DRIVEN BY FATE,

Lake County Press, Issue 2464, 6 February 1913, Page 2

DRIVEN BY FATE,

PUBLISHED HY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

FLORENCE HOPE,

Author of The Trials cf Madge Moberley," '-Tangled Threads

"The Brown Rosary," &c, &o

(Copyright.)

CHAPTEB XViil —Continued

"Then you don't want to go? I don't know that matters. If 1 wish to take the place, you'll go where I choose to take you," said Grimshaw, coldly. "But surely—" She hesitated, then went on bravely, "Surely I may have my wishes gratified sometimes, and, at any rate, have my say in where we are to live.'* "You accepted me for your husband, your lord and master, will you remember that, please, Phyllis. If the Jefferson's will let Marshlands, I shall take it for six months, and we shall live there," was Dare's reply. "But what about Jack. I—l'don't• mind "or myself, but the easl winds ars so bitter there, -you forget Jack," she pleaded, her lip trembling. "Confound your brother! I've had enough of him; he's not going to share our home, don't think that. He'll have to shift for himself as soon as he leaves the hospital; other fellows have to, and he must work. You don't suppose I'm going to keep him, do you?" said Dare, turning on his wife, sagagely. "But you promised—you promised to do all I wanted for Jack. You know that; you know I married you for that, and that alone. You can't fail me now, you can't break your promises," cried Phyllis, passionately, a cold dread gripping her with agony. "Promises! Faugh! What are they to the woman a man means to marry. I never said that brother of yours was to live with us, and I'll not have it, so understand that, and Jet's drop the subject, please; not another word. Go and change that dress; the colour doesn't suit, you, and don't put it on again. You have plenty of others, and you have to clothe yourself to please my taste, not your own." Dare carefully selected a cigar from his case, and slowly lit it, taking no more notice of his wife. This was the particular manner that roused Phyllis to passional revolt. She went out of their sittingroom at the hotel, and into her own "room, or rather hers and his, locking the door behind her. "I hate himl I hate him!'' she whispered through her clenched teeth. "I want to go to Jack. I feel that he wants me. What can I do? What can I do?" She was so helpless, for though he bought her clothes and jewels and costly knick-knacks, he gave her no money she could call her own, and she never had so much as a franc in her dainty gold purse that hung as an empty ornament from her waist belt.. She suddenly came to the resolution of writing again to Dr. Branscombe, and asking him if he would give her permission to come and visit her brother, whom she was yearning to sec. Yes, she would do that. So she wrote the letter, and was on her way to post it in the box in the hall of the hotel, when she met her husband on the stairs. "So you have not changed that most unbecoming gown yet ? Oblige me by returning to your room immediately," said Dare, then he caught sight of the letter in her hand. "Ah, you were going to post that. I see. Allow me, and I will do it for you. Put on a walking dress, as we are going out to lunch, and be quick. I will give you a quarter of an hour." He held out his hand for Mie letter, and Phyllis gave it to him. As he descended the stairs, she looked back, leaning over the balustrade at the top. Yes, it was all right, he was going at once to the letter-box, and had not even asked her why she was writing to Dr. Branscombe. Poor Phyllis! That pitiful little letter never reached its destination, but was quietly slipped into her husband's pocket, and read in the smok-ing-room, whilst she was dressing to go out. Three days passed, and no

reply had come, then five, six, seven, and on the eighth Dare informed her that they were starting at onc e for London, to go on to Marshsea, as Sir Marcus had agreed to the proposal made him for them to take Marshlands for six months. The news fell like a knell on Phyllis's heart. Sh e was haunted by forebodings, a vague and terrible dread of returning to that lonely desolate spot, and with Dare as her sole companion, the idea gripped her with horror. Then the thought flashed through her mind that for the journey Dare would give her some money apart from her ticket, which, of course, he would get with his own. Would it be enough to take her to Ventnor when she reached London ? If so, she would make her escape. Yes, she would do that, and at all risks' would go to Jack. Sh e would see him, the doctor who had not even answered her appeal, could not refuse her admittance. No, she was certain of get ting to Jack if once she could reach Ventnor. "You had better have some money in your purse, Phyllis," said Dare, as they were starting, and gave her a couple of sovereigns. • • She thanked him most effusivly, so thankful was she to feel that here was enough money to take her to her brother. It became her one thought throughout the journey, and as they were approaching . London her anxiety became almost apparent. Would she be able to escape her husband's vigilance at the station? S'-e had found out there would be a train for Portsmouth leaving Waterloo station ten minutes after their arrival. Would she dare to go? What would he do when he found her gone? She did not care, once in the train for Ventnor, and she would be safe? It was Jack, Jack, Jack\ only Jack she wanted. As to future punishment for her fault, she did not care, did not think, her resolve to seek her brother at all costs had seized hold of her, and go she must. Arrived at Waterloo, Dare hurrieti to the luggage van to see about their boxes and bags, believeing she was following after him, but in a moment the girl, quick •as lightning. was rushing the other way, her heart thumping, her knees trembling, fear ing every instant Dare would be pursuing her. Accustomed as she was to shift for herself in the old days, she flew to the ticket office, snatched her ticket, and just at the moment that her husband missed her, was leaping breathless into the train that was on the verge of starting for Portsmouth. It was a fast train, and flew along at full speed. Now came the short crossing, then the slow, lagging little journey from Rydc, and now at last, ab! at last from the black tunnel the train came into Ventnor railway station. A cab to the hospital! Thank heaven she had enough money. She dismissed it at the gates, and as she pulled the bell of the big door, a gentleman came out and looked sharply at her. "I've come to see my brother. Dr. Branscombe. One must let me sec him at once, I could bear the anxiety no i longer," said Phyllis, lifting anxious eyes to the doctor's astonished doc-, tor's gaze. "Mrs. Grimshaw! But surely you knew that your brother left here more than a month ago by your husband orders?" "Gone! Jack gone!" The girl swayed, and the doctor put out his arm to catch her as she was about to fall. She had fainted for the first time in her life. CHAPTER XIX.—MORE TREACHERY. "Yes, I'm better now—l fainted, didn't I ? Ah, I remember, I came to see Jack, my brother, and you told ' me he had gone. Was he quite well then?" said Phyllis, looking up in the •doctor's face.

