HE HALF OF HIS KINGDOM

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 764, 22 July 1916, Page 3

HE HALF OF HIS KINGDOM

! CHAPTER XXVIL— (Continued.) ST. OSBYTH DEMANDS AN \ ANSWER.

She received no answer, and was beginning to speak again when she saw that St. Oaryth had turned his head away, and was again looking intently

at the stage. "Quite in a reverie," thought the dowager, pleasantly conscious that she could not even win his attention; "and Mary? is just the same. Things seem to be going as well as possible." Wheliier they were or not, only Lady Mary could have told, and if she had been obliged to do so she would have confessed that for the rest of the show she might as well have been alone. Up till then he had been gay, bright, and attentive; but from the moment he had lifted his glasses she had nothing from him but jerky sentences and forced attention. He started when she spoke to-him, and answered at random, till even Lady Mary, who was not exacting, drew her own conclusions and put them boldly into words. "Do you know that girl?" she asked, conscious that perhaps the remark was not in good taste, knowing, as she did, that society girls were taught to ignore any acquaintances between their friends and dangerous rivals behind the footlights.

The words had slipped out, and she did not regret it. "Yes, I do," he .answered shortly. "How verv pretty she is! Don't you think so?" " Very.''

"And not a bit nervous, for a newcomer. One would think she had been at it all her life." He made no answer. "What is her name?" St. Osryth lifted the programme, and turned it over with a hand that, trembled ever so slightly; running his eye down the list of names he came to that of "Miss Daphne Jardine." So that was the name she had taken! St. Osrvth handed the programme to Lady Marv, and looking at the stern fixity of his face she forbore to say more, feeling somehow an inward conviction that the evening was spoilt, and that the little supper suggested by the other member of the party, and agreed to by St. Osrvth, would not take place. She was right. No sooner had the curtain fallen on the massed stage, with its contrasting colours and rows of faces than he hurried them out and into the motor car in waiting; then taking off* his hat he spoke to her mother. "I'm pi awfully sorry, but I've remembered an appointment. Can I ask you to exi use me?'' There was»nothing to be snid, and he cut short her regrets and remarks as abruptly as he dared, turning away with a smile that, included them nil, and had in it nothing special for the pole girl oyer whose face a shadow hid fallen. If he bad seen it he would not have rarcd, for what does the pain of others signify when the hurt in our breas! is all we can think of? There was a blackness before his eves that cleared gradually away as he turned down a side street, and made his wav to the stage door; but his heart still beat heavily, and a furious :;w-rrr had possession of him that, was like (he rages that used to stir him in his yo mg, undisciplined days. He was stopped just inside the stage door by the porter, who looked at him from the small cage-like Ofik-e, through an aperture that gave on to a sort of couuter. "I want to see Miss Parsons—T mean Miss Jardine-'' "No visitors allowed," said the functionary hoarsely, turning again to the cup of tea that stood at his elbow. St. Osryth took out his card. "You were at the Merriment, weren't you?" he asked, staring at the large red face under the peaked cap. "Yes, I was, my lord, and many's the time I've seen you. No difficulty made there about visitors; but Mr Dennis is very particular, and he won 't have the ladies disturbed in any way." '' Nonsense! '' said St. Osryth. '' The show's over, and I've come to see Miss Parsons home; but first I want a word with her.'' "It's impossible, my lord. She dresses with 20 others, and you wouldn't be able to speak to her." St. Osryth took out a five-pound note. "Look here," he said, "I haven't come to pay an ordinary visit to an actress, or to take anyone out to supper, or anything of that sort. I know Miss Parsons very well; she's a kind of relation of mine, and I just want the chance of saying a word. Take this, and don't make any fuss." The doorkeeper stared at the crackling note, and being a family man, as well as an excellent fellow in his way, his thoughts went back to the home and to the pleasure this access of wealth would give them —a coat and hat for the missus, a jaunt to the theatre for the kiddies. He rose uncertainly and came out of his sentry-box. "Look here, my lord," he said hoarsely, "1 'II go up and see how the land lies. Do vou wish vour name mentioned or not?"

"No," said St. Osryth. "Very good. A gent on important business, that's your style. Wait here, and I'll come back." He was a long time gone, during which St. Osryth, ignoring the tall stool in the coiner, stood with folded arms and brows bent until his acquaintance returned, when he saw that the news was good. "As luck would have it," said the man, "she's been moved at the request of Miss Lester to a small dressing-room near hers, and she's there alone at this moment, for the dresser's just left her to attend to Miss Lester. You follow me, and if we don't meet no one the thing's as good as done." They passed up a circular staircase that seemed as if it would never end, along draughty corridors, dimly lit, to a small whitewashed door, where the doorkeeper rapped loudly. v "Come in," said Daphne's voice, an I St. Osryth walked in, closing the door behind him. Sho .was standing at the dressingtable with her back towards St.. Osryth. but she turned at the opening of the door and stiffened with amazement. "You!"

"Yes," said St. Osryth, and she started at the fierceness in his voice. "I've caught you this time. You send your servant to drive me away, and you refuse to answer my letters, and then

By LADY TROUBRIDGE, Author of "A Marriage of Blackmail," "A House of Cards," etc.

you write me this: so I bribed the doorkeeper, and a word with you I will have, whether you get me turned out or not." "Why do you speak like that?" she asked tremblingly. "What have I done ?''

