JUST A GIRL

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10100, 8 April 1896, Page 3

JUST A GIRL

BY CHARLES OAUVICK, Author of "The Outcast of tlio Family," "Queen Tate," "In Cupid's Chains," "Better Than Life," "On Lore's Altar; or, A Fatal Fancy," " She Trusted Him." CHAPTER XL. The nexb day Trafford rigged up an apology for a tout under that tree, and dwelt there while the doctor was carrying on the grim fight with Death in the hut. Sometimes Trafford stole in and gazed at the flushed face and too brilliant eyes, and listened to the wild, delirious stream that issued from the parched lips. His name was oyer on those lips—sometimes breathed with a passionate tenderness, sometimes uttered imploringly, at others thrilling with womanly indignation ; and every time she spoke his name her voice went to I Trafford'B heart like a distinct stab. Ho was bound up in her, heart and soul; he forgot evcybhing but this girl, whom ho loved with a love which would turn his life to a hell or a heaven, lie forgot that he was the Duke of Belfayre, and no more thought of writing home than he thought of leaving her. Everything in the world might go, if she would only livo and give him back her love. A deep anxiety sab upon Three Star. Men went about with grave faces and preoccupied manner, and the gayety of the Eldorado saloon was crushed out by the weight of suspense. Men spoke in hushed voices, the tinkling piano was silent. No one had even the heart to fight. Varley and Norman and several of the minors rode frequently to the hutr to make inquiries, and hung around on tiptoe, and with suppressed voices. Presents innumerable were sent from the camp; everything that Esme- [ ralda couM be supposed to fancythe most i pvotesqA© sucttctai' sent as tokens of , TlitdQ Star's love. I At tho approach of visitors from tlio camp, TMotA Ivwo.mMy i\Q could not endure to meet anyoneleast of a)), Varley nrn] Norman. He had ft reckoning to make with both, but he postponed it. Bis anger against Norman bad become dwarfed and dulled by tho vastness of his anxiety for Esmeralda. There was no room in hie heart for rage or jealousy, or any fooling but a consuming love. One evening, about a week lafcor, lie was leaning acainst a tree beside his tent, when be saw the doctor coming from the hut. Something in his gait, in tho poise of his head, sent the blood to Trafford's face. He came forward eagerly, with tho unspoken question in his eyos. The doctor nodded, with _ a little triumphant smile about his big, strong month.

" Yea," he said; " she's better—" Trafford. staggered slightly and drew himself up and set his teeth hard ; good tidings arc sometimes as difficult to bear as bad tidings. •—"She is conscious, and the crisis is past, it's been a "terrible struggle, and if she hadn't had her youth and a devil of a strong constitution, I should havo lost this game." Trafford held out his hand; it trembled like a leaf; ho tried to force a smile. "1 won't try to thank you, doctor," ho said. "That's all right," said tho doctor. " Besides, we aren't oat of the wood yet. She's fearfully weak, and there might bo trouble still." " May I see her?" asked Trafford in a low voice. " No," said the doctor, bluntly. " You certainly may not; that would about) finish it. I came out to tell you so, and to advise you to go away for a night. Take a ride, and try to get rid of that scared face of you You look too much like a ghost to present yourself at a sick-bed. Why not go down to the camp and see tho boys ? You might go to the Eldorado and get a drink or two ; in fact, I should advise you to get several drinks and make a night of it; you'll bo all tho better for it. Your mind's been dwelling on one thing, you bean harping 011 one string too long. Go down and have a spree, join in a fight, it you like; anyway, get rid of that undertaker expression; a black eye would bo hotter than that."

Trafford smiled. " I will go down to the camp," ho said, almost Humbly. His follower! the doctor to the door of the hut and stood and listened in the hope that ha might iiear the beloved voice, but all was still, and ho went back and mounted his horse and rode toward Three Star. The relief from the terrible suspense made him fool almost light-headed, ami he rode along in a kind of dream, looking about him as if earth and sky were something new to him. Every now and then ho breathed her name. As he approached the camp, he saw Varley just preparing to mount his horso; lis was going to rido to tho hut. Ac sight of Trafford, he stopped and stood, with one arm resting on the paddle, awaiting him. TratTord rode up, dismounted, and raised his hat; V arley raised his, his dark eyes fixed stormy on Trafford's face. " I have brought good news," said Trafford. " The crisis is past; she is better." A (lush roso to Varley's face and he turned his head aside to hide his emotion ; then ho faced Trafford again. " What do you mean to do, my lord he asked, sternly. Trafford was silent, and Varley went on, speaking slowly, and as if ho had already prepared his words "I have a right to ask. I am her guardian. You havo lost tho right which belonged to her husband. You have brought her nothing but misery. Do you mean to continuo to nmko her unhappy? The sight of you must be almost intolerable to hor as it is to mo. She fled from you to mo, to her old home. Do you mean to leavo hor quietly, or not ?" "She shall decide," said Trafford, gravely, almost solemnly. "I acknowledge your right to ask me such a question. Nob only because you have been a father to her, butbecauso 1 havo brought so much trouble upon you." " Yes," said Varlay, in a broken voice, " not satisfied with breaking her heart, you wero tho cause of my very nearly killing the being I lovo hotter than my life." Trafford bowed his head. " I know it," ho said. "Do you think I shall ever forgot it? That is why I have come to you now to tell you that I place myself in her hands. I shall claim no right to her; I shall advance no plea; I shall just leavo my fato to her." " She can only decide one way," said Varley. "She can havo no love for the man who meanly deceived and betrayed her." His stern words produced such an effect upon Trafford, that ovon Varley could have found it in his heart to pity him. "Do you know tho whole story asked Trafford, when ho could speak. "Has Norman told you 1" "No," said Varloy; "he has told me nothing. I wish to hoar nothing." " You must hear it," said Trafford. arley pointed to tho hut near which they wore standing, and Trafford followed him in. Tho two men stood facing each other, Trafford with his back to the door. "It is right that you should hear the truth. You may think worse of mo than you do already. It is of littlo consequence, though. Mr. Howard, I value your good opinion, moro than you can imagine and can believe. You accuse me of marrying Esmoralda for hor money." His face flushed as if with shame. " I plead guilty. 1 and mine were in terrible straits ; I was tempted, and I fell. As you have said, I married Esmoralda for the wealth which sho possessed, the money which could save my house from ruin." Varloy rolled a cigarette, his pale face set with a kind of impatient contempt. And you are what is called a nobleman 1" he said, " I deserve that," said Trafford, quietly. " But there is nothing that you can say which can bo more bitter than that which I have already said to myself." " I bog your pardon," said Varley, after

