GLADYS GREYE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXVII, Issue 8192, 1 March 1890, Page 3 (Supplement)

GLADYS GREYE.

i "•' ,* <*' .■.--.,-■... ,'.'■'■ ■ ■ ■'. Bl BERTHA tau CLAY, Irtf "Blarjorie Deaae." "AHeart'* Idol," *fflw* Crucible," " Another Man's Wife," ,' :-£ -. «A Heart's Bitterness,", Ac,, &c, Ac.

j CHAPTER I. ! ; - ■ t LOKD D.ASHLMGH. Lord Dashleigh who discovered the ; JIW f Hen( j. Thousands of people, good and' indifferent,' had eaten of its T ivioiis Viands and drank of its rare ale ; Sir the fashionable world of London ib 5 remained undiscovered until the day ■ h „ Lord Da>'hleig!i, with a curt oath at • -il lack had shrugged his shoulders and his' dinner there " . He had been scouring the country in that , ' g!l v»ge fashion of his,- avoiding his ffl . I li ;f they wore afflicted with a sort of * in t an( a deluge of rain had driven him £ertbe« helte S- o£tho °° of th '° Boar ' A has been said, ho growled to himself .. curt oath and ordered his dinner somethine after this wise. Said mine host, with ►to contest maimer, for he had a quick .rent for the quality, having been a butler - «,rl ! a castle in Ibis day : .. Whit »iU it bo to-day, sir?" «'A goodfiff. my own company, and something t^-'',-:|^M"ne''i**? RnßCme dropped his lip ever mle, «»<* hurried, out to his wife with . * information that she must do her very iTfcriM»' ; ho was certain they had someowlittie short of a duke in the house. Tiel" result of Mistress Ransome's bjst was . ga'prise to Lord Dashleigh, and he looked atßaiisome with a grim, fleeting smile curling his lip"Do you feed everybody this way?" he queried, sardonically. ;;# ;''■ "So, sir—no, your lordship—" and he §1 paused delicately. - ' w ■ ' " Lordship, if you like," said Lord Dashhigh, with his peculiar ghost of a smile. -<■:■ " No, your lordship," went on Ransome, with an air of intense relief, "no, your lordship. Only them as can appreciate it, 'jour lordship. We tries to give all an' everyone the best; bub there is touches, 'S. your lordship—touches which we reserve, if I might use the expression without " : offence, reserves for the helite." Kaniomo was not a little proud of his offhand trifling with the aristocratic French language, and he involuntarily threw the balk of his weight on one hip as ho spoke. ' Bub Lord Di sblei;rh had forgotten him, and Ransome had been with the quality long enough to know that his guest had no -farther use for him. Like a prudent man, he made a motion to retire, only giving his napkin a rather ostentatious flip as he did so. * Lord Dashleigh looked up. ; "Oh'Er—" "Itensome. your lordship." ... -. "Kansome ? Yes. I suppose you haven't -. jay wine, Kansome!?" "Yes, your lordship, we have," anf swered Ransome, reproachfully. "The :. Chateau la Rose I can offer your lordship" " With a clear conscience, eh Well, : fetch it along, and then you needn't wait. *i I want to bo alone." , The dinner was good, the ale was good, ..and the wine was all that 'Ransome would v Lave declared ib to Lie If ho hail been given <a chance by his lordship. Mine host would have proved too that he had good r-beds in the house if Lord Dashleigh had .'been of a mind to give him the opportunity ; but that he was nob minded to do. '■, : " The last train has gone, your lordship," said Ransome. "Then gob mo a lly, and I will be driven over to Henley.". ;; " It's as dark as a pocket, your lordship, end rainin' that hard—" "I don't care how dark ib is, or how hard it is raining. (let me a fly." -; So Lord Dashleigh went on to Henley through the rain and tho gloom, and the k landlord saw him drop back in the seat, I gnawing his lip, and with a brow blacker [than the night, as if he had thoughts that were troubling him., - ■:"„ andso he had ; bub that did hob concern the landlord, who knew him afterward as Lord Dashleigh, who, by his account of 1 the dinner he had had, sent so many of his swell friends down to tho Boar's Head on ?picnic parties. ~V? ~...: ■■, As for that moody and unsocial noble- j rosn, ho never gave any further thought to ! tbs Soar's Head after, speaking of it ca- • sually at the club, or, rather, he would I never have given any further thought to fit had it not been that he was spoken to <:' on the subject. ' v It was Lady Suitly—she was the London I beauty then—who spoke to him of the ; Boar's Head ; bub oit that presently. v-It has been said that Lord Dashleigh fiSd thoughts troubling him. The chief, '.though quite unwitting cause of them, was : a certain schoolgirl, Gladys Greyo by name, whom he had met at the house of Lady -Thorne. . : Lord Dashleigh was one of the wealthiest