FOR HIS DEAR SAKE

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXV, Issue 145998, 3 December 1917, Page 8

FOR HIS DEAR SAKE

ATTRACTIVE STORY OP STRONG DOMESTIC INTEREST.

By RUTH TEMPLETON, Author of “The Price of Her Silence,” “The Tie That Binds,’' “Love -Forbidden,” etc., etc.

CHAPTER XVll.—Continued. He drew back amazed. Could it be that Lyuette had really changed? But no. Ho would rather believe anything than that. “I know Seaton for a scoundrel,” he said quietly, “capable of using the most unscrupulous means to further his own ends. Possibly be has told you that he holds a terrible secret of mine, and if so, what be says is true. It is in his power to ruin me, but if, as I suspect, he has demanded tiiat you shall marry him as the price of his silence, then I swear I will beat him at his own game. Rather than you shall he allowed to sacrifice yourself, Lynette, 1 will force Seaton to do his worst. Anything, even death, would be preferable to the agony of knowing that you had bartered your freedom for my sake.” Ah! So her suspicious were justified. Owen would go to his death rather than let her sacrifice herself to Seaton. But he must never know—she must play her part so well that he remained convinced that she was taking the step of her own free-will. ' She forced a light huigh to her bps. “You must remember that Dr. Seaton is an ojd friend of mine, and, judge me fickle if you will, but when I knew ’ for certain that we could never be anything to each other again, i did not re-fuse to listen to his oner —of love.” iaor calm assertion ana the manner in waiui sac mane it, staeuxt uwcii *-u t.ii: a can. tic- coiau scarcely believe lac cviuciicc ol ins cars. -L.yiictu.- s love, co which fie Juki pmnea uu n.s iai in, u thing hi nguinos and ot iitue worth 1 Venice surviving uic space ol a tew linei weens, lie did not know that each word she nau spoiien was Uiio a KUiie turned in her heart, lie stepped back a puce. "Then i nave been 100 precipitate? I misjudged you in thinning you were dodig tuis—lor me. ’ .Lyueue looked up at him for a licet- j ing moment, tnen inclined her head. I cino could not bring her bps to voice the words tiiat must destroy his lauii in her lor ever. “I would not have troubled you to meet me here if I had known, i apologise”—his voice was coin and expressionless—'Tor interfering in , a matter tuat you have shown me is no concern of nunc. 1 was a fool. 1. judged the quality of your love differently. I see 1 have been mistaken—l ” He could say no more, and Lynette was glad. His voice cut like a knife. Ah 1 If ho could only have known what she was suffering—that this was the worst of all to boar. And ho would never know that her love for him would go to the very end—would never know tiiat she was sacrificing more than her life for him. But through the darkness a ray of light pierced. He might believe her faithless, but she would always have the satisfaction of knowing that she had saved him. “You talked of friendship when last We met. Cannot wo still be friends?” He saw her outstretched hands, but did not take them. “I loved you, Lynette, more than 1 thought any man could love anything on this earth, and I believed that your love was stronger, greater even, if possible, than mine. You must not blamo me if I am bitter at hearing from your own lips that, within a few short weeks, you have promised to marry another man.” With difficulty, Lynette kept back the dry sob that roso to her throat. “I do not blame you.” He did not catch the sad weariness of her voice, nor sec that her eyes were bright with glistening • tears. Life seemed suddenly very complex, and there was so much that she could not understand. “I expect in time you will forgot me,” if she had not given a shrill little laugh, she must have burst into uncontrollable weeping, “and that will be the end of the story so far as wo are both concerned.” Hurt at what he took to be a flippant note in her words, Owen turned abruptly away. “I hope, for both our sakes, we shall not meet again,” ho said sadly. Goodnight.” Lynette had made no answer .when Owen bade her a. last “Good-night. She stood staring at his retreating figure until it had disappeared from view, great sobs shaking her slender form. Then, after a while, she grew more calm and turned back towards the house, her fact saint-like in its white purity. What mattered the future now? Her love bad triumphed, proving itself omnipotent. Her sacrifice was complete. Lynette purposely avoided both the colonel and Mrs. Hedderwick on her return, slipping in by the kitchen quarters, and going straight to her room, after telling Mary her head ached badly, and if any inquiries were made, to say that she had gone to bed. But though her room was in darkness, she made no attempt to undress. She sat by the open window, her hands pressed close against her throbbing temples, her slender form shaken by the storm of emotion raging within her. It is often the way, after a decisive stop lias been taken and the excitement of the moment over, that the real suffering comes. So it was with Lynette, and there in the darkness she clrank to the last bitter dregs, the cup of suffering placed To her lips. After a while she got into bed, and exhausted with all she had gone through fell asleep, her wet lashes folded peacefully over her lovely eyes. It was late the next morning when she awoke, and she lay for a few moments watching the brilliant sun bathing the turning leaves in a flood of crimson and gold. Just then tho door opened, and Mrs. Hedderwick herself came in, with a tray on which was spread an appetising breakfast. Placing it on a chair, she bent over and kissed Lynette. “It your head better, dear? Mary said it was bad Inst night.” Lynette looked up into the gentle, motherly face. If only she could have told her friend all! “Much better, thank you, Mrs. Hcdderwiek, but I feel ashamed that you should wait on me like this.” Mrs. Hedderwick’s answer was a firm hug. “Eat your breakfast, like a good child,” she said fondly. “You don’t look a bit well. I shall tell Jim you’re not up to a canter to-day.” “No. please don’t,” was Lynetto’s reply. “There's nothing I’d like better. I’ll be ready by ten o’clock, if CjJolonel Hedderwick will wait.” “You trust him,” was the laughing

