Chapter VI. A Happy Ending.

Otago Witness, Issue 1928, 2 November 1888, Page 31

Chapter VI. A Happy Ending.

Isabel had sought safety in flight. Why ? Ho had discovered her secret. What then ? As he asked himself, a smile flitted across his face. She was afraid. Of whom ? Herself. Paul Smith had recognised her, and the selfsame moment she had discovered the secret of her love. She fled, carrying with her, indeed, the vision of revenge she had planned, overwhelmed in the joy that filled her heart. She was but a loving, pitiful woman, incapable of the scornful rejection of the love she longed for and which was now humbly laid at her feet, to be refusedrejected. Trembling for herself and her weakness, she fled ; but only to return. Yearning to see him again, after some days wearying, she plunged once more into the gaieties of town. Her well-known equipage and lovely face were seen in the park. And although she fought against her love and denied herself to Paul, invariably being " not at home " to him, a day came when she could no longer refuse the interview he asked. In answer to his letter he was ushered into a prettily furnished room. Through a glass door, opening upon a small garden, he saw Isabel's Blender figure in softly falling while drapery. With slightly heightened colour, she entered and greeted him. There was a moment of embarrassing silence. She was the first to recover her composure, as seeking to release her hand from his, she murmured : " Mr Smith, I hope •-" What she hoped, he never asked. Covering the hand he held imprisoned in his own with kisses, he, in burning words, besought her forgiveness, and more than that, her love. With a fluttering movement, she sought to withdraw her hand from his firm grasp, then suddenly she let it lie passive in his. He looked up. The shadow of a smile dimpled the corners of her mouth, as she softly uttered : " This to me, the despised model ! " Encouraged by the tone of her voice he attempted to fold her in Iris loving arms ; but with a forbidding gesture she drew back. " Isabel, don't send me away from yon ! All these long years I have wanted you, and my lonely heart has ached for the love that was lost to me. And now that I am more worthy of you — now— you will^not refuse to let me call you mine? " " Mr Smith, you are paying me the highest compliment in offering me the hand and heart you refused to Isabel Gray. You can more fittingly bestow it on Lord Somerville's widow : I shall not disgrace you as a wife. Hush 1" she continued, as he sought to interrupt her." Hear me out. That day— so long ago— l called at the studio, and accidentally overheard your conversation with Hugo Sonierville. Determined that you should not have the chance of spoiling your life by marrying me, I went away and changed my address. Your friend found me out, and by his goodness and chivalry won me. — And now it may be as well to be clear upon one point, an important one. That is, that, wealthy as lam reputed, in marrying again, the only fortune I bring my husband is— myself, Isabel Somerville, nee Gray, The Somerville estates and moneys pass from my hands, leaving them empty." With a pretty and beseeching gesture, she opened her hands towards him, drawing them back hastily as he stretched out his own. " I am sure you do not care for a penniless bride, any mor3 than I care to bo a burden to the man I may wish to marry." Again she held out her hand, with quiet dignity, saying only the words " Good-bye." How would he bear the ordeal, she asked herself. To her intense joy, his countenance remained unchanged, he betrayed no disap. pointment. He was prepared to make an sacrifice to win her. Clasping her hand in both his own, he answered her Good-bye. "Better so, my darling ; I want you, yourself, not your surroundings. Thank Heaven, I have more than enough for both, and you shall never miss the luxuries which have been yours. You shall never regret giving yourself to me. I would rather you owed something to me, Isabel." His voice was earnest and truthful, and his eyes met hers with a trusting look. With a happy sigh she laid her hand caressingly upon his. A shadow crossed his face as his glance fell upon the wedding-ring encircling her slender finger. It was but a momentary pang. Had she seen it, he asked himself on his homeward way, as he lived the happy hour he had passed with her over and over again. At her earnest entreaty he had reluctautiy left her to return again in the evening. And she was alone once more with her new happiness ; alone, but never to feel lonely again. Face to face with a future dawning afresh «om out the dim yet unforgotten past. The past ! As the words rose to her lips she shivered ; the look of aversion he bad cast 'ipon her wedding-ring, the symbol of

another's love, pleaded for this last sacrifice. Had she not given away her heart, had she not promised her hand ? Slowly she drew off the golden tokep of love placed there by the hand of a loving husband now dead, and taking a key from a chain she always wore, she opened an ebony and ivory inlaid cabinet, and pressing a spring, disclosed a deep drawer behind a recess. Kissing the little ring sadly and pitifully she dropped it in. It fell upon a sealed letter. She started nervously as the ghost of the past confronted her. No need to read again the well remembered superscription : "To my dear wife, on the day she accepts another's love, or on her thirtieth birthday." * Her hand shakes, the blood flames across her face and fades away, leaving her, if possible, whither than before. Eeverently, she breaks the seal. A message of a mighty love has followed her from beyond the grave. Through a haze of blinding tears she reads his wish for her happiness, begging her to accept the sum of £40,000 he bequeaths to her as a token of his love. For further particulars he refers her to his solicitors. Unselfish Hugol His love had watched over her in her loneliness and ignorance of the world; and in depriving her of the golden bait of a fortune, he had tested the disinterestedness of her lover. Was it surprising that pride in that lover, who had borne the test nobly, should mingle in the tribute of gratitude she paid to her husband's memory 1 When she again met her accepted lover, her eyes were dim with hushed tears, as in silence she put Hugo's letter into his hands. Paul started, and deeply moved, exclaimed: " How generous ! " Then seeing the tears in her eyes, he kissed them away, adding : " I will be as good to you as he was, my darling ; better, I could not be."— "Argosy."