Tony's Share.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIIC, Issue 14141, 26 February 1910, Page 1 (Supplement)

Tony's Share.

(B Mrs. W. K. Clifford.) Tony St. Quentin was the best felIr--;: in* the world, well off and indolent, sis feet high with a boyish face and pinee-us:: on a rather funny nose, that made him look younger than he was. By profession he had something to do with a slipping office, no one had ever quite grasped what, and it doesn't matter in the least. It served to take him out every morning, and to give him the" excuse of occupation till after four in the afternoon. Then he was generally to be seen at White's or some other of his clubs, he belonged to four or five. In the season he dined out and went on to parties, or to the paly and supped; the Carlton and the Savoy knew him well, he had running accounts, at ~_. both. He lived in St. James's Street (over a curiosity shop), where he had pleasant rooms, and occasionally gave luncheon or tea parties, as the case might be, when Royal functions were in progress and his windows were a desirable point of- view. Tony was not a sentimental persons, but he liked a little flirtation: it generally took tho form of quiet .chaff, flowers, and chocolates, the theatre parties and-supper afterwards, always, of course, with a. chaperon included, generally a youthful one. He was not in the least sentimental, and had never thought of "a woman without a happy smile till a year ago last March. Then something occurred. One morning, as he was going downstairs, on the way to his somewhat mythical _ employment, a. tall, slim woman, evidently young, passed him. She- had appealing eyes, and an air that proclaimed her to be -a foreigner. Tony raised his hat, he - was always well mannered, and passed on. He was at the bottom of St. James's Street before it occurred to him to say to himalmost aloud, "Wonder who she was?" Then he forgot her. He went - back rather early that afternoon to write some notes before going out for the evening, and ho met her again— '■ she was just going in. And again, he lifted his hat; the eyes looked at him this time with the faintest sign of recognition in them. That was all. ; Her face haunted him all the evening; there was such a lot in it, he told himself. .. The next morning, faintly, but distinctly in the same house, he thought „ from one of-the i;op garrets, came the sound of a violin. Tony was not a bit musical; he didn't know the air (or whether it was being played well or ill), but it was slow and a good deal on the high notes: and'it mada him feel sombre and sentimental, as if he wanted to go out and do things that he never would do, either in this world or the nest. He opened the door for a minute in order to hear it better, and wondered if he knew it. "It's one of the things you feel as if you knew anyhow; perhaps it's that girl playing—believe it is." And- he went back to his "Times." He always read, the "Times"; he thought it dull, but the right thing to do at breakfast-time. He forgot the violin; the sounds faded into silencej perhaps because he had shut the- door, or because the kidney and bacon/were excellent, - of the news from South Africa unpleasant ; and likely.to cause a slump—lie had a little deal .on in Kaffirs but he was reminded of itwhen the servant brought in a telegram, for he hoard it again going on. "Who's that playing the fiddle Tipstairs?" he asked; he always said fiddle—violin sounded a little precious. "Miss Leitner, sir." "Oh, who's she?" "Lady taken the lop front room for a week 'or two,' sir—till- she goes back to Vienna." -"Is she an Austrian?" "Don't know, sir; she's a foreigner, anyway. Mr. Heger was the German landlord of the house. "What does she do —teach or any-' thing?" "Don't know, sir; goes out a good deal, takes her ■ violin, so perhaps she does. Some.more toast? >. Yes, sir." By dint of a little listening and obEervation Tony discovered -that ' . Miss Lettner went out before noon every day and came back at about five,, and that she always wore black; he divined that she liked flowers, for once or twice in the course of the nest week she returned with a few daffodils or narcissus in her-hand; she had bought them, in the street, he suspected; for they were not in white paper. Having established these facts to his satisfaction he felt worthy of Sherlock Holmes. Gradually he came to know her face well- it was pale, and her features were clear cut, she had a sensitive mcuth and grave, dark eyes with straight brows over them; her hair was black as a ravei'i wing—-this ■ was Tony's _ comparison, but his acquaintance with ravens was limited, if it existed at all. He thought she was . about four-and-twenty some times, hut there were days- when he wouldn't have : been surprised : to hear that she was agood'dealmore. But she go at the end of a week—at the end of nearly three she was still there-V and the very faint bowing acquaintance between them had become more pronounced—to the extent of .a smile and rather a long look of recognition, nothing more —yet gradually, * without henirr aware of it, he nas" becoming possessed by her. He cast about in h s mind anxiously for some means of extending the 'acquaintance; he hadn't the courage to speak without a definite pretext and; he culd think of nothincr plausible. - ° He went to a levee that season. He thought it "rather rot, you know," still his relations insisted on it, for his uncle had a title and oropcrty which ho was bound to get some day if the old boy, who was sixty-two, didnt marry. He looked extremely well in .lis Court dress. When it was ever he went back to St. James's Street at a time that was not usual with ,him. _ Three steps from the door of his/sitting-room he met Miss Leitner coming downstairs—at ia time that was not usual with her. She stood on iho landing looking at him. ' "Oh," she exclaimed, "how beautiful L" and a smile lighted ut> her face. Tony beamed with joy, and" lifted his cocked, hat. "The levee," he said. ' Do they alwavs wear those things for it in England?" she asked. "By Jove! she has a musical voice, and the foreign accent is awfully fetching," he thought. "Well, it depends what your hue is," he explained. "The civilians wear these, but the get-up is different for some of the professions." "I see." She bowed ler head, srisled again, and made a little movement as if to pass on. Tony felt that tie was dismissed. He hadn't got very £t that time, but he had heard her s- -£. and that was something; in fact, he counted it as a good deal. A couple of hours later chance befnendod him. It was no good going to the office that day, so after changing his clothes he went to the club and "read the papers; then it occurred to him that he would go home, have some tea and get through a jorum of letters! There was Aunt Sarah in the country ' —awfully good soul, but a worry, inK.sted on being written to and. all that fcsrfc of thing. He had never anything to sav to her; still he was at a loose end, and her© was an opportunity, whh the levee to tell her about. He let himself in, shut the door, rang the boll, ordered tea. and a muffin—yes, fry Jove, ha wouM have a muffin. "I (Bay —two!" he called after Sikes as he stood, by the inlaid writine table, his peopfe had driven him. opening bfg iny:*'ttluns- "I'm _ , - 'TeVjSir": an, 3 Sikes disappeared. {Suddenly outside there was-.n 'smash oai • gmothered cry. He rushed to t '