nobleman of England, and a patrician to the finger-tips. He was nob what could be called fast; bub he had a grim, sardonic way of doing things which was worse than any recklessness. Men gave him his way for the most part, and women, I when he allowed it, worshipped him. ' Ho was as taciturn as a man very well = could be, and when he did speak used remarkably few words, and a tone curter even than his words. He seldom smiled, and then either grimly or wearily. And yet, withal, he was always courteous. Ho had gone to Lady Thome's and met . Gladys Greye, who seemed to be a favourite of the elder lady. Lady Thorne introduced him to Gladys. She lifted her large eyes shyly to his, to catch a glimpse of the man all London was talking of and all women worshipped. He had looked languidly nto the dark eyes. Then Gladys had stepped aside, to let Someone more worthy than she talk with the great Lord Dashleigh. There were plenty caL'sr to fill her place, and she had retired to a corner, where she could ask herself calmly why her heart was beating bo wildly. The daughter of - tho Right Honourable Rawdon Greye had as good blood in her veins as even a Dashleigh ; but, after all, she was only the daughter of a younger son's,son, and could nob expect to be noticed by the great Lord Dashleigh. She did not expect it, but it was nevertheless a fact that she had ueen introduced to him, and that was something to take back to the school, where she was supposed to be finishing, but where in fact she was abiding, as the cheapest place her very aristocratic, bub extremely impecunious, father could keep her. * And vat na alio fnld linvsrdf this with an

And yet, as she (.old herself this, with an tttempt to sec the bright side of this as of ill other things, she felt down in her' heart Jiat she would say nothing of this meeting, -vea to Ladies Maud and Edith, who were tar best friends in .Miss Hardgreave's school; " She sat in her corner and looked as often a3 she dared at the handsome, taciturn man, who even at a; distance fascinated her as no other man had ever done. '' Presently she missed him, and- with something like shame for it, she felt her heart heavy with disappointment. "Why alone in a corner, Miss Gladys?" Lord Dash.leigh was speaking to her. Gladys looked up with a guilty flush, in which there was unconcealed pleasure, too, and Gerald D.ishleigh looked down into the eyeb which had drawn him over from the other side of the room, lie loved her, even as she loved him. No, not as she loved him. That was impossible. .She was a pure young girl, with a heart so clear and open that the man of the world could rend it in her eyes. Ho Knew she loved him. After that first meeting there were others •-as many others as he could contrive, and he contrived many, Bhe hardly even bo think of what Ids feelings toward her ore; but he know exactly how she felt toward him. It was at tin's time that, when ho was Ti'.vay from her side, and that was necessarily the greater part of his time, he wandered away over the country on foot, sometimes taking a train at random from the city, and getting out when ho saw fit, and then striding out into the country in any direction. " On one of these haphazard excursions ho came to the Boar's Head. And this brings us to Lady uifcly again. ■.. I , it was at Lady Thome's, and lie was | talking softly toG lady nobody else ever i : ti.eard the Mine toaies 'or saw the same face j 1 gj* 10 i(l 3 beil Lady Suitly eaid to

-.'-- "What is this everybody is saying about' a discovery of. yours, Lord Daahleigh VIM, ; .Lord Gerald flashed aj glance at Gladys that sent a Warm flash oveir her face, and then turned calmly to Lady Stt&ly. - : . "What ig everybody saying abor.ti a discovery of mine?" . ■ •."_ Something about a Boar's Head.".."V. He lifted; his eyebrows ever so little, and was about to make some languid reply, when he caught a look of interest on the face of Gladys. His own face lighted up instantly, and he answered 5 : ."Oh, yes. A royal place for a lunch after a trip ,up the river. I Was driven in there by a storm." .' . ■ .- :;ii "Can we nob make a party?" said Lady Suitly. "What do you say.. Lady Thome?" t * Lady Thome had a horror of these out-of-door parties, and .would have made an excuse; but happening to glance at Gladys' face, she sighed and declared she would enjoy it above all things. Afterward she said to Gladys: "I hate picnics, my dear; but I said yes, because I saw death by disappointment in your face if 1 refused my vote." "Dear Lady Thome, you are so kind tome," said Gladys. ..• "Perhaps," answered Lady Thome, with a smile Gladys could nob understand.

