Seventy Times Seven,

Southern Cross, Volume 7, Issue 48, 24 February 1900, Page 13

Seventy Times Seven ,

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

By ADELINE SERGEANT, Author of “The Story of a Penitent Soul,” “ Jacobi’s Wife,” “ Rodger Yanbrough’s Wife,” The Great Mill Street Mystery,” “ A Life Sentence.” “ Dr Endicott’s Experiment,” “ A Rogue’s Daughter,’’“The Luck of the House,” “Casper Brooke’s Daughter,” “ No Ambition,” &c., &c.

(0 0 P Y B I G H T.)

CHAPTER XV. Cecil’s explanation. Lenore went back to her duties at the stall, although the bright lights and colours swam in a confused mist before her eyes, and the strains of the military band sounded a long way off. She did not know that her face was pale, or that there was a look of pain in her soft eyes ; but Cecil Brendon, although keeping well aloof, was remorsefully aware of her changed expression. Ruby Roslyn had at length gone home ; and when she was out of sight he ventured to draw nearer to Lenore, before she knew that he was beside her, he had whispered a word in her ear; ‘ Lenore ! let me explain ’ She started and looked up. Then she moved away from him, and began quietly to rearrange the articles for sale upon her stall. Not a word could she utter; but the action was significant enough. Cecil did not try to speak again, but with a vexed, miserable face, hovered round her while she steadily attended to her goods and her customers. The he quietly went and fetched a cup of tea, of which she felt in great need, for she was faint with w-eariness of body and mind.

1 Ho, thanks-’ ‘You must; you are killing yourself.’ She made a gesture as if she would have said, ‘ What does that matter ?’ and motioned away the cup. He put it down on the table, and retired to a little distance, hoping to see her take it. She did take it up —at last! —but only to convey it to Miss Mann, who drank every drop lingeringly and appreciatively. Cecil watched, and hated Miss Mann from the bottom of his heart. He hated his brother almost more, for the time being, when he saiv Max enter the hall, and immediately make his way up to Lenore. ‘ You look very tired ; shall I get you some tea P’ was his first question. Lenore said, ‘ Yes, please,’ with a sense of relief, and drank the tea thirstily. When Max took away the cup Cecil could not refrain from draWing near to murmur,

‘ So you refused because you would not take anything from me ! ’ 4 Miss Mann was very tired,’ was Lenore’s response.

4 You can pity every one but me.’ * You do not need pity.’

4 Do I not F Look at me.’

The egoism of his utterance was less apparent to Lenore than the trouble in his voice. Yet she did hot answer: she was resolved to stand firm against his pleading, but a mist swam before her eyes.

‘ Please don’t talk to me. I must help Miss Mann.’ ‘ I must talk to you. I must explain. I can’t let you think as you do of me.’ * This is no time or place for explaining.’ 4 lt is the time —I will find a place. The ante-room where the players go for refreshments is quite deserted. Let me have five minutes only. Lenore, you are cruel —cruel; and I am the most miserable man on earth.’

The lone tones of impassioned pleading were not lost upon her. She hesitated, faltered, ‘ Five minutes only,’ and found her hand placed within lus arm, as he led her instantly away from the stall through the crowded room to a spot in which he thought they could speak together in peace. It was a small room, dimly lighted, and separated from the Town Hall itself by a passage and another apartment. There was

very little danger of interruption, so long at least as the musicians were still playing.

Lenore sank down in the chair that

Cecil dragged out from the wall for her; and he, bending over her, saw how pale she looked. ‘ You are tired—thoroughly exhausted,’ he said. ‘ Won’t you let me fetch you a glass of wine F’ ‘ I never drink wine, thauk you,’ she answered, with a great effort to keep her voice steady enough for even those trivial words.

‘ It isn’t that you never drink wine ; it is that you will not let me do anything for you I have offended you, but haven’t you punished me already ? Will you never believe in me again, Lenore, my darling P’ He saw that she shuddered slightly and turned away from him. c Don’t ; you hurt me,’ she said, with an accent as of physical pain, Cecil was on his knees beside her next moment.

