BLAKE KESTON'S VOW.

Otago Witness, Issue 3277, 3 January 1917, Page 48

BLAKE KESTON'S VOW.

TES SFOYELIBT. [FonusiiKD cv Special Arrangement.]

By WINIFRED CARTER. Author of "Ashes of Eden," "Little No body," " Her Mother's Voice," etc. [COPYIiIGHT.]

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTERS I AND ll.— Blake Heston and his sweetheart, Violet Daunforth, are punning on tire Thames. A stranger gazes at Violet admiringly. It is' Binns, the sausage man, worth a hundred thousand pounds. Violet encourages him. She complains to Blake that she wants those things that wealth can buy. Afterwards she engages to meet her new admirer on Hammersmith Bridge. Arrived at her mother s flat at Barnes, Violet complains of headache. In the evening she dresses in her best, and goes to meet Binns. In ignorance of her daughter’s designs, Mrs Daunforth stalks Violet, and notes the lovers’ meeting on the bridge. Indignantly she confronts them. CHAPTER lII.—A WOMAN’S WILES. ■ T was with a beating heart that Vi had got ready for her visit to Hammersmith Bridge. She wanted to look her very best, it was- essential that she should look her best if she wanted to make this man marry her. ff'T* It was with a sigh of exultation that she viewed herself in her new white dress and purple feathered hat. How lovely she looked I Her starry eyes were so innocently gay, her slim figure and enchanting manners, so charming unsophisticated. If the man didn’t fall down and worship at her feet she would take Blake for ever, but she had no doubt. What man could resist her? She had no false modesty. She knew the worth of her beauty, and for the first time realised that it had a marketable value. She knew she daren’t see her mother again before she went. She would be puzzled to account for her dressing up. She caught the bus, and realising that she would be early, and that wouldn’t do, she went on o the Broadway and walked slowly back, enjoying the Hash of tire river traffic and the occasional lights from a barge that had already lit up. Then she reached the bridge and saw Binns step out. For a moment her heart failed her. Standing up, he was undersized, and fat. She did wish he had been handsome. A woman ought to have a goodlooking man to show her off she thought distastefully; but then she remembered that he came to her hung with gold. _ It W as for his gold she would marry him, that Was the only reason: She smiled, a slow, wistful smile as he spoke to her and she heard his ardent speeches with delight. So she had been beautiful enough to lire this man’s fancy from afar, lie had seen and had followed her, had determined that if it lay in his power to win her, he would accomplish it. He had not expected it to be easy, but here she was; so the first part of his venture had turned out to be cpiite successful.

He was not a, bad sort of fellow, she thought. He had .simply been fired with her exquisite beauty, and meant to win her for his wife, if he could. Surely that only showed his good taste. Things went on -apace. Vi realised that she would be able to do anything with this man. He would bo just a puppet in her hands —clay, for her moulding. But she did not want him to think her capture was too easy, and so> she did not capitulate x too soon. When he said "you lovely creature, I shall never be content until you are my wife," Vi, to her intense horror, saw her mother! For a moment she was stricken dumb, then her natural audacity came to her aid. Ebenezer Blnns, witli a foresight Vi had not given him credit for, vanished as the little middle-aged woman grippe:! hold ot Vi':; arm ; he saw at once, from her fierce eyes and angry frown, that Vi had been caught, and guessed it was her mother. But he had made all arrangements, and Vi knew where to meet him, and though ho did not like to desert the girl, who had so fascinated him, yet he knew nothing could be dune at the moment; he had found out already that Vi was very cute, and he did not doubt but that she would wriggle out somehow. "Why. mother," said Vi, with her big, innocent eyes wide, "what are you doing here?" "I was bothered, and followed you, darling," said jNlrs Daunforth. "I saw that hateful man talk to yon, and I feared you had arranged to meet him." "Mother," said Vi. in aggrieved tones, "and I'm engaged to Blake." "I know, clear," said her mother hurriedly, "only a mother must do what she thinks right for her child. It was lovo made me come." 'A queer sort of love if it makes you distrust your only child," said Vi sulkily. If she could make her mother appear in the wrong it would be a good thing.

"Well, you see, darling, you are so young and so innocent. You know nothing of the world and its pitfalls and snares.

and you are s"o pretty that was it any wonder, when that man jumped out, as it he had a right to speak to you, i should have been Iroubh d ''"

"No, perhaps not," said Vi relenting. Inwardly she smiled at her mother. The mother who thought that she knew nothing of the world. "1 do know that man. He is a clerk at the oilice, and before Blake came on the scene I knew him. Jle loves me very much, and he asked me to go and see him to-night. Once I let him kiss me. Oil! it wasn't my fault, lie took it, but he threatened to "tell Blake, and so 1 was afraid. I had to go and see him, or Blake would have been told, and he's so jealous that .I should have never had a moment's peace after. He promised to leave me alone in future. You see he thought 1 loved him, which I never did, and then he broke out again and said he would inarrv me." Mrs Daunforth looked at her earnestly.