response. “I'll go and tell him you’re going, then.’’ The first thing Lynotto noticcrl as she took up the tray was a little pile of letters at one side. The top one was from Sirs. Sylvester, and was full of a long list of grumbles which faintly amused Lynette. Several little bills came next’, and then the bottom one, in a- handwriting that struck Lynette by its peculiar “flourishes as one she had novel' soon before. She opened it with some curiosity, more than a little surprised when slip saw that the note-paper was stamped with the Beverley address “Crossgates.” Her astonishment grew as sho perused the short note. Dar Miss Svlvester. ot ran). —“If you care to call at ‘Crossgates’ this oven inn, any time after five. I have something to tell von which I think might prove of great interest to yon. Don’t trouble to let me know whether you are coming or not, I shall he in in any case. ° Yours sincerely, Pauline Silver.”

A curious sensation seized Lynette. The letter seemed to portend something evil, sinister almost, and a shiver of dread passed through her. M bat could Pauline Silver have of interest to say to her? In what strange way was tins wrnvin’s fate bounci up with hors? When she had dressed, Lynette placed the note awav, but her mind was made un. She would go and see Pauline Silver that evening, if only to show her that she did not fear her in any in the ha-11. Colonel Hodderwick was waiting for her, and Lynette found herself forced into. cheerfulness as sho cantered at li is side over tno glorious countryside, returning to the nail in time for tea. It was growing -dusk when the meal was finished, and Lvnctte realised that any time now Pauline Silver would bo expecting her. _ ~ . , As it happened, Mrs. Hcdderwick wanted her to run into Beverley to call at the vicarage, respecting a big charity bazaar that was being organised, so that there was no need to tnako any excuse, and the moment her errand was done Lynette turned down Hie nicturcs'i'ie lane that led to “Crossgates.” No one seemed about, and to Lynotte’s surprise the front of the Mouse was in darkness. Sho rang tho bell twice, but received no answer, and was about to turn away, when she noticed that tho door was not properly fastened. She pushed it a little further open, surprised that the house was apparently unoccupied, yet not securely locked up. Something seemed to prompt her to cross tho threshold, why sho never quite knew, and finding herself in the narrow, tossciated hall, she moved a few steps further to the door of Paulind Silver’s room.

All was still, the silence almost eerie, so complete was it, Uynctto felt sure that Paulino or the trench maid, Cerise, must bo in the garden. Not earing for a. fruitless errand, she decided to investigate, and with this idea in view, quietly opened the door immediately in front of her. It was not too dark to make out tho inanimate objects in the room, nor to mark the contrast between the black and gold furnishings, Lyncttc picked her way carefully towards tho long windows that led into the garden, and looking out. thought “or an instant that she saw someone coming up the path. She was within n few feet of the window. when she tripped and almost fell, a low cry of horror escaping her nps, as she bent down and touched something soft and cold. At that very moment tho window was pushed open from without and Cerise ramo m, dressed in her outdoor clothes. In a flash her hand went up, and she switched on the light, floodin'* the room with mellow radiance.

Tbe next instant, a terrible cry left her lips, for on the floor at her feet lay the lifeless form of Pauline Silver murdered, shot through the heart! (Continued daily.)