HEART AND SWORD.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXV, Issue 10836, 20 August 1898, Page 3 (Supplement)

HEART AND SWORD.

BY JOHN STRANGE WINTER, Author of "Bootle's Baby."' "Beautiful Jim," "A Magnificent Young Man," "A Born Soldier," " Cavalry Life," etc. [COPYRIGHT.]

CHAPTER XI. MRS. GREGORY ALISON - . As Gregory Alison's time in England grew shorter, so was he proportionately less inclined to leave Kit behind him. At that time she was earning fifteen pounds a week, and there was no prospect of her. earnings being less, rather, indeed, the contrary. Her profession was by that time regularly spoken of by the Alison family as one speaks of the unalterable, and if Gregory had suggested her throwing up the stage and going to India to live on his pay and the allowance he received from his father, he would have received but scant sympathy from any member of his own family. Yet, not unnaturally, nay, I should be more honest if I said naturally enough— more he thought'about the coining four years when he would be away from her the less he liked the prospect. " Kit," lie said to her one day, about two montns before the time fixed for sailing, "I hate going to India and leaving you." " So do I," she replied quickly. " You do love me.'" he continued. " Oh, Greg, you know that I do." "Very much';" " Yes, Greg, very much ; you know it." " Would you make a sacrifice for me, Kit?" A sacrifice? That would depend. What sort of a sacrifice?" "Kit," he said, hurriedly, not answering her question directly, "I can't go out and leave you here by yourself— where you are continually under observation, continually in the way of meeting new people, open to all sorts of temptations. Kit, give it up ; come out witli me to India ! We shall live ever so comfortably on what I have." She looked at him more than doubtfully. For a moment she was swayed by her inclination which was towards him. The next minute, however, the thought of her work, her career, her ambitions and her triumphs came upon her and she shook her head. "Don t ask me to do that," she said. "How could I give up when I have had such a success, when even your mother admits that I was right? Dear old Greg, you know that I love you, but if the prospect of living on your pay and your allowance was so terrible before what difference is there now? I shall j not need less money than I did when Auntie died, but more, because I have been accustomed to more; and it is madness to talk of giving up a profession in which I have succeeded so far and in which I am making so much money. Your people would think I was mad, your mother would blame me all my life. I would do a great deal-for you, dear old boy,' you know that I would; you know that 1 love you ; but it is asking too much, Greg, indeed it is." He groaned in utter dejection. " I hate leaving you," he ground out between his teeth. "'Once my back is turned, every Johnnie in London will be after you." "Every Johnnie in London has not been after me so far." "No, because I have always been about; you've always had me to turn to for everything ; but when I am thousands and thousands of miles away—what then?" "Well, then I shall be as now. Of course, I shall miss you, but you will always be with me in spirit. Dear old Greg," she said, putting her hand upon his shoulder and looking at him very tenderly, " you don't suppose that because you are going to India, I shall pick up young men in the street and carry on anyhow, do you?" "I am not afraid of your picking up young men in the street, Kit; if there was nothing else to fear I should go away easy in mind. It's the fellows you don't meet in the street that trouble me—the fellows that you meet in the ordinary way of society." " But you can trust me, Greg?" " Oil, mv dear, in the ordinary way of trusting, of course I can trust you. But supposing some fellow comes along, and you get in the course of time to like him better than me. Where shall I be then?" " But I shouldn't allow any fellow to come along and like him better than you! You are talking nonsense ! I have given you my promise, and that, to me, is precisely the same as if we were married." Innocently enough the girl's words put a new idea into the young man's head ; "As if we were married! Kit, why shouldn't we be married at once?" " Because 1 cannot ieave my work." "No, dear, you misunderstand me. If you were my wife, it would be safer for you, and easier for me, that you should be here and I out in India.. Let us be married at once, Kit— once, without a day's delay more than is absolutely necessary to arrange the formalities. I have leave almost until the last moment. It need not disturb your work at all. Kit, Kit, say that you will! Say that you love me enough to be married right away, and you will send me awayeven though it is for four long, weary years— as happy us a king!" She was not hard to persuade. She only made one stipulation. " If your father and mother consent, I will do what you like," she said, "and I think perhaps that it would be as well—l mean is would perhaps be' easier for me when you are gone—" " And, perhaps," he said, "you might come out to me Between your engagements." "I don't mean to have any time between my engagements," she said, soberly. However, having gained the major point, he did not trouble himself about the minor one. He promised that he would run down without delay to Little Gracethorpe, consult his father and mother, and make arrangements for the marriage to take place as quickly as possible. So that night he went down to the Rectory and talked the situation over with his father, who fully agreed with him that it would he the very best possible thing to give Kit the protection and advantage of the married status. " And, as you say, my.dear b"y, there may come a time when she needs a long holiday —for she has been under a tremendous strain all these months and she may be glad to have a few months of complete change, such as a trip to India would he. I think that is a very happy idea, Greg—an extremely happy idea. We will go and tell your mother, and then do you make arrangements for carrying the matter through with as little delay as possible. Of course I will come up and marry you. I suppose it would hot be possible for you to be married here?" " I don't see why not. We wish it to be as quiet as possible, and Kit could easily come down for the day. I suppose a license would be as easy to get for bore as for London?" " Oh, certainly." ■■'/<• So Gregory went back with the news to Kit. But Kit decided that she would prefer to be married in London, if it was all the same to Gregory. "If I am married at Little Gracethorpe," she said, " where I have lived all my life, there is bound to be a great fuss; it could not possibly be kept a secret, and I should have to wear a very smart frock, and I would very much rather that it took place in town. Besides.that, I must ask Sir John Trench and Mr. Lavender, and it might be most inconvenient to them to spare a whole day from town." . ; ' ; .;" : " ~.-, ,■ .;..,-. 7 1 need hardly say that to Gregory it was all one whether they were married at Little Gracethorpe or in London,' by one person or by another, > quietly, or with considerable fuss.' His only desire was'to be married, and to be married with as little delay as possible. ; Arrangements were, therefore made for the wedding to be performed at Kit's parish church, and the dateTvas fixed for the very first day of Gregory Alison's last leave prion to embarking for India. 1 This arrange-; ment left Kit sufficient time to order a new frock for the occasion. .. Nothing bride-like she chose, but a smart walking-dress, .such

