; tha.t he stands so still; that he is the Eaal of Carr-Lyon!"

She clutched the arm of the couch, aid her ej'es grew wider.

"Now you understand!" he exclaimed, gloatingly. "You realise it now! This man, Clifford Raven, whom you threw over for mc, is the real Earl of Carr-Lyon, and I—the man you have been clever enough to marry—your husband, «nd a mere nobody?' as poor as

thurch mouse, and up to my neck in 'ebt! Now, who "is the fool, Miss Fvute, mc. or you and your clever fa'her!" and he laughed sardonically. Kate rose, pressing her hand to her bosom.

The loss of the title never for a moment troubled her; it was not t.hnt which speined choking her, but the villainy of this man and her lather, who had eorisr.irrd to rob another ;nnn of his birthright.

Arthur Carr-Lyon watched her. his teeth set. his eyes glowing malignantly.

"You don't disbelieve mc?" lie said. ''You'd better not: it's the truth. I am no more the liarl of Carr-Lyon than one of thp footmen here, and you are no more the countess than the cook or the housemaid," and he laughed. "Oh. it i.9 horrible, horrible! 1 ' she breathed at last, falling back end hiding her face from him. He laughed again; it was almost worth being ruined to be able to triumph over her. "Yes, I should think you were rather cut \\]>." he said, thrusting his hands into his pockets and looking down at her with keen, lingering "It is rather a sell, isn't it, to find that you have married the wrong man; that if you'd only acted square and straight, find stuck to the man you fancied, you'd have been in reality "the Countess of Oarr-Lyon: whereas you are merely Mrs Arthur of that family. Rather a difference, you'll find it." and he sneered. "I'm as poor ss a church mouse, as I said; I'm in debt, and if I'd got any money of my own I'd have to pay Desmond for all the money IVe spent* while I've had the title. * His money his title!"

She did not speak. She -was slowly realising it all. though dark and insoluble a 3 yet seemed the reason, on her father's part, for such villainy.

"But, though that's bnd enough," he went on, with brutal distinctness, "T nmnot in such a complete mess as your fatheri" She looked up suddenly, fearfully, and he laughed and shrugged his shouiders. "Perjury like that of which the old man has been guilty is rather awkward, and they give it to them pretty hot for it! Seven or fourteen years' penal servitude, at the least, I should say." She bent forward, breathing heavily. "Perhaps they'll make it seven years. [on account of .his age! He'll say he made a mistake, of course: but they won't listen to that, because, as you say, he saw Clifford Raven a few'months ago, and, of course, must have known we were keeping him out of the title. Yes. they'll give him seven years, as sure as fate!" and he laughed. Kate pushed the hair from her face, and stood up, leaning against the mantle-shelf for support. "Are you man or devil?" she now panted. "I was a man, and not a very bad sort, till I met your father, and ff>ll in ' love with you," he retorted, with an ugly smile. "But such women as you make devils of such men as mc, when you play us fake! Ant now, what are

you going to do?" "What—am I going to do?" she gasped hoarsely. He nodded, with an affectation of indifference. "Yes. what are you going to do? iou know the whole truth now; you know that this lover of yours, the man you should have married, is the real earl; are you going to tell him so? Perhaps he knows already?" and he looked at her inquiringly. "But no, I suppose he doesn't, or he would have been down -on us, wouldn't he?" / • She stared at him. Her face went from white to red, and back to white

again. "Look here," he said, "I dro't bear malice, and now I've shown you that you haven't married such a fool as you suppose. 1 don't mind helping you and your father out of this mess. You understand the mess he is in, I suppose? You quite comprehend that they will send him to penal servitude? It's just as well not to mince matters, you know. Well, are you listening?" for she stood so white, so statuesque, that she seemed almost lifeless. "Well, the matter, it seems to mc, rests with you!" "With mc?" her lips formed the words rather than spoke.

"Yes. with you," he repeated, his eyes falling for a moment, under her fixed regard. "If Desmond doesn't know the truth, he soon will, and he will be down on us. We could fight him —I'd fight him to the last breath —but there's a better way than that. If he's so sweet on you, he'd listen to you, perhaps " Her eyes grew more distended, her breath came fast.

"In fact, you'd better see if you can't get the right side of him. A woman like you, with your looks, can do anything "with a man that's fond of her. I sha'n't be particular.";

(To be continued saily.)