FOR LOVE'S SAKE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10079, 14 March 1896, Page 3 (Supplement)

FOR LOVE'S SAKE.

BY DOHA JJKI.MAU, Author of "Sinner, ~r Victim?" "In the Golden City," " H id Slin Foreseun," " Hie Secrot of Kstcuurt," " A Tempting Offer," Ac.

CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.) Bke hesitated; then she sunk down in a sitting posture on the floor by his side, and leaned her head against the arm of his chair. He coulu not see her face, and his was equally invisible to her just then.

" It was before dinner," she said in rather a low voice, " whon I was hero with Lady Lisle, and—"

"She insinuated that I was a lovesick swain?" Sir Geoffrey said, lightly, but looking a little anxious.

"Not quite," the girl went on quietly. " But, she thought you were depressed and anxious, and then she asked me why Lord Alford came hero, and when I said he came for Valerie, she seemed rather upset." " Well?" Sir tieolfrey said, hurriedly. "She asked me if I thought Valerio cared for him, and I said 1 believed she did, and I thought; motherling would have fainted."

" Valerie is like a child of her own, Bee," the young man said, rather nervously. " And my mother is so easily excited."

"But she said : 'My poor boy!'" the girl said in a low tone. "And when I asked her if she were ill, she anmvorcd that she wan only broken hearted, as every mother is at the thought of suffering to on; of her children."

" Poor mother !" Sir Geoffrey said, softly, and Beo felt the hand which was holding hers so tenderly tremble a little in the silence which ensued.

" Bee," the young man said, aftor a long pause, " will you trust me?" "Oh, I do—you know I do!" Lisaboe said, softly, but very earnestly, as she turned her lovely face to him.

" I cannot explain my mother's words to you, dear," he went on, gravely, but very gently, " The meaning you gavo them is not the correct one. My mother knows that Valerie can never be, has never been, anything to me but a cousin, and that she has no other feeling for me but the one

J feel for her, Therefore, lit,tie girl, you need never feel one moment's anxiety on that score. Von believe this, Bee?'' lie added, gently, as ho bent forward, and took the Kid's face botween his strong, tender hands,

Something in the sweet eyes which met his forced him on to other words.

" I love you, and yr.u only, Boa," he said, with sudden emotion. "In your little hands yon hold my happiness and my woo The Abboy hasnot been a very happy homo during the last few years, Bee 1 It has known sorrow, and suffering, and sickness, and death. Heaven alone knows what tho future may have in store for us. All was sunshine before, when the storm broke so unexpectedly ; the sun is shining now for ine, yot tho storm may be near. And perhaps lam selfish—culpable, indeed—when I auk you to share what this unknown future may bring." His lips paled a little, his breath came hurriedly, as if he were deeply moved. " You are bo young, dear," he said, hoarsely, "and in your generous pity you are ready to risk so much that I scarcely daro accept the sacrifice you are willing now to make for me."

"There is no sacrifico—there is no sacrifice!" slit said, brokenly. "Oh, Geoff, I love you."

" Heaven knows how precious those words are to me," he sai 1. " liven if you take them back to morrow, Bee, I must forgivo you, since you havo given mo tonight such happiness as I have never known before. In the time to come, my darling, if you feel that you have mistaken for lovo your friendship for me, do not hesitate so tell me so. I bind you by no promise, my dear, my dearest, but i love you with all my strength, and I would love you if you stabbed me to the heart which beats only for you."

They were passionate words, strange to hear from the lips of a man so proud, and cold, and self-contained as Sir Geoffrey Lisle. The girl in his arms thrilled and trembled us she listened, then sho lifted her hand* and clasped thorn about his neck.

"You cannot love mo—however deeply you may love me—more than I lore you," she whispered. " Lot what will come, Geoff, it will not be so hard, so long as we can bear it together. Oh, don't, you remember, dear, that quantl on at deux on te connote pour lout. And I will be so good and tender, and true that you will not be sorry that you have stooped to love suah a weak, foolish girl, and one so unworthy of you." And as he thanked her for the passionate, tender words, neither of them guessed that when the storm broke (lie would be tho first to desert him.