‘ Hurt you, my darling, hurt you P What have I done ?’ and he wound

his arm round her, for the shiver that again ran through her frame, and the whiteness of her lips, made

him fear that she was about to faint. But at his touch she recovered herself.

‘I am tired, as you say,’ she answered, looking him full in the face, in spite of the weakness that still threatened to overcome her. 1 I have had too much to do, and—please take away your arm, Cecil ; it has no business there. Had you not better get up P’ ‘Hot till you tell me how I have hurt you.’ ‘ You will force me to leave you, Cecil.’ ‘ Ho, no ; I will force you to stay, my darling,’ and before she could prevent him he had seized both her hands, and was covering them with kisses.

4 Cecil !’ she said, and then stopped, and almost wept with shame and anger. 4 How dare you ? How can you ? Oh, you hurt me by this more than by anything else !’ and her tears fell fast and unrestrainedly. Cecil released her hands as suddenly as he had grasped them. 4 Hurt you by showing that I love you ?’ he asked, slowly. ‘ How can that be F It might have hurt you if—if you had loved me as I love you, but that, you know, you do not do. Thank God for it ! If yon had loved me, we should indeed be miserable now.’ Lenore buried her face in her hands. Cecil rose, walked to the mantlepiece, then turned and looked at her irresolutely. ‘You know,’he went on, ‘that I have always loved you. Always, Lenore ; I swear it. But I thought that you did not care for me. Could you not have helped me a little? Lenore, Lenore, did yon not know that I loved you ?’ 4 Indeed,’ Lenore replied, like another Ophelia, 4 indeed, Cecil, you made me believe so.’

4 And I did love you ; I love you now,’ he cried, but he held himself back, as if afraid to touch her or to speak too fervently, while a strangely despairing look came into his eyes. 4 And I was not mistaken ; you love me too ?’

4 Tes,’ she answered, lifting her face from her hands and meeting his gaze with complete abandonment of her former reserve, 4 1 love you with all my heart.’ Cecil turned to the mantlepiece and rested his arms and head upon it. His

face was hidden ; but every now and then his whole frame was agitated by a long heavy breath, almost like a sob. ‘ What a blind fool I have been !’ he said at last. 4 I love you, Lenore, I love you better than all the world beside, and yet —what can I do P I have promised to marry Hu by Roslyn.’

For a few moments Lenore was silent. Cecil dared not look up ;he waited for her to speak, half expecting an outburst of strong emotion. But her first words were curiously calm, and spoken in a low, quiet tone.

4 Why did you make me love you at all,’ she said, 4 if you could not be true to me ?’

4 You can’t reproach me more bitterly than I reproach, myself,’ said Cecil’s stifled voice.

4 1 did not mean to reproach you. I have no right to complain.’ 4 Your very tones and looks are a reproach to me. Do I not see that I have-given you pain P And we might have been so happy ! Well, perhaps it is better for you ; you will meet somebody worthier than I am ; but if I had known that you loved me —’ 4 Was it my fault, Cecil, that you did not know ?’

‘ No. it was my own ; the worse misery tor me ! What a fool I have been!’ ‘But since it has turned out in this way,’ continued Lenore’s low, soft tones, in which Cecil could hardly distinguish the carefully smothered ring of pain, ‘it will be better to speak of it no more, Why could you not let the matter rest P Why make me acknowledge that I love you P For I do love you, Cecil, dear; I love you with all my heart ’ and here her calmness gave way. ‘ I shall never love any one else ; but you did wrong in making me tell you of it, and we must forget it; we shall get over it—in time.’ And there she broke down altogether, and could say no more.