"My darling," she said gravely, "won't you tell Blake? A man will forgive so much in the woman he loves, but he will not forgive deceit. Blake- is so strong, such a splendid fellow in every way, that I know he will bo tender with you. Only for your own dear sake, tell him all about it."

Vi shrugged her shoulders pettishly. "Oh, dear! I don't want to. I do so hate a row," she said crossly. "My silly little girl," said her mother lovingly. "Belter a row, as you term it, now, than a quarrel when you are married. Folks may talk as they like*, but only a marriage that has no secrets will be a successful one. I know that unless you both tell everything to each other, you won't be happy. That is the advice of a woman who was as happy as possible with her husband for 15 years." Vi patted the hand that trembled on her arm.

"I know, darling; but then father was different from Blake. He wasn't in the least jealous, was he?" ''No, not when you remember him, but when we were married he was. Only 1 told him everything, and gradually for lack of fuel it died away." Vi did not speak. Her mother wondered what she was thinking about; she looked so angelic, so ethereal, that

she would not break in upon her. But had she known that Vi was only planning a set of furs, she might have been disappointed. Money ran riot in the girl's thoughts to-night. She longed for good things ardently. Good things to wear and to eat. She wanted to do the recognised things of a rich wife. She wanted to go to France, to Cowes, to Ascot. She wanted to do everything, and if/Ebenezer —she made a face over the name in her mind —wanted a wife to show up his money, to show off his purchases, he could invest in no better security than in her.

Her mother was exquisitely tender and loving when they got back. She wondered if the shadows under the beautiful eyes were caused by her advice. AVas the child troubling about it? That night when Vi was in bed she went in to fuck her up. She kissed the Hushed bewitching face, with its childish, sleepy eyes, lovingly. "Don't fret about Blake, darling, I'll tell him if you like." That thoroughly aroused Vi. She sat up, her nightgown falling away from her round young throat. Her pale hair swept about her like a cioud of silk. " Promise me, mother, you won't mention it," she said in terror, and Mrs Daunforfh, angry witli herself for upsetting the child she worshipped, soothed her tenderly. "I'll not say a word until you say I may, my sweet. But if *you are going to trouble, I shan't let Blake bo engaged to you." Long into the night Mrs Daunforth worried about Vi and her future. She was such a sensitive little thing, that if Blake were not most tender and kind, it would probably break her spirit. She must tell Blake to be careful. In the next room Vi was dreaming of her Avedding. Not one with Blake. The bridegroom held but a small place in this affair; it was Vi herself, in wonderful white satin and real lace, walking to the altar, enthroned a queen, that filled her mind, and the bridegroom—little fat Ebenezer Binns —was a cipher. CHAPTER IV.—"THE PRICE." The next fortnight went strangely contrary for both Blake and Vi. Never had Vi been more arbitrary. First, she was as wilful as it was possible for a woman to be, then when she really had hurt Blake, and he was quiet and upset, she was as sweet and affectionate as a kitten. She seemed to be excited about nothing at all. She would not listen when he said their wedding was to be soon. A little suite that ho had chosen from the last "Ideal Home Exhibition," and which that particular firm had had reproduced for him, she took absolutely no interest in. Blake could not understand her. Indeed, he wondered dismally if he had lost his head, and was seeing things through grey spectacles instead of through rosy ones. Lovely, winsome little Vi had given place to a nmre erratic, more enigmatic woman. Appointments she rarely kept nowadays, and he had made up his mind firmly, that either the work at the office was proving t< 10 much for her, or else it Avas the eternal waiting that was trying her so. He called at (he Barnes Hat one evening and saAv Mrs Daunforth. He had made an appointment with Vi, but she had not turned up. and so, despairing, he had gone down to the flat. He had a long talk with Vi's mother, and gravely she told him that she herself could not account for the change that had come over Vi lately. "She is happy in a way, but she's so excitable, bless her heart. You must expect it, ycu know, Blake. It's a great

step she is taking, and no doubt she is a little fearful." "I know," said Blake miserably. "But I love her so, and she loves me so, why should she be fearful'.' Decides, it's five months before we could marry at tho very earliest." "Still, she's .such a child," said the mother, conscious that she was making excuses for her girl. "1 don't want her hurrying, hut perhaps if you were to suggest an early marriage she might agree. Could you possibly manage it sooner?" Blake thought eagerly. Perhaps if hfl furnished on the hire system it might be done. It was a bad plan, he knew, for it made one so tight for such a long time, and he wanted every spare cent of his salary to spend on her. Still for her sake he would work harder than before. The thought made him tingle. With her safely m his care he felt nothing would matter. He would soon make her so happy that she would have no room left for being peculiar. There was the sound of a door banging, and Vi ran upstairs.