as would stand her in good stead during the few months to come. 'Her next step was to go down to Sir John Trench's chambers and apprise him of the next move in her life, ; ';; ; "Sir John," she said, "I won't keep you five minutes." ■■'.'■■'* ■'■'■"''■' ':,--'■

"You may keep me fifteen or fifty," said Sir John, blandly.;." ~'! Thank you very much. Well, Sir John, I have a piece of news for you." •;.. " Another triumph?" . '•.:' ■; "No, not exactly a triumph this time. 3st I am going to be married." ' Going to be married! Not really?" "Yes, I am."' 0 ".' . ;■.•'-'■ " And to chuck the profession?" Oh, no; but Gregory is very unhappy at going to India and leaving me, and I have consented to be married. He thinks it will be a protection to me, and all that sort of thing." " And therein he is quite right," said Sir Jolm'Trench. " I fully agree with him. It is the most sensible thing that you can do —that is, talcing for granted that you really care for him and really wish to spend the greater part of your lite with him. I mean this," he said, shifting his chair so as to be able to look at her, "you do really care for him— is not a boy and girl fancy?" " Not a bit of it, 'Sir John; I really care for him." " Then the best thing that you can do, as he must go to India—and I suppose it is practically necessary that he should go to India— be married. It is a most wise arrangement, and will be a great advantage to you in your lonely life in London. When is it to be?" "On the tenth; and I want you, Sir John —would would you give me away?" "Of course I will. By the bye, ( what does my friend Lavender say about it?" " I haven't told him yet." " All, well, I dare say he'll be very pleased. You will be much less anxiety and trouble to him as Mrs. Gregory Alison than you must be as Miss Mallinder." " I don't consider that I am any trouble to him as Miss Mallinder," said Kit with dignity. "No— you are not in his company just now, and, therefore, I suppose you are not. As soon as you go back into the Coliseum Company you will be a tremendous anxiety to everybody concerned." " I don't see why." " No, I don't suppose you do; but facts are facts, nevertheless. You are going to tell him, of course?" " Oh, yes, I am going to ask him to come. I don't suppose he will, because he never has any time, but I shall ask him. And the Archdeacon is coming, of coursehe will perform the ceremony they're all coming. There is not going to be any party, you know, Sir John, but of course I shall send Lady Trench an invitation, and I shall be more than glad if she comes, because —becausemy mother-in-law likes her, and it will make things pleasant all round. Persuade her to come, Sir John, won't you?" "I don't think she'll want any persuading, my dear," said Sir John. " Eh? What did you say, Gordon?" "Sir John, there's a gentleman very anxious to see you." "I'll go," said Kit, "I'll go. Good-bye. I'll send the invitation to Chesham Place tonight." She got into a cab at the entrance to the court, and drove straight to the Coliseum. Mr. Lavender was there and was busy, hut on hearing that it was Miss Mallinder who wished to see him, he sent a message that he would be free in five minutes, and in a little more than that time Kit was shown into the room in which he had first received her. "Well?" he said, in kind, abrupt tones. "Well? Are they going to take the piece off?" " -Not that I have heard of," she replied. " Oh, really. I made sure that you were coming to tell me that you were released." " No," said Kit, " I came to tell you something else, Mr. Lavender." " Yes. And that is?"

" Well, the fact is, I am going to be married."

''Are you indeed? 01), that is rather sudden, isn't it?" "Not exactly sudden," said Kit. "But the fact is, Sir. Alison objects to go to India without me, and—" " And you are going?" '• No, I cannot give up my work. So I have promised to nurry him instead." ■" And stay behind?" "Yes. It satisfies him, and be thinks it would be better for me."