‘ I can’t bear it,’ said Cecil, striking his foot angrily on the floor. £ ls any man compelled to break the heart of the woman that he loves P Lenore, I can’t bear your tears; they make a coward of me ; ’ and he came and stood beside her, his own eyes unconsciously filling with bitter drops. * You shall be my wife in spite of all. It would be a sin for me to marry another woman when I can love none but you.’ Lenore caught her breath, and made a desperate effort at self-control. ‘ You must not talk in that way,’ she gasped. ‘ And why must I not, my own darling? We love each other. I have made a mistake—true ; must that mistake spoil our lives for ever ?’ ‘ Doing right never spoilt anyone’s life, Cecil.’ ‘ Doing right is loving you, my sweet. Ah, you forget; I loved you first. I only strayed from you to her by chance, as it were, and for a time ; she has no claim upon me.’ ‘ She can claim your promise. You made none to me.’

‘ Bat you can claim my heart.’ And Cecil put his arms round her, and pressed his lips to her forehead. She tried to thrust him away from her, but she did not succeed.

4 Would you have me lie to her, and say I love her ? God knows I have told lies enough ! You would not ruin me for this life and the next p I shall be a ruined man the day I marly Ruby Roslyn.’

And Lenore so far believed this to be true that she could make little answer.

4 Say only that you forgive me for any suffering I may have caused you, and that you love me still; then I shall have strength to live my life out and make a better thing of it; but say that you despise and hate me — then what does it matter what becomes of me ? The sooner I marry Ruby, or blow my brains out, the better! I shall despair of God and man !’

4 Hush, Cecil!' Lenore’s composure came back as his decreased. 4 You do not speak in the way to make me love you—only I love you already;

but, come what may, you must do right.’

‘ Must do right ? Does that mean that I must marry a woman whom I —-despise ?’ Lenore drew herself away, and looked at him steadily. ‘lt means,’ she said, ‘ that you must not treat Miss Roslyn —as you have treated me.’

Cecil was silent, the hot colour flooding' his face. ‘ 1 do not mean to reproach, you,’ said Lenore, steadily, ‘ but you must think of what you did. You made me believe in your love; you drew me on to love you ; then you left me without a word; and though it may be wrong to say so now, Cecil, you know that I did suffer. I thought that my heart would break. It has not broken ; and yet —and yet —I will not lei woman suffer for me as 1 have suffered. How could I rejoice if I knew that she was mourning because I had won her lover away from her P Ho. Cecil; you have given that pain to one woman already; she has conquered it; Ido not feel it so keenly now ; and you shall give it to no one else with my consent.’ ‘ What can you mean, Lenore ?’ asked Cecil, slowly. ‘That you shall not break off your engagement to Miss Roslyn for my . sake.’ ‘I will not marry Ruby Roslyn.’ * And I will not marry you.’ 4 Lenore, Lenore, how can you torture me in this way ! Is it for punishment ?’ 1 I don’t want to punish you, Cecil.’ ‘ But-you do not love me !’ 4 Don’t I?’ And she put her hands before her face. In a moment Cecil was kneeling before her, pulling away her fingers and covering them with kisses, even with tears. For a little time she could do nothing to check his ardour; but at last she recovered her selfpossession, and spoke firmly. ‘ This is enough,’ she said, drawing away her hands and lising from her chair. ‘ I have seen you for the last time. There must be an end of it now. Say good-bye, Cecil, and let

me go.’ ‘I will not let you go unless you say that you forgive me.’ ‘ I do forgive you.’ ‘ Then I will never give you up.* She froze him by a look. * You will nob forget, henceforth,’ she said, ‘ that Miss Roslyn is your promised wife.’

He turned away half sullenly and let her pass ; but when she neared the door, she glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing listlessly, dejectedly, with drooping head and sombre, melancholy eyes. Her woman’s nature could not bear the sight. She went back to him and laid her hand upon his arm ‘ Dear Cecil,’ she said, ‘ forgive me if I have hurt you, too. Oh, my darling, goodbye!’

He tried to draw her to him, but she eluded his grasp, and fled out of the room. She was not a moment too soon. The musicians came flocking in. * God save the Queen ’ had just been played, and the bazaar was about to close for the night. It was after ten o’clock? Utterly forgetful of home and visitors, Cecil strode out into the gas-lit streets, conscious of a savage satisfaction in the fact that a drizzling raia had begun to fall, and that in a few minutes he was drenched to the very skin.

