FOR HONOUR'S SAKE

Timaru Herald, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 12911, 27 February 1906, Page 2

FOR HONOUR'S SAKE

(By Bertha M. Clay.)

CHATTER XlV.—Continued.

Stewart bailed a hansom, told tie man where to drive, and then he Hung himself back in the seat, pressing his hand tightly OTer his heart, as if he couid still its heayr throbs. i

" HeaTen grant," he said, inwardly, " I may not meet Claude alone. I know not if I could be master of myself."

But there was little likelihood of that this evening. ,He had chosen an at-home •sTening; partly that- he might-be sure of seeing Claude, and partly to avoid thedanger of meeting her for the first time, after the long separation, alone. The cab was driven fast; but it seemed to Esric Stewart' a tedious trip between. Piccadilly and Clanmore thoroughfare; but at last the driver turned into the long road, lined with trees iu their April green, and pretty vHlas ensconced in gardens.

" Here you are, sir; The Feins," and the cab stopped. Stewart sprang out, rewarded the driver with a recklessly generous fare, and passed through the open gate into the garden. There were lights in the drawing-room window, and through the partly opened casement came the sound of music Toices.

For a minute Stewart paused before he rang the bell; and yet, now that he was on the very threshold, now that in another minute he would be in Claude's presence, a strange calmness had come to him; though his heart- still throbbed so madly, he felt he had himself well iu hand. A manservant- came to the door, and, after-relieving the visitor of his wrap-coat, opened the drawing-room door, and Stewart heard his name announced across the buzz of chatter. Then he was shaking hands with Mrs Davenant, and Chris Davenant's loud, hearty voice was in his ears, his large hand grasping the slight hand of the soldier.

" Delighted to see you, Captain Stewart. Where's Claude? Ah! here she is."

Yes, Stewart knew this; it was all he really did knew/ He had a general impression of there being a good many people in the room; but the only one among them he saw, whose presence was more thaa a vague shadow to him, was the tall girl In the cream and amber satin robe, with the dark, curling hair, and the large clear eyes, full of light, who was crossing I the room toward him, ■ He went forward to meet her, and. their hands The touch of that little hand in his went like a flame through every nerve in his 'body; the look of the sweet eyes, her very presence, took his breath, seemed to make his senses reel. And she was saying, in her rich, pathetic voice: " I am so glad to see you, Captain. Stewart. How good of you to come." "I think, rather, it is you who good to give me such welcome," he answered.

Just such greetings as might have passed between two ordinary friends or acquaintances, and he spoke with the right amount of interest, and no more; he did not even hold her hand too closely, or too long. Well, it was easy for her, after .all; if her heart beat- faster, if through all her beilng ran a strange, sweet quiver of gladness, she was not actually conscious of this. She knew that she was very, very happy to meet him again, and it went like a knife to hsr heart to see how the shadow of pain in his face had deepened since she saw him in Paris: but she did not know that the gladness lay '" too deep for her divining." She did not know how sharp was the stab; but he had to guard eye, and voice, and touch; he knew all the joy and all the agony of passion that could never claim possession: perhaps, had they been alone, all the strength of iron will and long habits of self-control might not have saved him from self-betrayal; but they were not alone, and so" he was master.

"I dare say you know some of these people," said Claude: and even as she spoke four or five men came up, eager to chvim acquaintance with Captain Stewart;

and as ho was talking to a famous singer he had met hi Italy, he saw a squarebuilt, robust man. "handsome iu a.certain heavy style, approach Claude, and ask her s::meihii;g. lo which she responded by a, careless refusal. .

•Stewart bit his lip: his keen perception saw something repellent in the man's face; something in his manner, too. that he, Stewart, r-rsey.ted. Probably Claude saw it too, and that was why she refused whatever it was. He lepeated it more earnestly, and again she refused, and this time he turned away, and ths-=w himself on a- couch near. A quick frown passed over the man's face: he hesitated, seemed about to follow, when, at the moment, Stewart, with a few graceful words and a bow, turned from the singer and took the vacant place by Claude's side.

