THE LOVE THIEF

Sun (Christchurch), Volume II, Issue 457, 28 July 1915, Page 2

THE LOVE THIEF

[Copyright.]

CHAPTER XL— (Continued.) THE JUDAS KISS. "Miss Waterson! " She bounded up, and faced round on him. Her face Avas like the face of a ghost, and there were dark circles round her eyes. But she had ceased to cry. After' a limit tears will not flow. Her dimmed eyes had a kind of fear in them. "Oh, it is you. 1 was afraidafraid '' She got no farther. Her voice died out in a little quiver, and he saAv the convulsive movement of her throat that tried to sAvalloAV doAvh emotion. He stooped over her, his face showing only the deepest distress, the most acute sympathy. -"What's wrong? You're ill, surely!" he exclaimed. "Let me call ' someone.'' But she put. out. a hasty hand to stop him. , ~ , . "No- no, indeed. Please don t let anyone knoAV. It isn't that. I'll be all right pvesently." '.She tried to struggle to her feet. Her trembling might have given him the excuse he did not wait for. He passed his sirni round her, passed it exultingly. rejoicinglv. Ah, she couldn't drive him "oft" now'. His arm lingered, even when she was on the bench and he should have Avithdrawn it. In her confusion and misery she took no notice of it. It, might have been the assistance of one j of the footmen she was receiving. j "Then v6n are uiihappy—very unLfinpy ' What is it? For Heaven's miko tell me! , You frighten me." With that, hc.ma.de a feint to move i the paper further, that he too might sit down. He picked it up, and his start, was a really good bit of acting, '"Good heavens!" he said abruptly. . She turned quickly, and saw Avhere his eyes rested. Her head sank again on her breast in a wretchedness too dumb for utterance. "This" isn't the man! it can't be — > impossible! " Then, as she bnly nodded weakly, he burst forth into what anyone might have, taken for honest fury. "The hound —the cad —the outsider! To marry another woman, and never to let, you know! To Jjreak his engagement to you! " "We weren't engaged —not really. It was only that avc had promised to Avait ' for each other." . Her voice was so shaky and so inarticulate that he had to bend near to hear, it. He tightened the arm that still held her. "You poor little soul! You, of all people —the fool, the ass, the villain! He ought to be horsewhipped round the streets and placarded a coward!"

===== By LILLIAS CAMPBELL DAVIDSON ====== AUTHOR OF "THE MARRIAGE TRAP,'' ETC.

"Oil, no! Oh, no!" She shrank at his vehemence. " Lt Avasn't a real engagement, you see. Ho changed his mind. That's why he didn't Avrite. I can see it all now. lie said she was such a nice girl, and he's been living in their house. It's such a long way away —Canada." All her pitiful efforts to find excuse seemed only like fool's talk to Rey- , nolds. "What's all that, if he could take up Avith another woman once he knew you?" he asked, almost roughly. "Men—men are different from us! They forget so soon. We remember!" He almost .snorted with his effort to simulate straightforward indignation. "Don't lump the lot of us with a j skunk like that!" he exclaimed, virtuously. "You're right! Some fellows fall in love with any girl, as long as they happen to be Avith her. But Ave're not. all in the same box with him. I loathe that kind of traitor!" "I—l thought he was one of those who'd loathe it, too," she said, sorrowfully. "Oh, I've been afraid for ever and ever so long." j. It was strange indeed to be telling [him, but her very soul ached for symi pathy and comfort and someone to conI fide in. lie was so kind, so like a I brother, that she actually forgot for thei j moment that, he had Avantcd to be something nearer. Her grief possessed j her whole soul, and left her no room for I other recollections. She had not yet become aware that his arm was round her still. He grimly .appreciated that. "You'thought he might do it?" j "Oh, how could I think it? It seemed) impossible. But this girl—he -ayrote about her—l understand how it came about." Again-her misery filled her. "He might have had the decency at least to Avrite and end it with you," he said. "T—yes—Ave.ll—l began to know, somehow, A\-hen he stopped writing. Biit I didn't think he would just send a marked paper! " i She gazed from him with blank eyes| across the valley beneath, to the blue misty hills in the distance. One of her hands lay listless in her lap. Could he venture to grasp it? His oavu fingers were sloayla-, stealthily creeping towards it. "He's a skunk!" he exclaimed, in a tone of disgust. "You're avoll rid of him. A hound that could act like that would have made you miserable. It's a hard life" —Avith sudden bitterness—"when honest men who Jove a woman to distraction haA-en't a* chance against cads that can kiss and ride away, like this one!" • Something in his voice brought her back to recollection. She moved and became suddenly conscious of the curious softness of the back of the seat against which she leaned. She glanced down, startled. When she found that she A\ y as resting tranquilly with his arm