CHAPTER 11. A STARTLING PROPOSAL. ■ To Gladys, who, excepting by Lady Thorne s kindness, had "few chances for pleasure, the day of the jaunt up the river was t one of unalloyed happiness. It was not tho same for Lady Suitly, who had almost seriously made up her mind to settle down as Lady Dashleigh. Lord Daahleigh had done everything in his power to make the occasion a success, and then he had devoted himself without much disguise to Gladys, who, with the frankness of a child, accepted his attentions and enjoyed them. They lunched in the Galton Woods, whither Ransome had carried the choicest products of his kitchen, most of which had been ordered by Lord Gerald after a careful catechising of Gladys on the subject of what she liked best. After luncheon the two wandered away from the others, neither taking any heed of the time, but walking on and on, talking of the numberless things which those in love always have to say, until Gladys, warned by the gathering dew on the' grass, urged that they return. Reluctantly he turned to do so, for it seemed as if the moody, taciturn man could only forget himself with her, and dreaded the disenchanting presence of others. However, he knew they ought to return, and he led her to where the party had been bub was no longer. ' " Oh, they're gone!" said Gladys in dismay. " Gone to the Boar's Head," said lie with an air of relief. " Let us follow them." They went on to the Boar's Head very leisurely, and Ransome stood on the steps with his better half, joyfully calculating the gains of the day. At the sight of the pair coming toward them, both held up their hands in a sort of dismay. " Our friends here?" queried Lord Gerald, carelessly. ■'.."'. " They're gone, your lordship," cried the worthy couple in chorus. Lord Gerald frowned, and Gladys gave a little cry of concern. At that he turned to Ransome and asked when tho next train went. "Nob until to-morrow corning, your lordship." Lord Gerald bit h'.i lip and glanced uneasily at Gladys. She looked dismayed, bub the. full import of the situation did not yet seem to have impressed itself upon her. " Get a fly then, and we will drive over co Henley," " Yes, your lordship but the earliest train is at two in the morning, and is a slow train." , -,-, . " Give us a room," said he, curtly. They were taken to a private parlour, and at a nod from him were left alone. He looked at Gladys and saw how greatly troubled she was, though she said nothing to him, as if she was content to leave the matter in his hands. -. '. . " We cannot reach London before morning," he said. "NO?" : ' . . " You are tired.. Sit down," he said. 1 She sab down and looked at him. It was a terrible situation, and she felt it keenly, bub such was her faith in him. that she did not allow herself the agony she would have felt with another. It seemed to her that he would certainly find a way out, and she watched him proudly as he paced the floor before her. , Suddenly he went to the window and looked out into the darkness, which had by this time come on. Could she have seen his face then she would have seen it pale as if with a startling thought. He stood there several minutes, biting his lip and staring moodily out into the darkness. Then he .suddenly turned, as if putting his back to something, and went up to her with a strange gleam in his eyes. "Gladys," he said, in a husky whisper, " why should you go back at all ?" Gladys looked upat him, stolidly, stupidly. The idea was so enormous, so wild a one, that she failed to grasp it for a moment. Then she repeated it vacantly, her eyes fixed in a kind of stupor upon a hideous oil colour painting that hung on the opposite wall. ■ " Why should I go back at all !" Then, suddenly, with a start of astonishment, " What do you mean ?" *• " What I say," he responded, curtly, yet ah ! so gently, so lovingly, so temptingly. " Why should you go back ? Do you think that 1 do not know what is passing in your mind? I can read your face, your eyes, as if they were a book lying open before me. I know that you are brooding over tho consequences of this misadventure,, and i dreading them. To another woman I might attempt to make light of the matter —1 do nob with you, Gladys. You are no fool, my bright, clever darling ! and you know that this will cause you trouble." He paused. She looked up at him, still with that expression of only half understanding him—of failure to grasp his meaning. "Listen '." he said, and he laid his hand on her arm, gently but firmly, as if he would impress every word upon her. attention. Do what we will—and I am ready to move heaven and earth !we cannot roach London till morning. Where can we go? Nob to the school." Gladys shuddered. A vision of Miss Hardgreave, the servants, the girls, all assembled to receive her, with gaping eyes and mouths of curiosity—and worse—rose before her. " Lady Thorne I" she murmured, almost inandibly. Ho smiled grimly. "If I have nob grievously misjudged Lady Thome's intellect, she is by this time tearing about, wringing her hands, and publishing your disappearance" Gladys made a little gesture of despair with her hands, and stared before her into space, " In an hour or two's time, if not already, she or Miss Hardgreave will have communicated with your father." " And he will come for me," said Gladys, a gleam of hope returning to her eyes. He looked down and tugged at his moustache. " When ?" he asked. " To-morrow ? It will bo too late." " Too late for what ?" she asked. "To late to silence the vile tongues of scandal -mongers." Jf she had not already realised her position, these words of his forced her to do so now. With a sudden shudder she lifted her eyes to his—alarm, dread, the shadow of shame in their depths. " You see, my darling," he said, gently, caressingly, "it will bo too late. You think, perhaps, that you understand the sorb of things that would bo said ; but you do nob understand and realise fully. The world i:-s only too cagor to darken a fair name—the fairer and more spotless the better." , "What shall I do?" she murmured, brokenly, her hands clasped in her lap, her beautiful head bowed with terror end shams, " Do as I would have you," he answered. " Seeing that to do what we will to get homo in time, to reach Lady Thorne, would bo worse than useless, do not go back." " Not go back !" she aaid, slowly. " Where am I to go, then ?" " Stay here," he whispered. For a moment she stared at him then slowly the crimson rose and flooded her neck and face—aye, oven her hands ; while into the eyes fixed on his came an expression of horror and despair—horror at, tho proposal, despair that he—he, her god should have proposed it. >

Ho saw the look, read it accurately, and his face reddened and then turned white. ..." Gladys," he breabhed, " whab are you thinking ? Why do you look .at me like that and he put his hand on hers ; but with a cry, that was -'scarcely;', as much a cry ha an inarticulate expression of dread, she drew her hand away and shrank from him. • ~' /;.'.. - ■ ; "My darling ! Gladys !" he murmured, kneeling and putting his arm around her. " What is ib you think I mean ? Do you bhink—heavens !—do you think that I moan bo insult you ? For Heaven's sake do nob shrink from me ! Hear .me out. I say— stay hero until to-morrow, while I go to town. I shall not be long; you need no assurance of that; and when I Come backdo you not understand me, my darling?" " No," dropped from her lips. Ho smiled. "I should have said it differently. Well, Gladys, if I go to town and come back, ib will be for bub one purpose. Cannot you guess ? When I come back, Gladys, you must marry me." She looked ab him, benumbed with amazement. " Marry—" "Certainly," he said, trying to speak lightly, though his flashing eyes and changing colour belied his attempt at ease. " There in nothing else to be done. Forgive mo if I look glad, my darling. lam half mad with joy at the mere thought ol it!" and he pub his arm around her and drew her near to him. "Don'b be frighbenod, Gladys. It is not— is itso dreadful ?" The crimson stained her face again, and her eyes dropped beneath the passionate fire of his. ' "Speak, my darling, my queen!" he whispered. "Say will you do it. Why should we wait ? Fate has taken the matter out of our hands, we-cannot wait! and, again, why should we ? Why should we nob seize every moment of bhe life bhat is lefb us, and spend ib together? One word, Gladys! Where is the bold, brave spirit I love so'well? Speak!" At last she spoke. " lbib—is impossible," she said. "I do nob know—bub"—and she hid her crimson face—" how can ib be possible '!" "Everything is possible—l am ashamed bo say—to gold. Have you ever heard of a special license, Gladys? Why, I thought schoolgirls had the "matrimonial laws at their finger-ends. Nothing is easier ! I get a special license to-morrow morning. lam back here with ib almost before you have missed me, and then"—-he stopped and drew a long breath that finished the sentence significantly enough. "But,"murmured Gladys, "my father—" He smiled rather grimly. "Listen, Gladys," he said. "I do nob pub bins argument in a cowardly spirit; bub so far as your father is concerned, this is the simple truth of it: If we do not