" My darling, I must send you aw#y," Sir Geoffrey said, after a little happy pause; "it is very late, and I shall not care to Bee only white roses in tho morning."

'' (Ihristmas roses are always white," Bee answered, smiling, far sho had felt hi* arms tighten abupt her aB if ho were vory loath to set her free. " And you promised me some coffea, Gooff."

" Did 1 ?" ho replied. •' Will it not keep you awake, my child ?" "I hope it will, I don't want to go to sleep," sho said, gently; "tho very happiest dreams could not be so happy as my own thoughts to-night." " Really, Bee ?" the young muti said in a low, happy voice. " Really and truly, my lovo makes you happy ?" " I think I never knew what real happiness was in ray life before," she answered, softly. " And you, Geoff, are you a little happier than when I found you in the picture-gallery? Ah, if you know how that sad face of yours yrent .to my heart," she added, with a tenderness which Geoffrey Lisle appreciated in the vory inmost recea«M of his Imtfe. ,

"I am afraid n great deal of this love of yours is pity," he said, smiling half sadly. " Never mind, love j whatever it is, it '* passing swoeb. You have made life ft very different, thing ill my eyes during the l^ c few minutes." "A happier thing?" she queried, half tiughingly, half in earnest. "Ah, what do you think?" ha said, reluctantly releasing her, a? the sound of Millicent Drew's light footstep reached him, and a little subdued cough, as if she wanted to warn them of her approach. Some intuition must have told her that Sir Gooffrey was not alone, for there were two cups and saucers on the little silver tray, and she appeared totally unconscious of the hot blushes on Beo's fair face. " My lady is asloep now, Sir Geoffrey,' she said in her usual low tone. "I w '" remain with her night, if you please. Good- night, Sir Geoffrey. Good -night, Miss Bee. Can I help you, miss?" she added, looking at the pretty blushing girl very kindly, with her dark eyes very soft and tender.

" I think if you will go with Miss Wentworth and see if you can reduce this mass of hair to something like order it will bo a good thing," Sir Gooffroy said, quietly. "Drink up your coffee, Bee in fiv° minutes Millicent will come back for you." Millicent was young enough, and her own unhappy love affair had loft her tender-hearted enough to induce her to prolong those five minutes into ten ; but at the end of that time she came knocking softly at the half-dosed door. 11 1 am coming, Millie," Bee said quiokly from within; and Millicent, undesirous of listening though she was, could not help hearing Sir Gooffruy's softly passionate: " Good-night, my darling ; Heaven bless you for all your goodness to mo." And then Bee came out, stopping softly and making suoli a picture of shy, sweat happiness, that Millicent Drew's heart warmed at the sight, and when they had got back to Bee's room, something in her face showed her sympathy ao strongly, although she said nothing, that Bee turned and put her arm round tliq woman's neck. " Oh, Millie, Millie I lam so happy 1 I am the happiest girl ip all the world, I think 1" she said, tremulously. "I am glad, Miss Bee," Millicent said, softly, with tears of earnest foaling in her eyes. " And you have made Sir Geoffrey so happy, too, she added. " And he is so good, so good, lie so wol) deserve to be happy, that if 1 darod, my dear, I would bless you for making him so." 800 was too happy and too excited to feel that such passionate emotion was a little out of place in Millicent Drew, but sho romembered it afterward, recalling it with a fierce, jealous pang she did not quite understand. Even now it made her "goodnight" a little constrained and cold, and Millicent was sensitive enough to feel that coldness as she went quiokly back to her sad, lonely vigil at tho bedside of Harold Lisle's mother.

