THE PURPLE MASK.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XL, Issue 12401, 14 October 1903, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE PURPLE MASK.

_ BY ADELAIDE STIRLING. , 'Author of "Serine's Second Choice," "Above All Things," etc.

CHAPTER Xll—(Continued.) Phtxs.ida felt her heart beat as she reached the stage door and saw Stanhope leaning against the wall; his clear-cut late perfectly impassive, his mouth set a little, end the flower in his coat showing white where his Inverness cape hung loosely froir. his broad shoulders. He had always worn violets; in her cay they had been "her flowers. She could not know that he had never bought a violet since the first night he had seen her dancing in her purple mask. " Did I keep yon waiting she raid, quietly, as he stepped forward to meet her. "I had to change.'' -Not at all,' returned Mr. .Stanhope. "your carriage is here, I think. \ou wanted to speak to me.'" Ho might- have been speaking to the merest stranger. "Yes," said Pbyllida, absently. ** Lut it can wait, till alter supper. 1 told you I wanted you to take me somewhere to supper!'' "I am—delighted," he said, with a lithe hesitation. He could not believe that mis was the girl who had written him that, note in which she had bade him forget her. A sudden joy rose quick in his heart. Did it, mean that something had happened to break down the barrier between mem-' As he sat in the carriage close to her his eves were full ox the love that sue would have none of. My Phil!"' he thought to himself; out he dared not- say it. i "Tell the man where to go,' she said, shortly, and as he leaned from the window„ •* Moliny's is the best, I think, and the quietest. I would take you home with me, only, Rosalind might be" sitting up for me.'' Mr. Stanhope's sudden joy died within* him. There was something curiously hard and business-like in Phyllida's voice, something icy in her manner. "Mo lino's, of course," he said slowly, snrprisedlv, "if you like! But it's pretty disreputable." Phvllida laughed. "Well, I can't throw stones," she said, recklessly, "or else I shouldn't be here." " Why' on earth shouldn't you come to supper with me, Phil'/" Stanhope said with annoyance. " But you're not going to Molino's?" "Bah! I often go there," she replied, with as much composure as if it were true. "Since Anthony had to bo asked to keep the secret of her relationship to Rosalind, there must be some ostensible reason for it; she would make herself out as bad as ever