do as wo 1 propose, your father will call me out —you 'see, we fight duels yet. I might refuse, ib„,is true : but I should have to permit him to horsewhip me at the club," and he laughed. Bub Gladys did not laugh. Her hands crept toward him with a sudden bitter terror. " No, ib would have to be a duel, and, bo speak plainly, there shall be no concealment from such a woman as you, Gladys, I should fire in the air, and your father—he is one of the best shots I know." The small, white hand grasped his now, and the crimson on the lovely face was turned to the whiteness of the lily. " You see," he said, lightly, "and you will acquit me of telling you this simply to gain a point,*but ib is whab will happen, and for some reasons it would be rather a good thing. Well, well, we will say no more ! Bub even then, my darling, your fair name would be smirched. There ! no more words save the precious one I am waiting to hear you utter. Come, my darling, say yes. hat is there so dreadful in the idea ? You iovo me, Gladys ?" She raised her eyes and looked ab him straightly, and with infinite love, and he took her into his arms. "Enough; you have spoken. Now, Gladys, bring out that brave spirit of yours. It is all settled. To-morrow you will bo my wife, and I shall be able to meet them all.and fight bho battle for both ofiis. My wife !" She hid her burning face on his shoulder. Her heart beat madly, so madly that he could feel it," and his own beat in unison. "My wife !" he repeated. "Gladys, it can scarcely be brue ! Give me one kiss, that I may realise it," and she raised her lips to meet the passionate kiss on his. "And, now," ho said, releasing her with reluctance, we must have no pale brides to-morrow. You must have some wine," and he rang the boll. The door was opened with suspicious promptitude, suggesting that Mrs. Ransome had not been far from the other side of it, and that good woman entered, bringing the usual decanter of porb and box of biscuit, and proceeded to spread a cloth, eyeing Gladys' downcast face covertly. Lord Dashleigh, after the manner of men, paced to and fro, and scarcely waiting for Mrs. Ransome's preparations to be completed, seized the decanter and poured out a glass of wino. "Drink this," he said, in a low tone; then aloud to the landlady, "Bring something to eat. Not biscuits ; meat, cake— anything." . " Y'es, my lord," was tho instant response, and they were once more alone. He stood over her and insistedinsisted is the only word —on her sipping the win- 1 .; bub when some sandwiches appeare',. Gladys could not cab, although Mrs. liar,. some added her respectful entreaties to his lordship's. When s.he went out, which she did after a time, Lord Dashleigh followed her out of the room. "Look hero, Mrs. Ransome," he said, in a peculiar tone, which, when he used it, impressed most people with tho idea that obedience was expected of them, and that they would have to yield itunqucstioningly. " Tho young lady will remain the night : hero. Get the boat room in the house ready, and attend to her as if she were the queen herself. You understand ?" '".Yes, my lord, certainly," answered Mrs. Ransome. "I am going to town, and I shall be back before noon to-morrow. You comprehend that there has been a mistake as to the train, Mrs Ransom"-," " Yes, my lord," slowly. "And that .Homo- unpleasantness may occur if tin? young lady's friends arrive before I come back, and'arc allowed to worry her." J " cs, my lord." "Well, Airs. Kansome,, you will oblige me by guarding her from tiny such annoyance—that if anyone comes and inquires for her, you will pi ,aec say that she has gone back to London." || Ye-cs, my lord," rather doubtfully. "And as you will be put. to some little trouble, perhaps you will allow me—" And something crumpled in his hand remarkably like Bank of England notes. At any rate they crumpled in Mrs. Ransome's hands a moment, afterward. "I leave the matter in your hands," he continued, "because a lady can understand these matters so much bettor than a man." Yes, my lord ; the young lady shall receive my best attention, and shall nob bo worried ; but, my lord—forgive me, I mean no offence— we've kept the house for fifteen years ; not a breath has been uttered against it—" p He stopped her with his grim smile. "I understand. You need say no more. The young lady will bo my wife to-morrow." Mrs. Ransomocourtesicd—literally to the ground. " Her ladyship—l mean the young ladyshall be taken as much care of as if she were my own daughter, my lord. And I'll take care no one sees her." " Thanks," ho said, curtly, and returned to the room.