CHAPTER XVI. " Vou won't b* late, Bee?" " Oh, no, dear! Basidoe, Geoff is coming to meet me." " Oh, that is a very satisfactory arrangement," Lady Lisle said, smiling fondly at the girl's happy face framed in its pretty, quaint icarlot hood. "1 think Geoff may be trusted to take care of his most precious possession." "Not more precious than his mothor," Lisabee said, softly, as she bent her sweet lips 10 Lady Lisle's pale cheek. " Oh, his mother is more than content to take the second place in his heart," Lady Lisle answered, warmly, "and she is more than grateful to th« girl who has given him the happiness he so truly deserves, and which has bean withheld so long." If Lisabee Wentworth had needed any addition to her happiness, those words would have supplioif it. Her eyes were full of grateful tenderers for the words which sha felt wer> spoken from Lady Lisle's heart, and she thanked her for thorn with another long, tender kits before she loft her, taking with her, Lady Lislo thought, much of tho warmth and brightness of the cedar room.

If- wua a quaintly picturesque figure which met Sir Geoffrey's eyes as ho stood in tho great hall watching tho broad staircase with tho eager eyes of a lover. Bee had a quaint scarlet clonk over her blue serge gown, and a hood to match, which made a protty netting for the bright young face, envied at the young man standing there, leaning against one of the tall carved supports of the mantelpiece, and Sir (i*>ffrejr smiled too as he met tho sweet, shy eyes. Be# thought he looked very handsome, as well as very happy, as he stood th'jro, in his brown velvet coat, watching her descent. Tho hall was full of evergreens ami flowers and decorations of nrious kinds for the tenants' ball that night, and a goodly number of men servants were busy putting up garlands and sconces, and filling every available corner with tall plants. For three long yoars there had been no festivity at the Abbey, but this Christmas Sir Geoffrey had given his steward carte blanche for the tenants' ball, which had once been an annual institution there.

Contrary to all expectation, Christmas Diy had dawned on a white world. Snow had fallen heavily on Christmas Eve, and the cold had been somewhat severe during the three days which had elapsed since, so that the beautiful white shroud had not disappeared, but covered the landscape with its pure loveliness, and made the Abbey look like one of thojo typical country houses so often veen on Christmas cards and in tho Christmas papers and annuals. " You will N tui'P to wait at the lodge for me, Bee ?" Sir (ieoffrey said, as he advanced to meet her, his eyes softening strangely as they rested on the pretty, quaint figure. "I am sure such » charming Red Riding Hood ought not to be (trusted in the woods alone." "It would be rather an xhentur? fco meet the wolf," sh* said, smiling. " You will not be late, Geoff? I promised mother to bo homo for tea."

'• 1 will come us soon as over I can," he answered. "I think you may be Bi)re of that, Beo. Are you well wrapped up, dear? It is intensely cold. J think we shall havo mora snow to night."

"Oh, I hope not I" B»® $aid, eagerly. "It would be so bad for our—for ypur guests," she added, correcting herself with a divine blush.

" Fur our guests," the young man said, tenderly. " That in the correot formula, ray darling." "Is it? Then I want our ball to be a great, success," alio answered, brightly. " I think 1 have only one wish ungratifiod to-day, Oooffrey," she added, softly, as they stood together on the uppor step of the broad stone flight before the entrance door. "And what is that, Ba«?'' Sir Geoffrey asked, tondorly. "I wish—oh, (}eoff, how I wish"—the sweet young toiaq trembled a little as she spoke— (l thai our brother were here.'' Sir Geoffery started violently, and his hand, holding hers, suddenly released it. " Our brother I" he repeated, staring at her with startled pjps, looking out qf a face which would hare been colourlws but for its bronze.

" Yes, Horace I" she answered, startled in her turn. " Did yon forget that I have the dearest old brother in the world? Why, you told me the other' day that ope of my greatest charms for you coniisted in the fact that I was my brother's sister," she added, with a little pqqt>. " Did I ? It was quite true," Sir Geoffrey answered, with a little sigh of relief. " Can yon forgivp me for having fqrgqtten Horace's existence in the iiappinejj of the last fow days, Bee "Did you think I had conjured up a brother of whose existence you had never hoard ?" she said, laughing. "Porhaps I (lid,"Tie replied, trying to speaking lightly. "And now, dear, it is time to go. Wait for me at the lodge, BBO."