He caught the angry flush <m w.e i:i»« s face, the look of relief, and pleasure, too, on hers, and his heart throbbed the faster for the sweet knowledge that he was welcome for his own sake, not merely by comparison with a distasteful companion. "Is not that Basil Tollemache who spoke to yon jusr now??"he asked. -. . ' "Yes," said Claude;. . "do you know himt"

"By reputation, not otherwise; but I heard of him lately as having developed into a society man, and there seemed a harmony between person and description." Claude laughed. There was a. touch of bitterness in the laugh. She had learned, evidently, new and harsh lessons v.: der Chris Davcnant's roof. "He tries so hard." she said, "to be a society man. hut he always looks what he is—a cduntiy gentlem-.iti in masquerade." '• He do-jsn'i stand high in your favour?" sa'rl Stewart, quiz/.ically. "T ran't hear him." replied the girl. Vncr-mprnmiMnciy. "That is why I never •Jo pnythirg (hat he asks me 1o"do." " U;>]uokv .Tollennrhe !'* said Stewart. ~„r ] v "'7 woprtfv ir.y r ''i know how cruel vr~t ."vo tc h:in ?" "What <;n you mean?" asked the girl, ' . '-ii-ijr ~f ])im. H-c cculi live inillei a! Ler uaivette,

but for the tremor that wc.s ■• \.i; the look made him calcii hi» bie^;.; ii brought- back to him thai n.giii si* * »,:-. when those violet eyes ha--i urst me: ..n> ; it was the same cloudless f jv.o, ti.e •;.;»»* childlike purity, only now mor* w;stiu*, and could be more searching.

Mrs Davenant was right. Claude had gained more worldly wisdom, bid aS; i.jc shocks of the life sho let!, ail she ln.ujage she received, had not changed he: ical nature.

"What do I mean!" Stewart repeated, pulling his moustache, and " Don't you think any man is t-> in pitied who has earned your dislike?" "Oh! is that it!" said the girl, Ja<ignir.g. though she coloured slighliy. " I am sorry if he is made unhappy, bat I can't help disliking him: and lie is so v.inntcroting. He asks me to sing, but he doesn't understand music a bit; and !-e t-Uks m> mucli about hunting and delight*. I believe he sends prise cattle to »1m"h«." " The hist offence is rank. er;d- i-.i'y." said Captain Stewart, laughing. (Neatly, he had no cause to be jealous o- I'.im! Tolleinache. " Was he asking you :<» «ir.g just now!" " Yes."

"I wonder if I shall be mote fortr.nate — but not just yet—that is, 1 want to lajk with you now."

" I will sing whatever you wish." s.iid Claude, frankly.

"I am so thankful. I see one -r two fellows looking rather black this way," Stewart added, "but) I think 1 may usurp you for a little while after so long a separation."

Did he make that—the first—allusion to their meeting two years ago, and the, to him, terrible interregnum, to test his powers of self-command, or was it tbr.l strange love of playing with tire which seems inherent in the more daring natures?

He spoke without a tremor in his voice, yet he felt and knew that, for him, then? was danger the more because for her there was none, and she might unwittingly torture him into some self-betrayal. "It is very good of yon," said Claude, smiling, "to wish to 'usurp' me. as you call it; I don't mind, you know,' with her roguish look. " I hope not!" How was it he kept up the light tone and manner of badinage—schooled even his eyes that they should not express too much, when his heart- was burning, all his pulses throbbing. " I hope not," he said, "but, if you do, I will try to be unselfish, and yield yon up."

" Are you fishing for a compliment, Captain Stewart! You would be wty much surprised if I said: ' Well. I am rather bared; I'll go and talk to somebody else." So the corollary is, I am to say something] very pretty." " Honour bright," said he. " there is no! rod and line in this case. Ycu may pic-1 fer older, or mare valued friends wltheul voting any one a bore." He glanced, as he spoke, across the room to where Sir James Feltham was standing, looking decidedly glum. Claude's quick eyes caught the glance, and she coloured slightly, divining his half-formed thought, but not the real motive of the question." "I have no old friends." she said, with a touch of bitterness in her tone, "no friends at all; all these are only acquaintances."