CHAPTER 111. "I AM llKtlß— Ml! !" Gladys was sitting with clasped hands beforo the tiro, storing into the dancing flames, when he returned ; but she turned her eyes up at him with a smile and a.blush, And ho know that the old brave spirit had come back to her. As ho crossed the room ho looked ab his watch. " I have another quarter of an hour, and then I must say good-night. What is it Shakespero says? You know him better titan I do. ' Parti:)'' is such'—." •'.'Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good-night untU it be morrow,' " answered Gladys, with a laugh half glad, half shy-

" A*nd Of what have you been thinking?" he asked, sitting down beside her, and pubting his 'arm around her. . -J " Of what they will say at Miss Hardgreave's whim they hear." . ■■■; He nodded and mniled. , -\,% j , v ;. "I haven't the pleasure of that estimable lady's w acquaintance," he paid ; '■...*« but I must look her up. I owe her a debt of gratitude. • She must be possessed of rare powers to train such a specimen of womanhood as my Gladys. Are there many likeno, not like 5 that's impossible bub anything approaching you there, Gladys ?".... lb was one ; of those careless, pointless things which one will oftentimes say when under thh influence of deep feeling ; bub it awakened a sudden recollection in Gladys. With something like a start, she said : " Why, you know one of the girls." " Yes ; 1 hope I do," he answered, caressing her hand. "No, no, I mean besides myself. You know Julia Meredith," and she looked at him with a shy, questioning smile. He was not given to starting. If one had come and told him that, of a surety, he himself was to die that hour, he would have taken the information with stoical calm ; but a compression of the lips that might stand with him for an expression of surprise greeted the name. '" Julia Meredith ?" # he said. "Yes, I know her people. She is at your school ; I forgot." . ' * Gladys looked at him, nob keenly, but expectantly; bub his eyes mot hers with open candour, and the question she would have put died on her lips. " Only another quarter of an- hour," he said, as if no such person as Julia Meredith existed. "How I shall count the quarter hours while I am away from you ! What is it about vou that takes such a hold upon me, Gladys'? Is it your face only? It is beautiful enough, in all conscience. Don't shake your head ; one doesn't flatter one's wife, you know.?.' ■ "I'm not your wife yet," said Gladys, with her old archness. " But to-morrow," he said, bending until his lips touched her hair, "to-morrow ! Is it your face, or the way you have of smiling at me ? If so, have you sold yourself to the unmentionable one, and bought a charm which no man can resist? What is it, Gladys ? Let it be what it may, ib ha* completely ensnared me. I know what love is, though I have never felt it till now and this is love ! My darling,. I loved you from the first moment I saw you—the very first. Heaven ! how I strove against is" Gladys tried to draw her hand away from him with an uprising of the fair brow. "For your sake, my darling," ho explained ; " for your sake. Soriously, Gladys, yon have made a bad bargain. I'm a bad lot. You have heard that. They took euro to tell you that, I know. Well, it is true ! Bub I begin a new life from to-day. By the way, you don't seem to feel much curiosity about your future." Gladys looked at him. The look seemed to say, " You are my future,' and the look thrilled through him. It was wonderful how every look, every word of hers wont straight to his heart. " Do I not ?" she said in words. "No," he said. "It is scarcely fair to trap you like this. There ought to bo half a dozen lawyers, three a side, to ask and answer questions. Don't you want to know something more about me ?" Gladys shook her head slowly. He smiled quietly. "You don't care to know how far back the title goes and how great—or small—the extent of the rent-roll may be ? Suppose I said I was very poor V Gladys smiled. He poured out a glass of port for himself. " Well, I can't say that," he went on carelessly. " I'm afraid I'm rather the other way. Gladys, I should like to try love in a cottage ; but I'm afraid it can't be done. When wo settle downwhich I hope we sha'n't do for a small eternity— you will find no end of troublo in store for you. Hitherto I have lived a la bachelor — chambers, club, and hunting-box sort of existence. But there's a castle, which I haven't seen for some years, and A big town house, which I haven't entered for more. But" and he took her hand in his and looked full into her eyes—"the settling down period shall be indefinitely postponed. You said, when we were