" Yes, if you are nob late; but if you pre detained longer than you oxpect, Gooff, 1 will start and meet you in the covered walk."

" I will nob be late if I can possibly help it, Bee," he aniwered, watching the graceful, scarlet clad figure which made a spot of bright colour in the snow-covered land scape as the girl walked swiftly away down the drive, turning onco to gjva him a little farewell smile oro she disappeared among the tress.

Sir Geoffrey's fauo had not regained its colour when ho turned away from the doqr; his lips had tightened under his heavy moustache.

" What would she say if she knew I" he to himself, pushing his hair from hie forehead.' " She ought to know— ought to tell her, 4>P<H yet, poor child, she is so

young. It would be cruel to darken her young life with such ft cloud. She would be horrified, it would shock her. And perhaps—no, I cannot risk it. Her love is too precious to me. I think if I losb it now I could not bear my life," He went slowly toward the study, where the steward was Awaiting him, but Mr. Franklin thought his employer strangely absent and distrait I hat afternoon, and noticed that the mournful look which they had all been glad to miss from the young man's face during the last few days had returned to it again. Meanwhile, Lisabeo was walking swiftly over the crisply frqsen paths to one of tho lodges, with a message from Lady Lisle to the Jodgekeeper's wife. It was yet early in the bright, frosty afternoon ; tho sunshine was tilling the blue sky, but) its warmth had no perceptible effect upon the coldness of the sharp bast wind. Llsabee's health was too perfect to mind the cold ; she was well wrapped up, moreover, and she had within her heart a well-spring of happiness which would have kept her warm under any circumstances, she thought, smiling to herself as she walked on swiftly, a pretty rod figure among the snow-clad trees. The last few days had been full of a happiness which was almost intense enough to cause liar pain ; happiness so great that it almost overcame her at first. There was no thought in the girl's mind of the worldly advantages her marriage with Sir Geoffrey would give her, of the wealth and position which she, a dowerless girl, would acquire by such an alliance. She could only think that ho had been unhappy in the past, and believe in his oft- repeated passionate assurance' that her lovo would make him a happier man than he had ever been. She, herself, loved him with a passionate tenderness which had changed her from a girl to a woman. Ho was her hero, so true, so strong, so tendor, and he loved her. That was enough happiness for hor, and she thought of nothing el?e. Hi* love alone was sufficient to make her, as she had told him, the happiest girl under heavon. Walking swiftly on in the clear, sharp air which brought such bright Christmas rosos to her cheeks, and crunching the crisp snow under hor little thick soled balmorals, Bos wont over the events of the last; few happy days. Every incident of that blissful hour in the cedar room, when the stillness of the great home was only broken by Sir Geoffrey's passionate avowal of love, was present with her, as were Lady Lisle's tender embrace and joyful congratulations when she heard the uews on the following •lay—tho news which had seemed to rouse her from weakness and languor as a strong cordial might have done. Bee was made to feel the groat happiness sho had (riven almost at every moment; in Sir Geoffrey's changed face, which was so rapidly losing its worn, haggard look, and in his mother's placid countenance and glad smiles.

" Nothing—nothing in the world could I have made me happier, Bee," Lady Lisle had paid. ' And only one thing have I desired as much. Make my bny happy, Bee. You do not knowno, even you do not knowhow much ha deserves your lore." Life had always boen a happy thing for 800 Wentworth, hut until now she had not known such happiness as this. Perfect health, youth, and high spirit* are excellent possessions, and t!ies» -he enjoyed. Her only relative, Horace Wentworth— brother some ten years older than herself—was a young civil engineer of great skill and promise. Their means were not large, and when a very lucrative appointment to join an exploring party bound for Africa was offered him, he scarcely felt) just justified in refusing. Ladv Lisle's eager offer to give his sister a home during his absence had rendered it possible for him to do so, ami the bitterest tears Bee had ever shed in her sunshiny eighteen years of life had been shed at his departure. To be continued.)