The Larpingtons, who were staying at Mrs Brendon’s house, were much disappointed to find that Cecil did not appear that evening. Nobody but Mr Brendou and Max had had time for dinner that day, so a supper had been prepared for the bazaarworkers, and a very merry party gathered together in the dining-room. It was just such an occasion as Cecil loved, and everyone was astonished and some very uneasy, when midnight came and he bad not yet returned to the house. Max's conviction was that he had gone home with the Roslyns, but he kept that conviction to himself. It was nearly one o’clock when the company dispersed. Max was finally left to let

the last visitor out at the front' door, and to lock up afterwards. Feeling vaguely uneasy about his brother, he remained for a few minutes on the doorstep, wondering wbat had become of him, and whether anything had gone wrong with his affairs. He had not liked the look of desperation that he had seen once or twice lately on Cecil’s face. Ater a little meditation on the subject, he took a few steps down the garden walk to find out whether it was still raining, and to cool himself after playing a game in the hot, gas-lighted billiard-room. He almost stumbled over a dark figure leaning against the railing, a couple of yards away from the gate. ‘ Hulloi’ he said, rather sharply. Then in a quieter tone, ‘ Oh ! I see. Where have you been ?* ‘ What’s that to you P ’ growled Cecil, raising himself into an ®erect posture. * Oh, nothing. Didn’t anticipate the pleasure of meeting you here ; that was all.’

Cecil.a answer was an ejaculation of a kind so rare from him that Max said immediately, ‘ There’s something wrong ?’ ‘ Can’t you see that there is ?’

‘ 1 see that there soon will be, if you don’t look oat. Wby, man, you’re wet through. There’s a fire in the library; you had better come in and have something hot, or you’ll be laid up.’ Cecil submitted, and followed his brother through the glass door of the billiard room into the library, where a fire still burned brightly. Pale, wet, jaded, Cecil dropped into a chair, and cowered over the embers with a shiver.

‘ Get off your boots,’ said Max, prosaically. ‘ And your other things, too ; I’ll bring you your dressinggown. You must be daft to stay out in this wet weather.’

And, relieving his feelings with this north-country expression, he heaped some logs on the fire, and went upstairs; whence he returned with Cecil’s dressing-gown and slippers. ‘ You’ll be rheumatic to-morrow if you keep on these clothes,’ he said, observing that his brother had not stirred.

Cecil sighed, looked up, and began to unlace his boots; seeing which sign of life, Max went to hunt for the brandy bottle, hot water, and a tumbler. It took him some minutes to find these articles, and when he re-entered the library he was pleased to see that Cecil had divested himself of most of his wet clothing, and had wrapped the dressing-gown round him. The brandy stopped his shivering, and made his lips less blue ; it would have been better if he could eat, but he declined everything with an impatient shake of the head. * You’d better go off to bed when you’re warm,’ said Max, stirring the fire with the tip of his boot. He would never have taken any precau* tions for himself; but Cecil’s throat and chest were known to be delicate, and Max did not like his look.

‘ I shall not sleep if I go,’ Cecil said at last.

; Nonsense ! You’ll sleep well enough. I hope there is nothing seriously amiss ?’ he asked, more gravely. ‘ Indeed there is.’ Cecil’s sigh was almost a groan. ‘ What’s wrong ?’ ‘ Cecil was silent for a little while. * I don’t know that I can do better than tell you,’ he said, rousing himself, but carefully averting his face. ‘ I’m in an awful mess, and don’t know how to get out of it. Perhaps you can help me.’ 1 Perhaps so. Go ahead, old fellow.’ CHAPTER XVI. MR JIRENDON INTERFERES. ‘ It’s not a pleasant position,’ said Cecil, bending over the fire again as if he were cold, ‘ to be engaged to one girl and in love with another.’ He felt it rather a relief to disburden his mind of his troubles, even to his unsentimental younger brother. ‘ Is that your case ?’ asked Max. * Exactly.’