woman but Phyllis, was working for her, living for her, and her alone, and then the truth began to dawn upon iheut both thai there had been foul

"No, I should not say tiiat, but bettcr, oh yes, or I should not have let him leave. But, candidly, Mrs. Grimshaw, I should have wished him to stay longer Your husband, however, wrote, saying: he had been here long enough, lie considered, so Mr. Went- j worth left us a month ago." "And his address, he is in London., I suppose '' questioned Phyllis. She was beginning: to understand—and the j truth was bitter as gall to her. Dare, her husband, had married her, but ! would do no more for Jack. His prom- I ises—bah ! they meant nothing, noth- ' ing at all. "Yes, I believe he went back to town ,but I have had no further com- | munication with him since he left. I j am very sorry for your disappointment, Mrs. Grimshaw, surprised, too, | at your coming. I thought your husband would have told you——-" "Mr. Grimshaw tells me nothing, but why did you not answer my letters?" cried Phyllis. "I received none, none from you," was the reply. Then Phyllis closed her lips; there was nothing more to say. So Dare had kept her letters back. He could no so mean a thing as that! "You must not go yet, Mrs. Grimshaw; do not think of it. You ar e upset," said the doctor, as he saw she was preparing to leave. "Thank you ,but I must get back to town by the very next train. I'm sorry I dismissed the cab; it is so far to the station,," answered the girl, looking very white and weary. "You shall have my motor-car. I will order it at once, if you really must go," said Dr. Branscombe. "You are very good. Yes, please let me have it, I shall be grateful," said Phyllis. And so in a few minutes she was being whirled along the white dusty road up to the station again. The sea lay sparkling in the sunhine, little white-sailed boats tossed on the foam-crested waves. Ventnor was looking lovely as ever, trees were bursting into leaf, the May blossom, white here, crimson there, and the lilac and laburnums were pushing forth their glorious flowers, scented mauves and golden rain. Alas! Phyllis noticed none of the beauties around her. Hot tears of anger and bitterness filled her eyes. She was smarting under this fresh trouble, this new blow that had hit her hardest of all. She was so helpless; she had married to help Jack, sacrificed herself for him, and what a sacrifice it was no one but herself would ewer know. She was mor e penniless than when a poor hard-working girl. for the little money she earned had been her own. Now She clenched her hands, and bit her lip in the passion of her trouble. She hated Dare Grimshaw, hated her husband ! A hired cab was coming down the road ,driven fast; evidently the passenger was in haste to reach his destination, and unconsciously Phyllis turned her eyes upon the person inside, but already he had seen her, and leaning out made violent gestures for the motor-car to stop. Then it was that Phyllis in amazement recognised Geoff Hatherley. One look was enough; all was forgotten save that he, the only man she had [oved truly, was before her. She sprang out of the car, and gave him her hands. She wanted a friend so much, she was distraught with misery, alone, unhappy. "Phyllis, I am on my way to see Jack, and ask him for your address—no is at the hospital " stammered Hatherlev, scarce knowing what he said, desperate to take the girl in his arms, . nfort her in the sorrow that had mane its mark on her exquisite face... for she was lovelier than ever, and tell her that hje—even now, in spite of all—would be true till death. "t is no use you going to the hospital. Jack has gone. lam hastening back to London to see him. We will go together. Yes, I can return with you in your cab; then we can talk." With rapid speech and movement Phyllis dismissed the car, and stepped into the hired cab, Geoff by her sde. He took her hands in his, holding them close, and for some moments neitoo full for words, they were together, ther could speak; their hearts were and, alas !—divided, for Dare Grimshaw 1 s shadow fell between them. "My God!" whispered Geoff. "You —you care still," answered Phyllis under her breath. "Care! I love you, shall love you till death," was the passionate reply. The temptation was too strong, he had her in his arms, and she did not resist. She felt safe there, it seemeri her rightful place, and she clung to him despairingly. Let him kiss her as he would, eyes, cheeks, throat and lips, frenzied kisses that had hunger and thirst in them, and a terrible longing. "But why—why did you send back, the cross ? Ah, Geoff, that did it all. What could I do? You were faithless,-, it did not seem to matter much wl ;> I did, I just had to think of Jack I had no one else, and so —so " S She was sobbing out her anguish, still clinging close about him. "I was never false; I sent you back ! no cross. See, put your hand here, my darling, can't you feel it against my j breast: but mine to you, that came back, and broke my heart. How could j you, clear? TTow could you?" Hurried explanations followed. Geoff j vowed he had had no thought of any