Captain Stewart set his teeth, crushing down the words that rose to his lips; instead, he said, and there was deep pain in his soft voice:

"You are young to have learned the lesson that it is difficult for a beautiful woman to have friends. Forgive me." he added, as she turned a little aside, inwardly a little startled to feel so clearly that in " all these" she had not included him, whom she had seeu but twice biforc. 'I am rather forgetting. I am afraid, that 1 am as yet * only an acquaintr-nce.'" "Oh, no!" said Claude, involuntarily; and his heart leaped within him, a swift colour crossed his cheek. " Don't you know there ai-e pcopk you feel at home with at once, just as you may know other people for years, aud never feel at homo with them!" Stewart nearly lost hi.s self-command then, though perhaps the girl's very frankness helped him. But for a moment bo could Hot, dared not, speak; even when he did his voice was a little husky. Would it seem to her that he was mow deeply moved than the occasion appeared to warrant!

"It makes me very happy," he said, " that- you feel so for me." Then, with an effort, speaking iu a lighter tone, and < smiling, " Well, we ought to be good friends; we have so many things—temperament, tastes and opirdons, ;n c-mmon. and the common heritage of Celtic blood." Yet his conscience smote him to speak of friendship between himself ami Claude. Did he not exemplify his own words, that it is very difficult for a beautiful woman to have friends Claude, vaguely stirred by ih< soldier** first- words, and the tone and manner in which they were said, yet read b them now only the unutterable pat ho* of hir. desolated life; that a nature ever semd tive, ever craving for its supreme need of love, should be quickly and profoundly touched by any evidence <>f sympathy, r.vcrt br instinctive, was so obvious a truth as to veil that which lay beyond it: and so Claude was not startled, ■ but. ah! how her young heart ached for him! "We shall be good friends. 1 know," she said, and her lips trembled a little. He smiled, too: but did not meet her <yc«. His, he knew in that moment, would be too eloquent. He was losing grip of himself; he must break up this p.-.radise. for his own sake and for hci-s. "Will you.".be said, "fulfil your deferred promise?—music is anions the chief of our mutual tastes, isn't it!" Claude rcse. and he led her to the piano, but while she sans, and he listened, hi*

thoughts went back to that night in Paris,

an»l vim? they had .t.iul to c-icji nthe* ;ib .ut the forecast of !h-it voire or n face iray hold. Was hr. bv 'hf vrm irony of fate, to tnni t3ic »hin:y «he 1-n-l mlvcn:i'!cd into fnrt? \V;i<: ho to make her s«rff:r tl": j>aii> s"".V v.irp nmpiiesterf in its ptonHar t»at?<<■.«? Ff o*'--jle«l lwfnrc the f'•*«»* hj« had <n-*Alr courted, and uiadiy courted stiH. Ho*.

s„ J 3 cr very pjc.vencc. coald be b»vc 3 ~.r cv<:si the r.:vh U» tcaouacc jl3V;'i bad U» bin, il be »<»S«4 prcoS. 3jriw ai'ter aJI. Ip the b»3d tba.l i ««j; tout ov« How uoriy, ami* ;]..rs <««, be bi4 failed! What fwifc • > JJC have 3a bsjntcli when Ut tempi biai? A 3* ok, a touch, a or int'oaaTimt* might, in or.e mutant. *w«p away wilj, "ii'.ns.ur, jscH-cpmmand, and leave hiffl ai the mercy of the farces be bad luel i« :i).uicr. Ar<i Claude"* Vfiitc wjus UwilJjfcg bias through and ibrougb. making hi* very i-c.vcn tortm*, hi* toriuie cc*l»*y. Too late lo draw back oow: i</o late, if be would, and be would not 1 Had be not mailt, «riiea be one to-night. ;o ««« "Claude often!' Temptation. peril! whit then? He could nr.: trror.g bcr. hi* k<re mntl i always worship: and be »!iflcd the inner| voice that told it wju? a wrong to her to i win a love that be never crown witb his honour and his 'c.xroc. (To be continued.)