I about her, that he leaned so close that. [their breaths almost mingled, she recoiled Avitli a start —a murmur of embarrassment. "Oh, I beg your pardon! I didn't realise. Please don't. Please go now. You've been so kind, but, indeed, indeed I'll be all right soon." But he did not drop his arm. "Please let me!" he pleaded. "Think I'm only your big brother, avlio's so sorry for you. You knoAV I never had a little sister. me, all men aren't like that brute. Don 't send me aAvay from you. Let me do Avhat I can for you." It seemed unkind to repulse him. In all the Avhole Avide Avorld there was not another soul who cared about her sorrow or tried to console her. Yet she shrank from the man's touch' —the familiarity of his approach. She'got up and stood, shakily, putting up her hands to arrange the hair that Avas tumbled and untidy. "You are so good!" she said. "Please don't think I'm ungrateful. But I'd rather be alone now." "I can't leave .you like this. Let me Avalk doAvn to the house witli you," he urged. "At all events, part Avay. You poor little soul! Do you think I don't feel pretty bad when you're in trouble? Do you suppose this is jolly for me?" They were standing face to face. Her hands were still busy with her hair and the dislodged hairpins; her quivering l fingers fumbled for them in a kind of nervous agitation. She looked into his eyes at his words, spoken in that deep sympathetic voice of his, and her oavu filled suddenly Avith big and scalding drops. Oh, he was kind —wonderfully kind —to her. She looked, and her lips quivered. With a step he had covered the ground betAveen them. He had her in [his arms, and his lips were on her oavu. j "Let me! let me!" he Avas whisperj ing. "It's only your big brother, avlio's sorry!" But no brother's lips ever pressed a J kiss like that on the lips of a sister. I She struggled to i'rpc herself. i CHAPTER XII. A STRANGE THREAT. Next, moment there came penitence, excellently feigned, even Avhile all his .pulses still leapt with'the intoxication of that kiss. She was angry, resentful, full of reproach. He Avas ready to grovel in the dust before her. She mustn't be too hard on him. She mustn't forget he loved her —that he was unhappy as she herself. He kncAv what love unrequited Avas. She stood thunderstruck at the sudden awakening. Why, yes, he must suffer too, then. Hoav could she be severe with him. Poor man —poor girl! Even if she had no warm regard for him, she could feel compassion, noAV that she kneAv the torture of love throAvn back on one, refused, slighted. "But you must neA'cr, never dare to do such a thing again!" she said emphatically. "I know you mean it only to be kind, but I can't —I can't—have it! You shall be my brother—yes. It is good for you to want it. But you mustn't do things like that. You won 't ever again, AA'ill you? And he promised with sleek glibness. Of course not! She might depend on him. "What makes yon wear his ring yet?" he demanded, all at once, as they still stood there breathless, both,