play, and a fiend had parted them, an dthat fiend was Dare Grimshaw. He had vowed to win Phyllis by fair means or foul, and he had succeeded. "I am his wife, Geoff, his wife, and I hate him," cried the girl brokenly. Hatherley's face grew stern, he held her away from his whilst he strove to think, to form some plan to help the woman who belonged to him wholly in heart and soul, wrenched from his arms by a foul stratagem, a shameful plot. How that man must have planner to have had similar crosses made, how clever he was in his devilry; how could he cope with such a villain ? and how punish him But was it not enough that the woman he had plotted to make his wife should hate him? "Oh, Geoff! Geoff! what am I to do?'' wailed poor Phyllis, brokenheartedly. "f do not know yet, but I am your friend still, dear. You know that, and I will do my utmost for you," was the reply. Hatherley was thinking hard, for the situation he was facing was a most difficult one. He believed that Grimshaw would meet them" at the station in London, furious at his wife having made her escape from him. He would /discover her absence, search for her, then guess the truth that she had gone to her brother. He would triumph over the fact that she would find Jack gone, and return to the station to meet the trains from Ventnor likely to bring her back - . Would it be worse for Phyllis to be seen with him? What had they better do In the train they talked things over, and miserable at the idea of going away with her husband, Phyllis could see that it would be the only thing to do. He could claim her by law .she belonged to him, and judgment would go against her. Then to be .seen with her former lover would be damning, bad for h-r, and bad for Hatherley. "But, Jack —I must know where he is!" cried the girl, her pitiful eyes upraised to Geoff's. "I will find Jack. 1 will let you know at once —a telegram fromi him, not signed by me; but you wili have to watch for it. By eleven o'clodc tomorrow morning you shall hear something, I promise. You will have to endure suspense until then, I am atfraid. If necessary, I wll enlist Mrs. Lor rens into our service, and send her down to Marshsea to see you, and tell you about Jack. I am certain she would help us. You know she came over with me, as the lady she was with decided to remain with her relations out there. Mrs. Lorrens is in London now. Who knows she may have found Jack —has it ever struck you, Phyllis, that those two are fond of one another?" said Hatherley. "I know they are, but she is years older than he," replied PlfeylHs. "An uncle has idTed and left her some money—enough to live comfortably upon. Quite a romance, isn't it? But she will tell you all about it when you two meet. She's a dear woman, Phyllis." "The very dearest; but you are not to think so," retorted the girl with a flash of her old coqtwetry. As they were not alone, he could not take her in his arms and kiss those sweet lips as he dasired, but had to content himself with pressing her hand hard in his. So it was. decided that Geoff should be lost to sight in the crowd, and Phyllis should summon up all her courage to face her husband - not an easy thing to do, for the girl guessed that Dare would be enraged with her. furious at her daring to escape him. As they drew nearer to London it was pitiful to see the pallor of Phyllis's face, the fear gather in her eyes, and" the nervousness that she was doing her best to hide. But Geoff knew, and his heart ached for her. If only he cotild keep her with himAh 1 heaven, if only she were his to guard and keep for always! "Phyllis f he whispered, crushing her hand closer 4n his clasp. She looked up at him with those pitifully frightened eyes that were so innocent, so pure, so brave, too, in spite of that look of fear in them, that Geoff caught back the passionate words that trembled on his lips, and all that he whispered back was to keep up her courage, to be brave. "Yes," she njmrmured, "yes, I will try to be, but oh, Geoff! I—l don't want you to lea>ve me." ''l'll come to you wherever I am. if you call to me—a letter, a wire will bring me, remember, my darling. I 1 am yours until death," was the fervent response, and a gleam of light crept to the girl's eyes, a faint flush of color to her cheeks. "Geoff, it will be too late to go down to Marshlands to-night. We shall probably go to the Grand Hotel, that's where Dare always stays, so J wire to me there, before w if possible, as we may be leaving by n to-mor-row," said Phyllis. He promised to do so, and then for the remainder of the journey, but ■' few minutes, they were silent, a silence fraught with pain and angnish. Now—now they had arrived, the train rushed into Waterloo Station, and they stopped with a jerk. Phyllis put her head out of the window and shuddered as she beheld Dare Grimshaw standing with watchful gaze upon the carriages. "He is there, and I am ready to face him," she said steajdily, for her fears wer e giving place to anger that burned in her heart ,that she had been caught through 'he foulest treachery. fTo.'fac continued.}