" And in some senses," said Philip Lavender, "he is right. In some senses I think Von are beginning your married life under a mistake." '

"But why?" she faltered. < " Well, it is a separating life at the best of times; that is the worst thing that can be laid to the charge of the dramatic profession ; it does tend to bring in other interests, because, even when both husband and wife are of the same profession, it is not always possible for them to he together, and it is impossible to enter the marriage state, and keep quite as one, when interests are divided. All your fiance's interests are, naturally, in a totally different life; all yours will be here. When yon meet you will not be the same as you are the day that von part." "Why not?" "Because you are human beings," said Philip Lavender, very gravely; "because human nature is only human nature, and it is easier to keep unchanged in a stagnant life than in an active one. I know," he went on, "that there are people who think that; there is a good deal of similitude between the Army and the Stage. They are mistaken. 1 know it of my own experience. The woman who is accustomed to an army life can never assimilate herself really with the interests of the stage; the woman who is accustomed to a dramatic life finds herself hampered and checked on all hands by the social restrictions which seem to be essentially a part of a soldier's life. It may seem to the outsider that both are more or less nomadic careers, that both are what we are accustomed to 'call devil-may-care states of existence. But it is not so. I have never yet," lie went on, " known the soldier who was absolutely free from the trammels of conventionality, and I have never yet known the actor who could cheerfully conform thereto, It is curious, but such is my experience. Have you thought carefully over the matter?" " Oh, yes, and it is too late to draw back now, even if I wished to do so." " And you do not wish! Well, well, let us hope that time will be merciful to you; that you will find in a few years that if Philip Lavender understood how to run a theatre he was hopelessly out of it in his matrimonial predictions." " And you will come to my wedding, Mr. Lavender?" said Kit. " Yes, yes, I will come. Do your fiance's people consent?" " Oh, yes; his father is going to marry us, and they are all coining. Sir John Trench is going to give me away." "Then," said he, "I will come in the guise of the ornamental guest. You have asked Miss Warrender?" " I didn't like to do so," said Kit. "Oh, you should ask her. She takes a great interest in you. You should ask her; it will give her great pleasure if you do so." He ruse as he spoke, and Kit, taking the hint, rose also; and as he took her hand to say farewell, he looked down upon her with eyes full of pity. " I hope that you will be happy," he said, "I hope it will all turn out for the best. You have been very fortunate so far, but not more so than you deserve. For some things I wish that you had waited until you were a little further along your journey— little more firmly fixed in your mind. But there, there, go away, and don't think that I was a croaker, or that I will come to your wedding and be a skeleton at the feast." The only other guests whom Kit invited were her manager, Harry Blake, and Walter Langton, and the day following she was surprised by a visit from Lady Trench, who came to suggest that as Sir John was going to act the part of father to her she should be allowed to take the place of her mother, and receive the party in Chesham Place after the ceremony. ■ ''• .. _,' "But the trouble, Lady Trench!" . '-, " Not a trouble at all, but a very great pleasure," said Lady Trench, decidedly. "It .will please Sir John, and it will be good for you, and as your husband is so soon to leave you, it is better that you should be married to a certain extent with a flourish of trumpets. And another thing, it will do you no harm with your future husband's family that you had other friends able and willing to help you besides themselves. '. So shall we look upon it as a settled thing?" : So it came about that Gregory Alison and Kit Mallinder were married by the Archdeacon, and that Kit was given away by Sir John Trench, the eminent Q.C., whose wife entertained the whole party to luncheon afterwards.

: It was a most gay and merry festivity. The great actor, Philip Lavender, proposed

the health of the bride and groom, and Gregory Alison returned thanks in the most' . approved and charming manner. If Kit blushed it was because her praises -were : sounded so freely./ There was none of the usual fuss and dampness which mostly cha- \ racterises wedding parties;" everybody was : gay and bright and;happy. Kven Mrs. : Alison forgot to be at all on her dignity and • • joined as heartily as any in wishing health and happiness to the newly-married couple. ■=■ Then, just at the last, the great actress, • Mary Warraider, created a diversion, for she ; - seized a moment's silence, and rose to her ,',: feet. ,v" ■;• ■-. ' ■;"■/■ ■■";'/■' ■'■•-v i"Ladies and gentlemen," she said, looking ■■-'. round the table. with the sweetest'and most . winning smile in the world, " I wish to propose a toast. I beg you to excuse mo if Ido no: acquit myself very well, for I am wholly. unaccustomed to public speaking. If this were not so private an occasion I would not -Vj venture to make anything in the form of a v speech now, but lis we are all intimate friends—or, if not intimate friends, intk inately'connected one with another—l. will ■. venture thus far. Ladies and gentlemen, -V you have drunk health, happiness, and pros--', perity to everybody, but there is ono exis- :. tence in the future to which you have not -•■'■■ alluded, and to which you given no sign of good will. We have drunk to the health of ■■ • Mrs. Gregory Alison, we have wished her and her gallant spouse everything that ' is good and happy and delightful, but nobody has thought of giving the toast which I now ask you to drink; ' Success to Mallinder, the actress!'" ' ■ •/' (To be continued on Wednesday next.)