Max shrugged hia shoulders, and reflected that Cecil must be in a bad way if he could hear to make such a confession. Nothing would have wrung from him so humiliating an admission of weakness. But perhaps Max hardly made sufficient allowance for the difference in temperament between himself and Cecil.

‘ Yon have promised to marry one of these Larpington girls, I suppose ?’ ‘ Larpington girls ! Rather not.’ ‘ Who then ?’ ‘ Ruby Roslyn,’ mumbled Cecil, unwillingly. Max did not speak for a minute. He turned and looked at his brother with keen, incredulous eyes and lifted brows ; then, walking to the t'able, ostensibly to mix a second tumbler of brandy and water, but really to conceal the expression of his face, he said, curtly, ‘ I wish you joy.’ ‘lt would never have happened,’ said Cecil, as if excusing his choice, ‘ but for an idiotic mistake on my part. I never thought that she cared for me —or that I cared for her so much —’ ‘And who is the ‘she’ ?’ asked Max, deliberately dropping a lump of sugar into the tumbler, and holding it up to the light. ‘ She ? You might know : Lenore Cbaloner.’ Crash !—the tumbler had somehow slipped from Max’s hand, and the hot liquid was running over the carpet. ‘ Confound it! Why can’t you remember that a fellow has nerves ?’ cried Cecil, angrily. ‘ Beg pardon, I forgot your delicate organisation,’ retorted Max, stooping down to pick np the broken glass. Cecil lay back in his chair, and watched the collection of the fragments, and the mopping up of the fragrant stream —chiefly by means of handkerchiefs.

‘ I don’t often do a thing like that,’ Max said, rising with rather a pale face, as if the breakage had affected his nerves too, ‘ but there’s plenty more hot water, and I'll get another tumbler,’ and off he went to the pantry. ‘ How did you find out that she ‘ cared,’ as you express it ?’ he said, on his return.

‘Oh !' Cecil looked confused, ‘it came out: I asked her, for one thing— ’

‘ You asked her!’ There were volumes of reproach in Max’s stern tones.

‘ I ought not to have done it, I know ; but I had no idea that she— W hat’s the good of talking about it P I’ve half-broken her heart, and the sooner I go to the devil the better.’

‘ I don’t see that that would mend matters,’ said Max, slowly, while Cecil covered his face with his hands and groaned by way of answer, ‘ It’s a great pity. In any case, you won’t please everybody. Mother does not like Lenore, and I don’t believe that the Governor will consent to your marrying Miss Roslyn.’ ‘ All the better.’

‘ The fact is that you want him to break it off, and then to profit by his decision, while the odium falls on him, and not on you; that’s it, I suppose P’ Cecil winced, but did not reply. ‘Well,’ said Max, after a pause, ‘ one thing is clear. You can’t marry without his consent, for you have nothing to live upon ; and he will never give his consent to your marrying Ruby Roslyn. You had better make a clean breast of it to him, and perhaps he will see some way of helping you out of the scrape, I believe that he would like you to marry Lenore.’ ‘ She says that the engagement must not be broken off,’said Cecil, abruptly, with his head still between his hands.

‘ Lenore says so ? Ah, yes, that she would be sure to say.’ A wistful, almost a tender look came into Max’s eyes as he proceeded. * She is a good, brave woman, candid, generous, worthy of trust and honour ; you don’t deserve her, and you know it. It’s no good mincing the matter.’ ‘ I know it well enough ; but she’s m\ r only chance,’ muttered Cecil. ‘ What will became of me if I marry

that —that other one ?’ ‘ Ah, that’s your only cry,’ said Max, a little bitterly. ‘ ‘ What will become of me ! ’ Never a thought of what will become of them ; and you’ve behaved shamefully to them both.’ ‘lf that’s all the comfort you have to give me ’

* Hang it, man, don’t take offence. You will have to swallow a good many hard words, I fancy, before things are put straight again. At the same time you need not give up hope. The governor will probably take the matter entirely out of your hands ; so much the better for you. Only, if he does settle it, don’t change your mind again. He would not forgive a second scrape of this kind, you know. Now you must go to bed, and so must I, for lam due at the works at six.’

