BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10058, 19 February 1896, Page 3

BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

NOV FIRST PUBLISHED,

BT B. I. FARJKON, Author of" No. 119, Great Porter Square," " Grlf," "The March of Fate," "For the Defenci,"" Aaron the Jew," etc.

[An Rights Reserved.]

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS „5,™ I. a«d -John Fordliam, at an early ago, Is lef tan orphan; his stepmother, who acts as ins guardian, hta a son, Louis, two years younger Mian John. She maintains a deadly hate for John, perhaps owing to the division of his father's ptoperty. Louis grows up wit the same dislike, Alter many ycirx of domestic unhappiiiess, ho oecomos of age and leaves (tome. At the age of 21 he falls in lore with Barbara Maxwell. Her brother pesters John for money, which is given him. Ho marries Barbara without learning her true character. Maxwell joeringly tells John that she is all his own now, C'W'r™ IV. ind V.-On the dayof their marriage •to n and Bar ban, go to Paris Arriving at the hotel John leaves his rife to unpack, while lie goes round 1,1 >' ? e ut,rrM 10 t "° hotel to find that his I" i locked him out. l!y the aid of the lilt « B 7 1,0 13 aW " to E et through tho window, lio amis the roojl in a deplorable state, and his . ''rank on the bed. Her truo character now dawns upon him, but ho resolves to reclaim her. ue transfers six brandy bottles from her box to his. Chapters VI, and VII.In tlio morning Barbara promises to reform. The manager requests them to leave the hotel. John and his wiio seek another Mote. Barbara takes a liking to the chambermaid, Annette, and takes her inio regular service. John unsuspectingly lends Barbara his keys, ami when hu begins to unpack hediscovors that his wife lias abstracted the brandy bottles, and also that sue ha- had duplicates of his keys made. lie speaks to her about it and a quarrel ensues. I Chapters VIII. and IX.—John, after considernig the pnat event, decido* to give In to his wife, by owning that hois in the wrong. CHAPTER X. In thinking ovor my latest interview with Barbara I was far from satisfied with myself. Much thab I had said had been prompted by hor, and nob all of ib was true, and yob I did not see how I could havo avoided ib without another quarrel, I lay to my soul the dangorous bub flattering unction that, in the. circumstances, a little duplicity was pardonable. In this I am now sure that I orrod. It was after this interview that Barbara had a religious fit. Twice a day sho wenb

to the Madeloino, and spent an hour there

upon hor knees. Sometimes Annotte accompanied her, sometimes I, upon her invitation. I asked her why sho, a Protostnnt, froquonted a Catholic place of worship? "What does ib matter, the place?" she asked, in return, spoaking in a gontle tone. Ib does one good bo pray. Even to kneel in such a temple without saying a prayer strengthens one's soul. Through the solemn silence, broken now and then by a sob from some poor woman's broken hoart, a message comas from God, Women aro groatly to bo pitied, John."

" Men, too, sometimos," I said. " Oh, no," sho answered, quickly, "there is no comparison."

A trifling incident may bo sob down here, in connection with tho brooch, with its device of two hearts, which I had purcliased as a presont for Barbara on the first night wo were in Paris, and which I afterwards determined not to give her. I was in the sitting-room clearing my pockets. Among the things I had taken out was tho brooch, which I had almost forgotten, I was still of tho opinion that it would bo an unsuitable gift, and I was thinking what to do with it when Aunetto passed through tho sitting-room to tho bedroom, hor oyes, as usual, lowered to the ground. In course of tho day I went to the jeweller of whom I had purchased tho brooch, and ho took it back at half tho price I had paid for ib. I thought no more of tho matter.

I had taken circular fcickoba for a two months' ram bio through Switzerland and Italy, intending to visit Lucerne, Berne, Interlaken, Chatnouni, and Geneva, then on to the Italian lakos, and I was studying the plan I had mapped out, and making notes of bye-excursions from the principal towns, when Barbara burst in upon me with the oxclamation that sho was sick of Paris. This surprised mo. Wo had intended bo remain for two weeks, only one of which had elapsed, and I had supposed that the busy, brilliant life of the gay city would bo so much to Barbara's liking that I should liavo a difficulty in Rotting her away from it. For my own part I was glad to leave, glad to travel soonor than we intended to regions whore we should bo in closor contact with nature. Barbara had never vi«ited Switzerland or Italy, and I hoped that association with tho lakes and mountains of those beautiful countries would bo beneficial to her, would help her to shake off the fatal habit which sho had allowed to grow upon her.

" Very well, Barbara," I said, " we will leave for Lucorno to-morrow." "How long does it take to get to Geneva ?" she asked. From Lucerne?" "No, from horo." " There is a morning train, which gets there in the cvoning." " Then wo will go to-morrow morning to Goneva. 1

" But that will mako a muddle of tho route I havo mapped out, and jumble up tho dates.

" What does that mattor ? You can easily make out another; our time is our own. I want to bo in Goneva to-morrow night." " For any particular reason ?" I asked, rathor annoyed, for I knew how difficult it was to divert her from anything upon which sho had sot her mind. " For a very particular reason, Maxwell will bo there.''

" Did he tell you so boforo we left England ?"

" No; ho tells me In a letter, and says how nico ib will be for us to meet there." I thought otherwise. I had no wish to sco Maxwell, bub I did nob say so. " When did you hear from him?" "This morning." "Hie letter did not) come to the hotel. They told me in tho offico that there was nono for oa." " He doesn't; address mo at tho hotel." "Where then, for goodness eakoJ Tho hotol is the propor place." " Perhaps I don't care about always doing what is proper," she retorted, lightly. " Besides, do 1 neod your permission to carry on a correspondence with my brother ?"