with their emotions. He caught the familiar gleam through the lace of her blouse's yoke, and a jealous resentment assailed him. "You'll take that brutal thing off now, and make an end of it?" Jh'r hand went to her throat, and she blushed painfully. "Oh, T ought to send it back to him!'' But "Reynolds interposed, hastily: "No, no! Don't put yourself in such a position. Don't let the other woman think you're pining for the man she's taken from you. "1 will bury it here —just here —under the bench,'' she said, the crimson still staining her to the forehead. She began with unsteady fingers to pull the cord above her high collar and to unfasten it. He watched it with hatred. "No, no; give it to me! I'll dispose of it." And before she knew what he was about he had jerked the cord from her and caught the ring. The next instant a gleam from the setting sun eaught is as it Hew from his hand through space, speeding through the air to the valley down there, far, far below, where the trees and shrubs made a thicket. She gave a startled cry. He caught her two hands and held them. "Hush, hush, little sister! Let me act for you. It's best to forget him and all his deception. Trust your big brother. He knows men better than you do. Let him go. He isn't worth a pang of yours! " Slowly, brokenly, feeling as if the round world held no more joy or hope within it, Sylvia turned, as he turned, and walked by his side along the path through the shrubbery. She was too spent for further self-torture. There was no one at dinner that night at Knightons. Cousin -Jane left the two to their wine as soon as she decently could. It was always trying to make talk for the Reynoldses. Father and son sat facing each other at the table. Old Reynolds poured himself out a glass of Madeira, and his mouth was set grimly.. Charteris, across the shining table, leant back in his chair, and lit a cigarette, while he stared beamingly at the ceiling. Something in the indolent complacence of his attitude irritated his father. "Look here, my lad," he said, leaning across the table and resting his arins on it. "I've got a word to say with you. Drop philandering with my pretty typist, will you? No more of that nonsense." Charteris felt his muscles contract sharply. He had almost bounded in his chair in his astonishment. Instead, he waited a second, to be sure of regaining his self-possession. "I don't knoAv what you're talking about, really!" He flicked the ash from his cigarette-tip ■ with a steady finger. "] "can't follow «thc peculiar maggots you happen to get into your brain now and then concerning me." His father grunted derisively.

'' Think yourself very clever, I suppose. Expect your old father to be put off like Cousin Jane, maybe. I tell you, once more, I'm in earnest. You drop all your philandering with that girl Miss Waterson, doesn't she call herself? —or out of this house she goes before you can say 'knife. 5 " Reynolds the younger shrugged his shapely shoulders. "If you like to go on talking riddles, sir," he said resignedly, "by all means amuse yourself. Your little typist, pretty or no —I've hardly seen her, by the way—is nothing more to me than the leg of this table. Somebody's been pulling your leg evidently. '' His father's shaggy eyebrows drew together. He could not help admiring! a clever liar, and, by Jingo! the lad had j lied Avithout the quiver of a muscle! "It wasn't pulling my leg to see you kissing her," he snapped out sharply. "That's the only information I've had on the subject. My own eyesight—good enough for me. I'm my own witness. Now, perhaps you'll deny you were on the view-path just before sunset. You didn't know I was a spectator, I suppose? Well, that's not to be wondered at. "Simmons told me there'd been a heron seen down by the pond in the valley. I went along to look for it, and took my iield-glasses. They're a pretty good pair. I saw the kiss and the sitting together ou the beach with your arm round her that went before it. Now, just listen to what I. say to von: stop it, or the girl packs. T won't have it." Charteris listened witli mingled feelings to his father's recital. Confound it all! Who on earth could have supposed the old ass would have been poking down below there? He had undoubtedly chosen a conspicuous spot for his first overtures to Sylvia, now one came to think of it. There was nothing for it but confession. He laughed indifferently, and pushed the decanter nearer his father. "Oil, well, since you played the spy, there's no use denying. Kind of usual fence, you know. One doesn't kiss and tell, even when it's a typist. ■ But you mistook the situation, I assure you—you j did, really. It wasn't love-making. I came on the little soul crying her eyes out about a Sweetheart, and I should have been a brute not to have tried to comfort her." "Humph-!" snorted the elder man. again. He knew how much of that was likely to be true, but he did not argue. ■His way was more trenchant. "All right. As you like. I don't grudge a kiss to a pretty girl once in a way, as long as that's the end of it. But i tell yon straight, I won't have any folly—none of the stuff that gets about and makes a scandal. You've got to pick your steps. I'm going to speak to you about it seriously. You've got to be making up your mind to marry." (To be continued.)