THE BARRIER.

New Zealand Herald, Volume L, Issue 15250, 13 March 1913, Page 4

THE BARRIER.

I PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARBANGEMEST.I

i A STORY OP SOCIETY SINS AND i SINNERS. a■ . - f J BY E. ALMAZ STOUT. s 1 ——— COPYRIGHT. I t ' ', CHAPTER XVI. MAW AND WIFE. 3 As the sinister words rang out everyone in the church turned round to gape and t stare. Glory turned deathly white and stood as though turned to stone. A dark red flush flamed into Richard's . faoe, as he stepped forward and spoke a I few words to the clergyman, ;who went down the church, and, drawing a heavilyveiled woman aside, spoke to her for some minutes. Then he came slowly back, whispered a few words to the bride and bridegroom, , saying the woman who had made the commotion was apparently quite mad, for she > admitted she had no other object than that of making a sensation when she had j interrupted the proceedings, and the service went on. ! Glory gave Richard one searching look, > which he met unflinchingly, and after that she never glanced at him. At last it was all over, the fatal words t were said, the marriage blessing pronounced on a union which Glory felt de- ( served no blessing, and she, Glory Seldon, was now, for good or ill, Richard Framp- ; ton's wife, till death should them part. i On the short drive back to the Park she asked him if he could account for the . scene in church, and ho said he had not seen the woman's face, but if it was the • woman he fancied it might be, she was an hysterical acquaintance who would 1 afterwards be deeply ashamed of what she , had done. "That is all I wanted to know," his wife answered coldly. "Of course,, your ' past flirtations are nothing to me. But you cannot wonder, after such a humiliating scene, that I asked you if the woman , was a stranger or— a friend of yours." He looked at her steadily. "I can only trust that you will believe ' me when I tell you, as I have told you ■before that there is no woman who has any claim on me in any way." Glory shrugged her shoulders. "We won't discuss it. It was horrible, I never want to refer to it again. Ah, at last we are home!" And she sprang out of the carriage without waiting for Ear husband to<»help her. The farce of the honeymoon was over, and Mr. and Mrs. Richard Frampton were back in England. Dick had bought the lease of a fine house in Portman Square, and had given Glory carte blanche to furnish it as she pleased. While the house was being got ready they stayed at the Carlton Hotel, which relieved them of the necessity of tete-a-tete meals, and where Glory could see a good deal of her father, who was still staying at his club, where he was happier than alone in his great house in Westshire. He had not succeeded in letting. Westacre Park, and though from time to time he spoke of going down and opening just three or four rooms he still remained in town. It would have been hard to say who was the more thankful to get back, Glory or Dick. Abroad they had been of necessity largely thrown into each other's society, and had got on each other's nerves. An ordinary, usual honeymoon is always a trying time for botlj, husband and wife, finding out each other's'angles and corners, stumbling across little unsuspected pitfalls, little undiscovered depths and heights. But when there ie no glamour, no romance, no faintest suggestion of love to help them over the difficult places, it is apt to develop into a nightmare. Glory, bored, furious with herself as she realised the wreck she had made of her life which had opened so fairly,"t made no pretence of disguising her feelings for her husband. He, realising and sympathising with much of her frame of mind, bore with her with a chivalry and a patience which only irritated her. Ho got into the way of going for lone walks and expeditions alone, leaving her to her own devices,' and only joining her at meals. They cut it as short as they decently could, and were quite friendly and pleasant as they chatted on their waV from Dover

»8 wiuy cililtMSU OH Mien nay juum i™»« to London, in their relief at getting -back to normal conditions of life. The furnishing of her new home was an interest and occupation for Glory, and she took a pride in getting it perfect in every detail. She was. so busy that she . had hardly time to think of the husband who made no claim whatever! on her society or time though he was always ready to do anything or go anywhere when she asked him to serve ner. She even grew to tolerate his presence at meals and to find him an interesting companion when they went out to theatres and dinners, and took to asking his advice on various matters of the house and so on. At last it was all finished, and all they had to do was to take possession. Glory asked her father to dine alone with her the first night she slept in her new home. " Richard of course will be out, but you won't mind an evening alone with me will you, dad?" she said, slipping her hand into his. "It will be like old times, Glory," he replied, kissing her upturned face. "I am getting quite fond of Richard, but you know I love to have my girl to myself.' Lord Westacre only arrived at'Portman Square just in time for dinner, and they had no chance of any private conversation until dinner was over and the servants had gone. Then Glory rose. " Come to my special sanctum, dad; I have ordered a fire there. Bring your cigar and we'll have coffee up there, and I will sit on a stool and lean against your knees, and we'll pretend I'm a girl at home again." When he was settled in the big chair, drawn up before the fire, and Glory was in her favourite place at his feet, he said to her suddenly : "Why didn't you warn mo, Glory, of what Richard and his father were going to do Of course, I have talked of my difficulties freely to Richard, but I had no idea why he was asking all the questions he did. Sometimes I thought them iust a little inquisitive, but never suspected their object." Glory looked at him, bewildered. "I don't know what you are talking about." "I mean—about the Park." Glory shook his arm. "Don't be so tiresomo, dad. I haven't the least idea what you mean." He let his cigar go out and he stared at her. "Do you mean Richard hasn't told you that he and his father have paid off all the mortgages on the Park, have cleared off practically every debt I have in the world, and refuse to accept any thanks for it?. Richard says he and his people gave you no wedding present at the time of your marriage, because they meant this to be your wedding gift." Glory was .kneeling in front of him, her two hands on his knees, and her beautiful face was very white. " Do you mean that they have done this, and that—that the Park is yours again free of encumbrance The old man nodded. "Yes, isn't it wonderful ? My own small income is quite enough to keep it up comfortably if not lavishly, now that it hasn't all to go in paying the interest of the mortgages. It— it hurt my pride, Glory, as you can guess, to accept it. But Richard was so—so humble over it, I couldn't have thrown his gift back in his face. He declared your settlements would have been .larger if he hadn't had this idea in his mind. My dear child, he may not be by birth all one could wish, but he is an upright, honourable gentleman,, and he is devoted to you." Glory gave a sudden, unexpected little laugh. "How funny it seems to think of Richard devoted to anyone or anything but duty and his work. But I knew nothing whatever of this. He has not said a word to me." " Of course, I thought you knew. You must thank your husband for me, Glory. I was so overwhelmed this morning I found it difficult to say anything, and Richard ;,:■,.. '■■ •;.■■■. ■"■'■' j ',■'■'■',' " .-. A' . '■"

refused so absolutely to let me thank him» You see, he would have it that it was a gift to you, for he said he knew you would rather know your old home was saved from the intrusion of strangers than anything in the world." "That is quite true," Glory said slowly. " But I— l almost wish it had not been Richard who had done it." She waited up for her husband that night, though she fell asleep in her chair before he came home. " You up at this hour, Glory "he said, in astonishment, when he entered the room. He had seen the light under the door of her boudoir and had knocked before entering. " Yes. I specially wanted to see you. Richard, why did you pay off all dad's debts and clear the Park ? " An embarrassed look came into his face. " Oh, he has been telling you, has he? Then didn't he tell you it was my father's and my wedding gift to you ? " "But you gave me generous settlements at the time.' " That was your right. We gave you no I real gift. . Itit has been the greatest hap- j piness to me to arrange and plan this thing, 1 which I thought would give you pleasure. ' (To be continued daily.)