CHAPTER XXlll.—Continued.

Taranaki Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 11698, 13 December 1899, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XXlll.— Continued.

K£sjssl|ES, I have some faint recolkfjg km lection of it. something like a lErairWill dream, bat I cannot be certain,' said Sir Alan. 'Then you cannot tell me anything about them. ' No," he replied, ' I have seen bo many things since then, trifling incidents have died out of. my mind. ' It might not have been trifling to yon ; I wo-.der yon hare forgotten it/ said Mr Westerne. Sir Alan rose carelessly ; there was not a stir in the quiet figure near the window, Panl Westerne began to hate the task, but felt curious to know if Sir Alan would fail in the other two teats as he had in the first one. He had spoken of the news in the moraing^ paper, of the faahiouable gossip, of everything and anything save the tbing that filled his miud. * Sir Alan, Edith and I often wonder if you have kept the yttle keepsake she gave you when we parted ? Have you it still?' * I have been very unfortunate. I lost it some years ago. « Do youromeraberwhat.it was?' asked the artist. 'I forget. All that childish nonsense has died out of myniind so soon," B aid Sir Alan. *Do yon remember what you gave ber ?' asked the artist. This was the last test, an i if he ftiled the artist no longer e*w his way clearly. • X forget. Miss Edith will think me yery nngallant The qui«t figore at the window neter moved ; she never dpoke, and Sir Alan aU uneonscions that he was being tested continued his conversation. He remained for another half honr, and then went away, wondering all the tim€ df the time would ever come when Edith Westerne would look upon him more kindly. ♦ Iknow what it is,' he s»id as he walked down the street, * Poor Alan has been talking nonsense to her, and she thinks I ought to marry her. Was «7p-r man so t'ased? There is one woman I want to marry, one woman I ought to marry, and one woman wbo~ wants to marry me. When the door closed behind Sit Alan and the artist, with a puzzled look returned to the drawing room, Edith looked at him very calm and quietly. • Well, papa.' ' Well, my dear, it was very strange certainly. ' I have not to beg his pardon. Do you think anyone could possibly forget the incident of sowing those seeds? You remember Alan held them in his hand and the wind blew some in his c y c3 — his father and yon for long days leared he would lose his sight. For •weeks he was obliged to have his eye 3 «areful!y covered. They were nasturtium seeds sent me from England. ' I rempmber all about ifc, I do see how he could forget,' said Mr Wesfcerne. ' When we parted I had but one six psnce in the world. We broke it in two each taking half. He knew nothing of it. ■ , 'No not a wor3. lam at a loss to know what to think. He must be Alan Wayne ; he caanot be anyone else. • •* A week Inter S'r Alan called, bringing with him Lord Helstow, his most recent and fashionable frieud, to see the picture. ■ Edith was in the studio, and Lord Helstone se:med anxious to see the facp in which the artist spoke n such raptnr> ous terms, and Mr Westerne showed him the pic ure. < Edith will never forget the dull pallor and look of horror that fell across Sir Alans face aa he took the picture up— » gray, awful pallor more dreadful than daoth. She saw him try to recover himself and still the trembling of his bands. He tried once to speak but the words died away on his dry lips — died completely and made no sound ; then ho summoned up his courage, and turned the picture over in his still trembling hands. • Who is thi3 We3terne. I have seen a face somewhere like this before?' he said.

' I cannob tell von who she is. T^ met her quite accidentally and was much [ struck by her sad sorrowful expression on her face ; she seems to hare had some terrible trouble. ' Did sun never tell you what it was?' asked Sir Alan, and Edith, watching him intently, saw the awful suspense in his eyes. ' No, never. It is a wonderful face is it nofc !' ' I atn not so much «truck with it as you appear to bf». What think von, Lord Helstone V asked Sir Alan, anxiously. ' That I never saw perfect beauty and perfect sorrow combined before,' he said. ' I am giving her lessons in pnintinsr. She is very clever with the pencil,' said the artist,' j£ * Poor,' sagerested Lord Helstone. 1 And good, my lord,' returned the artist. Sir Alan longed to say he would not have the face there ; he longed to tear the sketch intu shreds, . but conscious made him a coward ;he was obliged to be content with vowinsf that the pictute must never enter Carpdale, He went throtrgh the rpf»t of the interview with tolerable fortitude. He dared net think until he was alone. When Lord Helstone left him and Sir Alan stood in the magnificent solitude of bis own apartments, muttered' enrses and imprecations rose to his lips. He hated her — he feared her. Was she ever toxise before him, poisoning eveiy moment of his life ? Was it likely that he would ever go to (Jarsdale — to the sumptuous place he had prepared for his beautiful betrothed ? Was Esther Bruce's face, in itn wild sorrow, to reproach him there forevermoro. It was well for Esther that she was not in the power of the man who had ence loved her, If necessary, if he could not silence her without, he would have her shut up ih a madhouse. He would take her beyond the seas himself and have her safe behind prison bars. Money -could do anything, surely it could lid him of Esther Brnce. ' Not murder, he said to himself. He did not mean that, but s'le must be got rid of. Shemuet go vrhere she could never atmiy him more. Even as he thought a cold mortal chill seized him — what if she,- bad already betrayed him. Yet no ; ehe had promised, and he knew that for ODe whole month she" would keep her word. Was he losing heart and spirit, now that he was bo near success. What was the matter with him. Why did •he dream through the long nights of those terrible words. ' The wag«B of sin is death.