a moment. "On our wedding-day," continued Trafford, speaking very slowly, and as if he were communing with himself, rathor than addressing Varley,'' I made a discovery. I discovered that 1 loved her, loved her as passionately and truly as any mail ever loved since the world began." Vavloy raised his eyes for a moment and carefully lighted bis cigarette.

"I would have married her if she had been penniless, I looked forward to laying a life of devotion ab her feet. There had been one woman"—ha hesitated a scarcely perceptible second" whom I would have pub in Esmeralda's place— tell you this because I have resolved to conceal nothing from you-but my love for Esmeralda had erased, destroyed any feeling I may have had for any other woman. 1 loved her with all my heart. Bub ib was too late !" He sunk on to the table, and continued, with his head averted from Varley's piercing eyes: " She had discovered by a conversation which she had overheard, that I had married her for her money. Her pure soul rose in revolt. She refused to believe that

I had grown to love her. My punishment began ; wo virtually parted on our weddingday." Varley looked at him, but said nothing. "Ib was a punishment more terrible than you can imagine. We wore husband and wife in name only, living under the same roof as strangors—worse than strangers. We went to Belfayre, and there Norman Bruce was awaiting us. He and Esmeralda had met hore. I knew nothing of it, did not know that he loved her, and that he had asked her to bo his wife; though I might have suspected something from the confusion which they displayed when I took her to him on my wedding morning." Varley flung his cigarette away and turned with flashing eyes. " You accuse Esmeralda—" he began. " Hear me out!" said Trafford. " Norman and Esmeralda were with us at Belfayro. S!iO and I were separated; he loved her still; it was only natural that he, they, should be tempted. I see, now, how much oxcuse there was for her—yes, and for him." As ho spoke a shadow darkened the doorway, and a man stood in the entrance. It was Norman. He stopped at sight of the two men, and would have turned away, bub Varley, with a gesture which Trafford, sitting with boned head, did not see, signed to Norman to remain. Trafford sighed heavily.

"They were together, spent hoars to- ' gather. It whs only natural that she >hoa)d turn to him, the man who had loved her and still loved her, from the husband who she believed cared nothing for her. One wnWi L saw them together in the conservatory. They were agitated—l could hoar nothing-but I saw him kiss her." He wiped the sweat from his face and seemed liable to proceed ior a moment. "I went to hor that night and told her all I had seen, charged her. She denied nothing. Next morning she bad left me. He, too, had gone without leaving a word behind him. They had flown together. My father died that night; I could nob follow her—l was like a man distraught, I think I was [ indeed mad for a time. I followed them hero later on, and here, as you know, I've , found them."

Varley loooked straight before him. For the first time he saw tho terrible business from Trafford's point of view. It looked as if indeed Esmeralda had been guilty; and yet ho could not believe it. Ho glanced at Norman with a ptern, fierce inquiry, and saw on Norman's face a strange expression. It did nob look in Varley's eyes like guilt. "I have told you all," said Trafford; "and now I answer your question as to what 1 intend to do. As I have said, Esmeralda shall decide." " Esmeralda?" said Varley. " Yes," said Trafford, looking straight before him. "It shall rest entirely with her. The moment she is strong enough to see mo, to hear me, I shall go tocher and say, ' Esmeralda, I love you. You shall choose between me and Norman. If you return to mo, I swear that never by word or look will I remind you of what has passed. For that I am as answerable as you. It shall be buried, never to rise between us again. Choose between me and him. If your choice falls upon him, I will submit. You shall marry him; I will do all 1 can to help you to regain the happiness of which I robbed you ; I will leave you in peace with i.he man you love." Varley looked at him fixedly. " You will do this?" ho said, a strong man's reluctant admiration showing in his eyes. " I will," said Trafford, solemnly. _ Norman stepped into tho hut, his face lined with emotion, too agitated t? speak

for a moment. Trafford started to his feet, his face growing red, his lips compressed tightly. Norman looked him straight in the eyes. " Trafford !" he exclaimed. " You have overheard ?" said Trafford, in a constrained voice. "Good! I have but one word to add to you. You, too, will abide by her decision. If she should choose me, then you will go your way, and leave us in peace. You will refuse at your peril." (To be continued on Saturday next.