She burst open the door, and on seeing Blake her face fell, but instantly her plan was made up. "Well, I like that," she said, her face quite vexed. "There I've been waiting for you, and yet you are here." "I waited for you until half-past eight and as you didn't turn up I came on here," he said. "I felt sure something was the matter."

"You might have waited," she said pettishly. "I hate standing, for folks to wonder what sort of a girl I am." Blake was down on iiis knees kissing the little fingers adoringly. "My beloved, how can I ask your pardon'.'" he said desperately. "I love you so that I would save you any pain or discomfort. If I had known!" She looked remarkably pretty in a smart grey linen costume; with her purple feathered hat. "And to think you put on your new hat for me, and I wasn't there to admire it," he said, passionately abasing himself. Vi had not even the grace to blush. She drew out the pins and threw the hat on the sofa carelessly. "It's an old thing now," she .-aid disparagingly. "It's the first Hfine I've seen you n it," lie said softly. Vi looked up sharply as her mother came in. It would never do to let her mother hear Blake talk so. How often lately had she gone out to meet Blaice with" that hat on. Of course it had not been Blake she had gone to meet, but her mother and Blake must not find out yet. She realised that she was treading on slippery ground. The sooner things came to a head the better. Some foolish instinct had kept her from allowing Ebenezer to marry her yet, but after all she had made up her mind. Why should she hold back now? She watched her mother set supper, haling the cold beef and celery, and the coffee made from cotiee essence instead of the real thing. Lately she had had some such charming little meals with Ebenezer that ordinary food palled. Besides, she could not conjure up another appetite so soon.' "I'm not really hungry," she said listlessly. Blake looked at her anxiously. "You must eat t, little, darling. Look, I brought you a couple of peaches, you'll taste those?" Inwardly she smiled. Had they both seen the repast she had just tucked away neither would have been so concerned. However, she could always manage a peach. If she cc-uld always have luxuries she wouldn't be so anxious to marry Ebenezer. It was no good denying it, he did pall sometimes. And so, daintily eating the luscious peach, she made up her mind finally. Blake was handsome and very good to lock at. Many girls envied her the possession of such a charming man, but then she would be more envied if she married Binns, even if ho were more like a sausage than a man. Besides, she knew it well —once Blake s wife and good bye to frivolity. The theatre —pit or gallery once a week; a friend or two to afternoon tea, and then they would settle down into a staid old married couple, and then, sure enough, would come the family. With a shudder she dug her sharp white teeth into the other peach. Blake put a woollen fascinator round her shoulders, little knowing why she had shuddered.

But Vi liad made up her mind, and now that that which had caused her unrest was disposed of, she became bright and charming again, and so enchanted her lover and her mother that they forget her whimsicalities and her uncertain temper, and were her devoted admirers once again. Indeed they had never stopped being her worshippers. Blake said his farewell in the little hall down below. Only a faint light shone down on them from the landing above. His heart was on his lips as he kissed her. .''Darling," he said thrillingly, "I cant wait. I will not wait a moment longer. In a month we will be man and wife. Then you will be quite your dear old self again." lie felt the quiver that ran down her slender form, and mistook it. "You won't be afraid of me, lovely one!" he said, beseechingly. "I am your Blake, you know, and I worship you." Vi looked up into the earnest blue eyes. They were almost violet in this light, and her heart contracted with pain for a moment. What if she loved Blake more than she knew? What if she were throwing away the pearl'of great price for the husks: She had not counted on the parting being quite so poignant. The touch ot Blake's arm round her body, the light in his eyes, thrilled her uncomfortably. For,

though Blake did not know it, this wae her good-byo. She didn't mean to see lrim ever again. But she was greedy. She wanted the best in every way. She wanted Blake for his looks and for the feelings ho could conjure up in her, and she wanted Lmns money. Why, oh !—why couldn't things have been different, she thought angrily. If Blake had had monev all would have been well; but as it was, she was not eo mad as to throw away all that life held for love. Some people counted the world well lost for love, but she was not one of them. She counted love well lost for the world s pleasures. ; "To think of yon as my wife!' Blake said, and he lifted up her soft little chin and gazed into her pansy eyes. "I can't dream it will ever come to pass. Oh, little woman, I couldn't bear to lose you now. It would break all my faith if I lost you, but why do I talk so foolishly! I can't lose you—you are almost mine already. Say'you love me, sweetheart," he pleaded; "let me hear you say it with those rosy lips." He bent down to hear her whisper: "I lore you, Blake!" With a cry of pure rapture he caught her to his breast and pressed his lips to hers. When ho left her she leant against the wall, sick and trembling. After all, it was a nuisance that he could move her so strangely. Now that she had decided for the world, love became far too fascinating. She believed that if she were to wait and see more of Blake, that she would be willing to throw away all she held dear, and take him. She would cast away Binns, and with him, his money. Slowly she went upstairs and wrote a letter.