she could. " Well, you are aren't going now," returned Anthony, obstinately, ami he leaned out and gave ail older to the coachman. " Why shouldn't you come to supper with hix, Phil? Tell me!" "Every reason," answered Miss Blake, yawning." " Someone"pointedly —'" might ' see me and then, there"d be trouble. Do yon think you're the only pebble on the beach?" flippantly. " I wish to God I did."' "Who was the woman with you to-night, : ■■ - and what did you with her'.'" : ; he asked, as carelessly as if her heart was not wrung at the hopelessness in his voice. " Lady Muirdale, RavelstoiCs sister-in-law." Phyllida's heart turned over. Vi hat if she were too late, if he had already aired all he knew! *' Did she ask you about —if you knew who I was?" faintly. : "She did," said Stanhope* "and 1—" with ' •■•'■» piuise—"knew nothing about you. Why, Phil," reproach in his voice, " did you think I was going to give you away to the longest - '"',"■■-'• tongued woman in town?" Lady Muirdale, Rosalind's sister-in-law to be, and this was the way men. spoke of her! It did not sound promising, for Rosa- •' lind. " Then you didn't'say I was an estimable female who lived retired in her own flat, ; .with a sister and a child?" she questioned feverishly. "No, I didn't," composedly. "I lied. I don't do it well* as a rule, but I did it to admiration to-night." "Good 'boy!" said Phyllida, with relief. She laid her cool band on his and moved it ( . quickly away again; Anthony's pulse was going like a mill-wheel. "Don't, darling," he said, very low. "I V can't hear it." ? "Don't what?" she returned. "I always ; touch people I like." But she was ashamed to wait for an answer, she who had never ■of her own will touched any man but Anthony Stanhope himself, , " Tell me about Rave'lston's sister-in-law," she went on sharply ; " what's she like?" "You saw her," imperturbably. " That's what she's like. ' And she and Julian live in daily terror that Ravelston may get married, and put spokes in his wheel if ever he looks < at a woman." "Who's Julian?"- her hand clinching on her knee. " Ravelston's younger brother, Lord Muiridale, and at present his heir. Why?" : . " I'll tell you presently." ■ " What made you send for me?" he asked ■f abruptly. : "1 wanted you; and I wanted to see if you. would leave your pink lady if I told you to. How did you do it?" - "Her husband was there too, sitting on > any other side. I just got up and left. I But I'd have come if I'd had to pretend a sudden attack of lunacy to do it!" passion- ■ ately. "Oh, Anthony, don't say that," with a cry of horror. You don't know what it means to me." "No," said Stanhope under his breath !"I only know it made you call me Anthony." The carriage stopped and he helped her" out. " You extravagant wretch, the Prince's is the dearest place for supper in town," she cried, as she saw where she was. "And the best," returned Mr. Stanhope. "It's a pity if I can't take you to a decent , place. Send your man away. I'm going to drive you home," with his head held high. Miss Blake accompanied him into the smartest, most fashionable restaurant in London, where,, if you looked at a peach it cost a pound. The room was not crowded ; they found a •table in a secluded corner easily enough, and Phyllida looked at the luxurious room with eves that scarcely saw it. Warm as it was, '■ ' she kept her whit© velvet cloak huddled "• '■:.' round her, she was chilled to the Done with [ • pain at being here with Anthony, and yet so ! far removed from him. When she wrote him that note she had meant never to look on his face again nor would she -for her own Jieed, but this was Rosalind's. Anthony ordered supper, recklessly; a cold trout with a marvellous sauce, sweet- ...,.' breads done with olives ; quail iced asparagus ; strawberries with marashino ; wonderful little ices that looked like anything else en earth. He looked so handsome, so contented as . he sat opposite her in his faultless evening dress, that for a moment Phyllida Blake almost forgot her part; only for a moment, •while she wished, inconsequently, that he had had violets in his buttonhole, instead -, of that corpse-like stephanotis blossom. How was she ever to sit there and eat all that sickening supper when what she wanted to do was to be alone with Anthony somewhere in the dark, and tell him in a whisper all /her story, let him help her or judge her as he. , J chose, but at least have the truth between r • them. But Rosalind's voice ran in her ears as she thought, rang wild, despairing, as it pleaded for freedom and happiness. It's my life, my secret, Phil! Let me have my happiness." ' ' It was the Purple Mask, and not Phyllida Blake, that pushed her cloak back from her dazzling throat and arms and looked with hard blue eyes at Stanhope across the table. v • She would eat, drink, and be merry to- ,~ night; it was the only night out of "all her life that she would ever sit like this with him, and she would drink it to the dregs. Besides, if she sat quietly, and neither ate nor drank, he might think her a sinner, perhaps, but a weak, remorseful one. And she meant him to think her evil, but triumphant, glorying in her shame. She looked at him as she lifted her champagne to her lips. ,;," "Times have changed, haven't they she cried, recklessly. "I used to have hot milk ' for supper when I was Phyllida Blake! Her© is luck, Mr. Stanhope.''

| " And happiness, Phil," he returned. ! "Bah, I've got it," the girl said callously. I " I've all I want in this world. Do you know they say I am the best dancer in London Stanhope nodded ; !be knew they also said anany other things; chiefly about her carriage and her dancing gowns and her diamonds, and why the Duke of Ormont was racing so fast through his money. " Anyone cap lie happy," Phyllida went, on with a sudden, wistlKilness ; " that's why I asked you to come to supper, no matter who saw us." '• You've made me happy enough, though probably I'm a fool for my pains," he said, roughly. " Oh, it's not your happiness I'm agitated about," she responded, superbly ; " it's Rosalind's." "Well," rather flatly, "what about it?" Phyllida was grave* as death as she answered. "She wants to m:*rry Lord Earelston, and I'm going to let her if they both promise never to tell that .she is my .sister. For that mattter they have promised. There's only you left who knows, and I want you to promise too. That's why I sent tor you." " Why?" said Anthony, as though he did not know exactly : " why shouldn't, lliev tell?"