When Cecil’s aching head was laid on the pillow, Max brought him another hot draught, which he hoped would avert any dangerous consequences of bis imprudence, and as he drank it the younger brother tranquilly observed ; ‘ You need not bother yom head about a formal confession of your misdeeds. I'll mention them casually to the Governor to-morrow, if you like, and then you will have nothing to do but look penitent and submissive,’

Cecil pat out his hand impulsively. 4 What a good fellow you are, Max !’. ‘ (rood night,’ said Max, squeezing the slender white fingers extended to him, and speaking half in earnest, half in joke ; ‘ don’t fall in love with a third party, while we settle which of the first two you are to marry.’ But Cecil could not laugi: he turned to the wall and drew the sheet over his face with a sound suspiciously like a sob. Max did not go to his room. He crept softly down to the library, and stood for a long time gazing into the fire with bent brows and a somwbat pale look about his mouth. At last he shook back his head and shoulders as though to rid himself of some unpleasant thoughts, walked to the bookcase and took out a volume —it was a stiff geometrical treatise—to which he applied himself with a sort of dogged earnestness until be found his eyelids growing heavy. Then he had two hours’ sleep and a bath, and went down to his chemical works looking—to use one of Kingsley’s expressions— ‘ as fresh as a rose and •as dour as a door nail.’ Cecil put in no appearance at breakfast time, but his absence was too common an event to be noticed until his brother had paid a visit to bis room and said to Mrs Brendou, 4 Cecil’s not well ; would yen mind going to see him ?’ Mrs Brendon hurried away, and found that Cecil had caught a severe feverish cold. Her presence was greatly needed at the Town Hall, and she had the Larpingtons on her hands ; but, in spite of all her engagements, she was half-disposed to stay at home and nurse him ; however, the doctor laughed her fears to acorn, and said that he would be better in a day or two, and she contented herself with" giving Gertrude strict orders to take care of him, and to send for her if he grew worse.

When Max went into his brother’s room in the evening, Cecil turned his flushed face and languid eyes anxiously towards him, and asked a question in his hoarse voice; * Have you told him yet ?’ * Not yet; I have had no chance of seeing him alone.’ ‘ You’ll do it to-night ?’

‘lf I can. It’s no good precipitating matters. ‘ Now you’re not to talk, you know.’ ‘ I want him to hear about it.’ ‘Yes, yes; he’ll hear quite soon enough.’ ‘ Soon enough for him, I dare say and Cecil groaned and coughed, evidently taking it as a reproach. ‘ Have you heard or seen anything of Lenore ?’ he said, when the coughing fit was over. ‘ I called this afternoon thinking you would like to know how she was. Now, if you open your lips to speak, you shall not hear a word about her.’ Cecil looked up with longing pathetic

eyes, but said nothing. * She had been at the bazaar, but confessed to feeling tired—and looked it. She didn’t say half-a-dozen words, and I did not stop fire minutes.’ ‘ She did not mention me ?’ ‘ No. For goodness sake hold your tongue.’ Cecil could not forbear a smile at Max’s peremptoriness, but his face soon regained its harassed expression, and though he lay still there was no ease in his posture. From these signs, as well as from his previous words, Max decided silently that the best thing he could do would be to speak to Mr Brendon as soon as possible. It was not an easy task to do this, for he and his father were both unusually busy ; but the absence of Mrs Brendon and her daughters gave him the opportunity that he lacked. He arranged his work so as to have a quiet half-hour with his father in the evening after dinner ; and Mr Brendon led up to the subject by saying that ‘ Cecil seemed quite knocked up.’ ‘ No wonder,’ said Max, going to the point at once ; ‘ worry always upsets Cecil.’ ‘Worry? What’s the matter with him now ?’