walking together, that you would like to see all the places I intendedl still intend—going to but not alone. Thank Heaven, not alone ! So you shall, my darling. Where do you pay shall we go on our travels—ltaly, France, Germany, India? Where you like — any-* where, so that you are by my side and within reach of my arms," and as she was then within reach, he took her to his breast. Gladys sighed. Ah, that sigh of happiness, drawn from a heart too full of joy ! "Take me whore you will," she murmured. "That's like my Gladys," he said, with delighted approval. " Well, we will go on our pilgrimage. May it bo a long one ?" " You don't like England ?" said Gladys. He made a gesture of dislike. "All countries arealike to me, if you are by my side, my darling. England?no," and his brow contracted. " I don't care how soon I leave it. But come ! are there no questions you want to ask?" Sho hesitated a moment, then put her arm around his neck, and murmured : " Bend lower." He bent so that she could hide her face on his shoulder. "Only one," she breathed. "Do you love me ?" Instead of pouring out a rhapsody, he raised her face with both his hands, and looked straight into her eyes. " Gladys, I love you so well that I would risk all I have—my life, my soul, to win you I'It was a strange answer, and it sent a thrill through every nerve of her. She remembered it in the aftor-time, remembered the very tone of his voice, the very look in his eyes. " Are you answered ?" he asked, in his low, deep voice. "Can you say as much Supposelot us suppose —that I knelt to you now—as I do kneel," and ho knelt beside her and took both her bands in his, his eyes fixed on hers with passionate scrutiny, "and I said, 'Do you love me, Gladys Will you risk life—all you, a woman, hold dearyour very soul, for my sake ?' what would you say ?" There was a moment's silence. She was trying to suppress the passion that welled up and overmastered hoc at the sound of his deep voice, at the sight of his handsome faco ; then she bent toward him, and in a voice that was almost inaudible, she responded : s " 1 should say, ' I am hero ; take me!' " A singular expression crossed his face. It might) be of infinite joy—of infinite relief, as if his accusing conscience needed some such assurance as that to set it at rest. Then ho took both her hands and kissed them passionately, but with strange, reverential humility. * "Yours is a great heart, Gladys," he said, in a low voice, his eyes fixed on hers; "a great heart. I have won a treasure such as is given to few men to possess. Remember, Gladys, I hold you to your words." And in the after-time she did remember. There was silence between them for one moment; then he looked at his watch. "Time is up. If our worthy landlord does not. appeal*—-" There was a knock at the door, and in response to the " come in," the landlord made his appearance. " The fly is ready, my lord." " Good !" said Gerald. " Now, then, my best way V" Better ride to Henley, my lord, and catch the market train. I've got some rugs for your lordship, and if there is anything else-" Lord Dashloigh dismissed him with a nod. Gladys suddenly grow pale and sad, and poured out a glass of wine. " You must drink this," sho said. " Pub your lips to it first," he retorted. Gladys did so, and ho drained the glass. " And now light your cigar ; you must be comfortable." Then her speech died away. " Oh, I am sorry ! It is so late, and you are so tired." And her lips quivered. He laughed sligh'ly, as he folded her in a passionate einbracu. " To-morrow will ">ny mo for hardships a thousandfold worse than' this," he said. "Keep to your room to-morrow, and refuse to see anyone till I come." She nodded obediently—obediently. Was he not her master? Then they went out—Gladys much against his wish—and Mr. Ran so mo put the rugs in the fly and replenished his lordship's cigar-case. Then, with a discretion highly commendable, he retired. Gladys stood by the wheel to the very last. f

'"""Before noon, "my darling !" whispered Gerald, t ' bonding j over. „ " Before noon. Good-night!" . ; And with the warmth and fragrance of her kiss upon Ids lips, he started. Sho watched. him until he disappeared, then went in. 'And he drove madly through the night, his blood on lire, his conscience drowned In the wave of his joy and delight; but before he had ridden many miles that intolerable conscience woke ugain and tortured him. , Me pulled up and sat motionless, communing with the good angel that assailed hiia; >, bub suddenly Gladys' words, in Gladys' voice, rang in his ear, " I am hero ; take me !" and laying the lash oh his horse, he drove on. ."■ [To be continued.]