"Think." the girl slid slowly, "of me, o! Maisifi —think, besides, what the common, gossip about in? amounts to, and what the truth' is—would the woman in the Purple Mask be a nice sisier-in-law for Lord Ravelston? Why, you know," in slow, deliberate tones, " that not a woman of Lis family would sit in the room with me—and my i reputation." •' It can't be done, Phil: it will leak out." lie had wince as she spoke and she saw it. •'lt can," quietly, "and ifc>must. They will never tell : 1 never will, and I don't think you will." " flood (!od ! do you, think I talk about you to all the town?" siting unbearably. "You know I will never give ifaway; but someone eke will, somf; day." Phvllicln'.ii throat swelled. "I'll take care'of that," she said, "and you see as well ■as I do that if Rosalind is to be Lady Rayelston. the world had better not know thai; she ever had anything to do with me." " Did Ravelston give in to casting you off after you've supported your sister all this time?" inquired Stanhope. "For yoi, have, you know; lately her articles would only have been token > by— "Hush.!'' she said angrily, "I only don't toll me. Yes, I .nay say," with a smile he did not like, " that Lord Ravelston f'/id not make any undue fuss at all about, my conditions. "I am to go there, you know, when they are alone, and send Maijsie there,'" quoting in spite of herself, her.' actress' instinct strong in her. Stanhope eyed her with rage and pity fighting in him: lightly as she spoke lie knew what it was to her, that Rosalind, to be received, must disown her only sister. "Well, all I can say is that he's a. contemptible cur,"' he said verv slowly, " and that it can't be done. If you go there at all, it's sure to come out."

" I won't go there." Her voice was suddenly very weary. " I only said it to quiet them. And then it will be heaven for Maisie to go to and have ponies and country air."

"You could give her both," he replied, unconvinced; "and how is a niece to bs explained if-a sister is wanting?" So Anthony was like all the rest, and thought, she had other sources of income than Dare's salary that had been strained to the utmost •lately. Well, that was what she wanted hurt to think; that the Purple Mask had parted her for ever from him and Rosalind ; and that it was her past life that must be a secret, not Rosalind's.

" The niece's mother," she said with a quick laugh, "will be away; that is simple enough. And the niece will not appear till all talk 'rout the marriage is over. Are you going to promise me?" "Yes. I promise you; whatever von want kept secret I'll. keep. But I wish," stretching his brown, strong hand across the table, "that you'd give me your secret to keep. Won't you, Phil—not ever?" his voice, how tender, how pleading. The girl's face grew white as her gown. " The secret of the woman in the Purple Mask," she said. "It would take a long time to tell, Mr. Stanhope, and give you not the least interest:—or amusement. "Besides, this is our.good-bye; you are not likely to see me again."" She picked up 1 her champagne glass and drained it. Here's luck to the Purple Mask," she cried ; " the best of hick is yours to be rid of her."

She put down the empty glass, sudden fright on her face.

"Anthony, quick," she whispered, "Who's that coming in? J— don't look like Rosalind, do I? No one would think I was her sister?" Stanhope turned sharply.

Opposite them, with an unknown man, her lorgnette to her eyes, staring straight at them, was Lady Muirdale. \

"There is the first act in your little comedy," he said angrily, as he' signed to the waiter to bring the' bill. "Look like her? Oh, no," with irony in his voice. Phyllida, in her white frock, was the living image of Rosalind, only paler. " Come, Phil," he said, "let us go. lam going home with you, say what you like. You can't drive- all that way in a hansom by yourself."

"You're not my master," she said, but without a trace of her old spirit. Somehow, to-night, not to be taken care of would have killed her, little as she deserved care.

She put on her cloak with her languid, lovely grace, and led the way out. Lady Muirdale watched every . step of their exit through her lorgnette with an open, amused stare; but she did not give the faintest sign of recognition to Mr. Stanhope, and she took Phyllida in from head to foot.

(To be continued on Saturday next.)