‘ Would yon like a daughter-in-law-father ?’ ‘ Eh ?—Oho I ’ Max could not but laugh at these two very significant interjections, as he went on peeling a walnut, and waited for a more definite answer. ‘ I should like both of you to marry,’ said Mr Brendon, presently. ‘ You have waited quite long enough, I consider. Is Cecil worrying himself about my consent F’ ‘ Well—in one sense, yes.’ ‘ Why doesn’t he come to me for it, then ?’ ‘ He is afraid the story might be a disagreeable one to you,’ said Max, warily. ‘ You mean that it is not a creditable one to him,’ Mr Brendon responded, with some sharpness. ‘I fear I am making a bad advocate,’ said Max, without looking up, ‘so I had better come to the point at once. Should you object to his marrying Miss Roslyn ?’

Mr Brendon rose from his chair. ‘ I cannot conceive how you can ask me the question. I object decidedly ;to herself, her antecedents, her education, and everything belodging to her. Cecil marry John Rostyn’s daughter! Not while I can prevent it.’ And in a white heat of.passion, Mr Brendon. walked up and down the room, utter* ing threats against Cecil, and bitter denunciations of Roslyn’s dishonesty. * I tell you, Max, the man’s a rogue and a swindler ; he’ll be in prison one of these days. ‘ No; if my son marries a Roslyn, not one penny of mine shall he ever touch.’

Max waited for a pause, and struck in coolly. 4 That determination of yours will help Cecil out of his difficulties,’ he said, in a slightly satirical tone; 4 since be has not the faintest wish to marry Miss Roslyn —• so far at least as I know,’ Mr Brendon stared. 4 Then what did you ask me that question for P Is it you who wants to marry her ?’ 4 No, thank heaven ! But Cecil has had the misfortune to entangle himself in a sort of engagement with her, while at the same time he is in love with‘somebody else.’ Mr Brendon sat down, and looked as if he could scarcely give credit to so extraordinary a statement. His disgust found vent in a slow but emphatic exclamation 4 What a fool that fellow is !’ Max thought it best to eat his walnuts in silence for a few minutes, and after some reflection, his father said sharply : 4 Well, he’s got himself into the mess, let him get himself out as he can. Of course, I should never sanction the engagement, but I do not see why I should be made a cat’s paw of, because he wants to marry somebody else. It’s a disagreeable business.’ ‘So it is,’ said Max, deliberately ; but 1 think that somebody ought to save him from.ruining himself for life. I don’t believe he has the strength of will to break the engage-

xnent off, and some fine day we shall hear that Ruby Roslyn has eloped with him.’ A pause. ‘Unless we marry him out of to the girl he wants to marry.’ ‘ Who is the girl ?’ ‘ Lenore Chaloner.’ ‘ That alters the case.’ ‘ Wot logically,’ said Max, thinking his father would be the better for a little contradiction. Logic has nothing to do with it.’ ‘ So it seems.’ ‘ Come, now, don’t you be impudent to your father, young fellow,’ said Mr Brendon, whose brow had cleared wonderfully during the last few minutes. ‘ I should like to hear when Cecil told you this fine story.’ ‘ Late last night. He had a sort of explanation with Lenore—a silly thing to do, it seems to me —and found out that she liked him—and was very tragic over it, you know. There has been a nasty complication ; first, he made love to Lenore, then to Ruby, and now ’ ‘ And now to both of them at once. It appears to me,’ said Mr Brendon, ‘ that he has acted very dishonourably in the matter.’ ‘He has been weak, not wilfully wicked. A good wife would be the saving of him.’

‘ Perhaps. I don’t know. I think Lenore Chaloneris too good for him.