She shuddered when she stamped it and put it in the post-box. Irrevocably she had done the deed now. To-morrow with his licence in his pocket, as he had planned to do so often, if she would agree, Binns would be at the Registry Office.

And though "sh* had planned a wonderful wedding-dress, she would go in her grey costume, and the despised purple feathered hat, and then they would be made man and wife. The thought of Binns sent a shudder, long and cold, down her, but she gritted her teeth. She didn't care! She wanted the things he could give her. The next morning she awoke unrefreshed and pale. She kissed her mother with peculiar fervour, which her mother remembered after. Mrs Daunforth wondered at Vi putting on the pretty grey linen costume. It was unsuitable for office work, but then she guessed that Vi was going to choose furniture after office hours with Blake. So it was a very tender kiss Vi got m return. Then quietly, with a sensation of finality at her heart, Vi left the house. It had all been arranged before, and but for her Unwillingness to decide, it would have already been carried out. She would be Ebenczer's wife before the sun went down. Long before she was there Binns was walking up and down Piccadilly, a prey to mingled hope and fears. He was afraid she would change her mind, and the fascination she had for him, left him unable to face life calmly without her. The fact that he was stealing another man's promised wife in an underhand fashion did not trouble him in the least. He had made it his plan through life to get what he wanted. He knew that he never had wanted anything as he wanted Vi Daunforth. And so the more lie wanted her the more lie feared that she might decide against him yet. But no! There she was coming towards him, so trim and dainty in her charming grey costume. Her hat shaded the sweetest face in creation, he thought, not caring that already discontent and se'fbhness had drawn tiny lines round her mouth. "So it's to be, after all," he said, in a throaty whisper. "Yes," said Vi plaintively. It was dull enough to meet this man here. What was she linking her life with his for? " I've arranged everything, darling. Let's buy something. I want to burn money, lots of it to-day!" The vulgarity of the man did not impress her. His way of providing happiness was her way, too. She, too, wanted to spend recklessly. She wanted to finger crisp bank notes, Bee the glitter of much gold, and spend it all—all. i He had not dared to buy her a ring yet, but now she was almost his wife. "Jewels first, my love," he said, and he could not help a swaggering note from creeping into his voice. Delightedly, quite forgetting that she had ever felt a feeling of distaste towards him, Vi took his arm. They stopped in front of a gorgeous jeweller's, and gazed at the shop window. ''Diamonds, my love," he said, and Vi gave a little scream of delight. She was inside the shop, and her eyes were feasting greedily on trays upon'trays of lovely jewels. Everything the heart of woman could wish for Avas there—rings, tiaras, bracelets, jewelled watches. A ,.c spared nothing for her. He ordered recklessly, delighting, as her eyes shone. Then at last, laden with their precious packages, which Ebenezer would not trust to a man, they went into the bustle and hurry of the street. Vi drew a long ecstatic breath. "You are good to me, Ben," she said. "I'm always going to call you Ben in future, to pay you for your "goodness to mo!" "It's because you are going to bo my wife," the man said grandiosely. They had reached the door of the Registrv Office. How different it was from what she had Imagined! It was her wedding day! Why, if she had married Blake there would have been more show and display ! Still, though sho lacked it now, it would all como later. After all, the first

part was in those packages that bulged Ben's pockets. Almost before she was aware of it she was a married woman. She had signed her maiden name for the last time. She was Violet Daunforth no longer now, she was Violet Binns, the wife of the sausage man. She felt no different, only she half wished after all, in spite of wealth, that she was Violet Keston. If she had just married Blake he would have taken her in his arms and she would have felt those odd little thrills that had coursed down her for the first time last night. She looked at Ben. He was gloating over her as though she were a jewel he had bought with his money, and indeed he had bought her. Just as he bought flowers and jewels with money, so he had bought her. And men didn't buy things for the fun of the thing, as women did. They expected full value. A Jump rose in her throat. Ben had never kissed her. What if he meant to now? There was no doubt about it, he did mean to. He crept to her and pulled her face down and his lips—however could they be so odiom;—pressed against the soft pinkness of her mouth. And then she knew that love had come too late. She loved Blake now, but it was too late! She had sold her soul for gold, and she would h'ave to pay the price, to the uttermost farthing! (To be Continued.)