" Nob at all; yon aro putting a wrong construction upon ray words." "Oh, of courso. I don't do anything right, do I? Never mind, you may make yoursolf as unpleasant as you like, bul) you won't get me to join in a wrangle. Do I pry into your letters ? Well, then, don't pry into mine." " I havo no dosire to do so. Only, as I suppose bhis iB nob the first letter you have received from Maxwell since wo have boon in Paris—" She interrupted mo with "I hare had three letters from him,"

" Well, I thought you might havo menoned it—that's all."

" I didn't wish to annoy you." " Why should it annoy me?" "Now, John,"she said, in a more conciliatory tone, " haven't I eyes in my head ? Women, really, are nob quite brainless. Do you think I didn't find out long ago that there was no love lost between youJa n d Maxwell Not on his side—oh, po; on yours."

I could have answered that, according to my observation of her, her feelings towards Maxwell woro similar to mino, but I was

determined to avoid, as far as was possible, anything in tho shape of argument that might lead to contention. " I do hope you will get to like him better," she continued, "and you will when you understand him. That is what we were talking about a few days ago, isn't about the advisability of people understanding each other before they pronounce judgment. If they don't they are so apt to do each other an injustice. Maxwell is as simple as a child the worst of it is he takes a delight in placing himself at a disadvantage when he is talking to you, Buying the wrong thing, you know, but never meaning tho least harm by it—oh, no. _Ho leaves you to find it out—so boyish, isn't it? Ho is inconsistent; it is a serious fault, bub it is a serious misfortune, too, when ono can't help it. It is a shame to blame us for our imperfections; we didn't make them ; they are born with us." - "But, Barbara," I said, a feeling of bewildered helplessness stealing over me at tho contradictions to which she was everlastingly giving utterance," we are reasonable beings, 1 '

1 "Oh, yes, to a certain extent, bub no farther. The question is, to what extenb. Take tho son of a thief, now ; how can bo help being a thief 1' He was born one." " You wouldn't punish him for stealing ?" "I don't think I would, for how can ho help it? I would teach him—l would lead him gently." I brightened up. " That is what we are trying to do." " Yes; for it is so wrong to take what doesn't belong to us—and to take it on the sly, too! To go over boxes when one is ill and unconscious. Pie, John 1 I» hoped we were not going to speak of that again." " Bub it is you who brought it up." " Oh, no, love, ib was you. You shouldn b allow things to rankle in your mind; it is hardly manly. What was I saying aboub Maxwell? Oh, his inconsistency. I am glad I am nob inconsistent, bub I am not going to boast of ib. Only you might take a lesson from me. Tho weak sometimes can help the strong. Remember the fable of the lion and the mouse."

I changed the subject. "Wo will start for Geneva to morrow morning. Ib is a delightful journey." "Everything is delightful in your company, you dear boy. You are glad that we shall soon see Maxwoll, are you not!" "Yes, I am glad if it will give you pleasure." "Thank you, dear. Could any newlymarried couplo bo happior than we are? Giro me a kiss, and I will go and do my packing." I recall these conversations with amazement. I was as a man who was groping in the dark, vainly striving to thread his way through the labyrinths in which he was environed. There was an element of masterly cunning in Barbara's character by the exorcise of which I found myself continually placed in a wrong light: words I did not speak, motives I did nob entertain, senbimonts which were foreign to my nature, wero so skilfully foisted upon me, that, communing afterwards with my thoughts, I asked myself whether I was not the author of thorn and had forgotton that they had proceeded from me. Bub Barbara's own conflicting utterances wero a sufficient answer to these doubts. One day she informed mo that Maxwoll had a contempt for me, the noxt thab he had a high opinion of me. Now she despised him, now sho was longing for his sooiety. One momont he was all that was bad, the next all that was {food. I did nob allow those contradictions to weigh with me. My aim was to do my duty by my wifo, and to save her from bocoming a confirmed drunkard; to that end all the power that was within me was directed. While we romained in Paris tho disgraceful scene of the first night was not repoated; but, cunning as she was, sho could nob hide from me the fact that half a dozen times a day she secretly had recourse to her store of brandy. The cloves, and cichous, and pastilles she continually chewed did not sweeten her breath, did not deaden tho hot fumes of liquor which greeted me after these imbibations. Api prehensive of irritating her— consequences of which I had bitterly experienced —I made no direct allusions to this outrage of the docency of married life, trusting to time and to the exercise of tolerance and tenderness, if nob to destroy, at least to mitigate ib. It may be that my silence led hor to the belief thab I had no knowledge of theso secret practices; upon this point I cannot speak with certainty, for under peculiar conditions wo grow so accustomed to deceive ourselves that we are apt to be blind to the natural outcome of a chronic indulgence in an offensive habit. To havo continuod my remonstrances at that etago would have been destructive of the aim I set steadily before me. I deplored my wife's association with Annetto, for in that woman sho had a too willing ally, but there also I was powerless. Ib was nob difficult, by bribos and liberal payment, to buy such a creature, and there was clear evidence that she was bought by those moans, for I saw upon her person articles of adornment which bad belonged to my wifo. In order nob to pub temptation in Barbara's way I became a teetotallor, and from that day to this, except upon one occasion, have nob touched liquor of any kind. "No wine, John ?" Barbara said, as we wore eating dinner. " No, Barbara ; I am bettor without it." "Turned teetotaller!" Sho looked at me with a quizzical smite. " Yes."

"About the most foolish thing you could do. Wino is cood for a man. Everything is good in moderation."

" I agree with you— moderation." " I said in moderation— word is mino, not yours. You will alter your mind soon." " Never," 1 said.

"It would be common politeness to ask if I would have some." " Will you, Barbara?" "Wo," sho replied, vehomently, "you know I hate it." (To be continued on Saturday next.)