‘We shall have to be careful about Lenore’s feelings. She says that Cecil must fulfil his engagement to Ruby; and unless you break it off, father, not Cecil, I don’t believe she will have anything to do with him.’ ‘ She is a good girl,’ said Mr Brendon, thoughtfully. ‘ I should like Cecil to marry her, though I don’t suppose his mother will approve. I must think over the matter. Cecil knows that yon are telling me, I conclude P’

‘ He was very anxious that I should do so. He was going to tell you himself ; but I offered to talk it over with you first, because I—thought— ’ ‘ Thought what ?’ Max temporised. ‘ Well, sir, Cecil’s a trifle afraid of you when you are angry. Don’t you know how difficult it is to him to tell you anything that he thinks you will not like ?’ ‘He should not do things I don’t like, then. Well, well, perhaps it was better that I had not got him here to blow up, for the idea of his marrying that girl made me very angry. In fact, I am very angry now.’

‘ Draw it mild with him, won’t you sir ?’ said Max, a trifle more eagerly than usual. ‘He is really suffering for his imprudence.’ ‘ I don’t call it imprudence,’ observed the father; ‘ I call it dishonourable folly, meanness —and I intend to tell him so. Stuff, Max ; leave him to me. He does not deserve Lenore if lie can’t see that he has treated her badly.’ ‘ He does see that.’

‘ All right; I hope he does. Hay, if he gets me to do what he wants, he must take a bit of my mind as well.’ And Max was obliged to be content 3 although he would fain have had

a fuller assurance that his father was not going to be hard on Cecil. The following day was a particularly busy one, and he had time only to snatch his meals at borne, and could not exchange two words with his brother until evening. About six he looked into Cecil’s room, and found his father standing by the fire. He would have retired, but Mr Brendon called out to him to come in. Cecil was lying back on his pillows, the feverish crimson of his cheeks and the brilliance of his dark eyes making him look hardly fit for any fresh excitement. He had always been subject to those attacks of severe cold and low fever, and the present illness was unusually prostrating. ‘ Yes,’ Mr Brendon was saying as Max came in, ‘ I can’t say that I think your conduct has been honourable, or even creditable.’ Cecil tried to speak, but his voice was nearly gone, and he could only look half-appealingly at Max, who said gruffly, ‘ Cecil ought not to talk, even to say so.’

‘ I don’t want him to talk,’ said Mr Brendon. ‘ I have only required him so far to listen to me. I have been telling him that I shall not consent to his engagement with Miss Roslyn, and I have already been down to her father and said so. That matter is virtually at an end. Miss Roslyn is to send back your ring and other fine presents to-morrow. After this folly, Cecil, the sooner you make a sensible marriage the better. That is all I wish to say just now. The sooner you get well the sooner we can put these affairs into right order.’ Cecil managed to croak out the observation that he was sorry that he had not pleased his father. ‘ Sorry ? I daresay. People are generally sorry afterwards when they have made fools of themselves,’ was Mr • Brendon’s grim reply. ‘ However, least said soonest mended. I do not want to reproach you either for your conduct to Miss Roslyn or to Miss Chaloner, but to get you out of your present embarrassing position. When you assume the duties of a married man, I hope you will learn more wisdom than you appear to possess at present. That’s enough of the subject.—Your cold doesn’t seem much better.’

‘ He’s feverish,’ said Max, ‘ and wants to be kept quiet.’ 4 And who prevents his being quiet P You mean me, I presume,’ said his father, between anger and amusement, ‘ Well, all I can do is to let him alone, then. Good-night, Cecil,’ and he went up to the bed and took his son’s hot band, not unmindful of the tears that sprang, chiefly from bodily weakness, to Cecil’s eyes as be did so. 4 Don’t agitate your mind over this business ; I’ll see you well out of it. And you may give some credit to your brother there. But for him, I should never have moved hand or foot in the matter, I can tell you. I hope you’ll have a better night. Cecil could do little talking, bat he was right in telling himself, if he

could tell nobody else, that father and brother treated him more leniently than he deserved. He was relieved to find that Mr Brendon would not sanction the engagement, and yet was secretly ashamed of himself when he acknowledged that his father’s commands would have had little weiglit with him had he wished to keep faith with Ruby. His presents to Miss Roslyn came back to him next morning without a word of expostulation or farewell. (To be continued.)