"What have you done?" he repeated. "Oh, nothing, of course—that is, nothing to you! But you've broken my heart, Daphne, and made me suffer so that my life has been a hell. And, finally, you write me this—that is to say, if you did write it."

He drew out the letter from his inner pocket where he always carried it, and flung it down in front of her. She made no motion to take it, only stood staling at him, her great eyes artificially darkened, looking at him from the small painted face, the makeup of which added a touch of irony to the tragedy in her expression. Open it—read it!" he commanded. "Yes, ] insist upon it." She took it mechanically and smoothed it out.

"Read it," he repeated, almost be side himself.

"I am reading it," said Daphne, while the great tears began to fall. "So you ran cry," said St. Osryth. "I'm glad of it; it shows that you are human, which I had begun to doubt. But what are your tears to those you have made me "shed! Mine were tears of blood, and each one of them made me feel ashamed.'' "Oh, I can't think how you can speak to me like that," she sobbed. St. Osryth came close up to her, and held the let-ten up in front of her eyes.

"Did you or did you not write me that letter?" he said. "If you didn't, I'll ask you to forgive me on my knees; if you did, then everything is over between us. What do I say? I can see by vour face that, there never was anything at all, but on my side there was so much that I'd rather die than have it. end; but this is more than any man can stand. Answer!" he added impatiently.

"I shall not answer you," said Daphne. "You refuse to give me an answer! Aren't I worth even Yes or No? I gave vou my mother's ring; I've loved you better than my own soul, yet you won 't even answer me."

"I didn't mean that," said Daphne, nearly distracted. "I mean that I can't deny it." "Then if you can't deny it, you did it."

She was silent. "Very well," he said; "then so be it; that ends it for ever." And he turned and walked out of the room.

CHAPTER XXVIIT. A SUPPER PARTY

As the door closed behind him Daphne sank on a chair, and fell forward, her hand on the letter, and her face on her hand. For a moment it was a relief to feel the silence round her instead of that voice, with its concentrated bitterness, and the words that lashed her like whipthongs. At first she had hardly understood him; then gradually it had dawned upon her that someone else must have written the letter, and all the time she stood silent her brain was whirling

tvfter a clue. Could Margaret have dared? No, impossible! She could not have imitated her handwriting so well. Then it must be her father; and simultaneously had come the instinctive desire 1;o hide his action, and never to let St. Osryth know that, he could have been guilty of anything so mean and so unworthy.

If she had had time to reason it out, she might have understood how little it would have mattered to him to know her father guilty, so long as she herself was blameless. If he had been less violent, less crushing in his demands and passionate reproaches, slie most certainly would have confessed the truth, but she had been taken unawares and obliged to trust blindly to the instinct, of loyalty. And now, in spite of her love, she felt a longing never to see St. Osryth again—at least not until, by some miraculous agency, he could know the truth. It. would kill her, she thought, to meet the fire of those accusing eyes and to hear any more cruel words, and the longed for something in the nature of a shelter where she could hide herself for evermore. She felt utterly crushed and beaten, and oh, so tired. "Are you ready?" called a voice; and, lifting her head, she saw Allele Lester in a wonderful black dress of glistening sequins, relieved with touches of white lace. "My dear, I've been waiting for you, ami we're 10 minutes i late as it is. The men will be simply furious! ''

"I'm not dressed," stammered Daphne, rising to her feet. "And you've been crying," commented Miss Lester. "Silly little fool! It's only the excitement. You did very well indeed, ami you'll dance that dance till you're sick of the very sound of the tune —that I can tell vou for a certainty."

"If you'll excuse me, T don 't think T'll i-orne out," murmured Daphne. "I really do feel a bit overdone." "Nonsense!" said Miss Lester promptly. "You won't, know yourself after a good glass of champagne. But how we're to wait for you while von dress, 1 can't imagine. I know," aha added hastily; "just take off that silly pinafore and put on a pair of white shoes ami stockings, and come as you are. That dress is perfectly sweet. You need some flowers, hut Steerfor'h is sure to give them to you, so just you come along as you are." So it was arranged, and after a period of scurry, white silk stockings and satin shoes were added, and a cloak of Adele's was thrown round her. She caught one glimpse of her own face in the glass, and stopped short. "Oh, I look so awful! What, shall T dot" she said plaintively; and indeed her face was ashen. "This," said Miss Lester promptly, seizing a hare's foot, and applying some rouge. "Yes, very little, but. it'll make all the difference. There now! No one would know you had shed a tear." It was certainly pleasant in the cosy brougham that took them to the Savoy, and Adele chattered the whole way of the compliments that had been showered upon her. "My dear, when I came on the house simply rose at me, atnl f must say it was gratifying after Arnold's snubs. He's done everything in his power to make me feel a failure, but I suppose the reason is he grudges me the salary; but he'll never find a better draw than

I am. liven his brother said to mo, I Wo can’t afford to have yon out of the hill | a day, or down go the hookings.’ Well, what more do they want? Tiiat’s what 1 say, Daphne; and though you’ve made a success, my dear, and I’m only too ready to own it, it is what I call a I success of circumstances. You suit the | part, and the part suits you; but the I day will conic when you’ll hold the pub- j lie in the hollow of your hand—make | them laugh, cry, sing if you wish, and j then you’ll know how far you've got i on from where you are now. ” (To ho continued.)