the door. Miss Leitner was bending over some flowers and scattered glass, i "Oh, I say!" he exclaimed. She was almost in tears, and he saw her more plainly than he had ever done before; she looked a little worn, hut quite young. "Oh, what shall I do? My poor i flowers!" "A worse catastrophe still, I fear. You've broken something " He said it in a sympathetic voice, but inwardly he was rather pleased, and cogitating artfully how to improve the occasion. "My beautiful vase," she answered tearfully, kneeling • down and picking up one or two fragments. "I bought it to put my flowers in; there was nothing for them in my room. It was such a beautiful vase," she went on in a pathetic voice; as far as he could judge it looked extremely cheap and common, hut probably she didn't know; "and it was so expensive," she added, looking up at- him with tears in her : dark eyes. - J "What a shame! I am so sorry. Can't I do anything?" He was helping her - to gather up the flowers as he spoke; their faces were quite near, and she looked so ■ pathetic that he longed—yes, unromantic Tony did—to kiss her, but. of course, it was impossible. Suddenly ; he had an inspiration. "Look here, let me give you something to put them in; there are heaps of pots in mv room—come in and choose." He sprang up, she raised herself to her knees, he gave her his hand, she was on her. feet in a minute. "Oh, but " she hesitated; her eyes were wonderful with that questioning look in them, he thought. "It's all right,"- he said. "Sikes ■will pick up the glass—might cut yourself"—Sikes was coming upstairs with a tray—"and. look here, you are upset; do come in and have some tea—we are neighbours; it would be friendly." Half hesitating, she entered. Tony knew how to make himself comfortable, and his rooms were delightful. The one they were in had china and old weapons about, bonks, and' tures, and an intellectual air that was extremely reassuring, though it lardlv belonged to its owner. ""You shall .choose something;' I don't want all these things," he said: "it would be awiully good of you to take one or two away. 'Mother cuo.. Sikes. V In a providential manner," he ad&-?d, turning to Miss Leitner, "Lordered two muffins instead of one." His tone : - had become more easy, but it was not less deferential. ■•'..'• On looking at her he "twigged," to use his own slang, that ker.iiress was shabby, beautifully cut; he knew when the hang of things . was right—but shabby. He, felt certain she was poor, he suspected that in some way she worked for her living, and was not doing it well, and that she was lonely; but he might have guessed that from the fact, that she lodged by herself in a top attic. His manner was singularly soothing and ingenuous he v as a charming boy, be it understood, five-and-twenty, but a boy, and always would be one. It was impossible to help liking him, and Miss Leitner evidently did, all signs of, tears quickly vanished, and smiles came to her pathetic mouth, while her eves retained their gravitv. She walked round c£ ny i S room adm iring his brio-a-brac bhe knew the originals of 1113 autotypes, which was more than he did, they had mostly been presents from BM relations. She recognised the photographs of the figures of King Arthur and Duke Ludovic in the Franciscan Church at Innsbruck. He had been rather hazy about them himself; he thought it awfully clever of her. ■j° n » but your room lovely," she said, and settled down by the brass tea tray, and again he told himself how fetching the foreign accent was. M like it; mine is so bare; and the roof slopes down. There is nothing m J* -1 have only one room—l mean nothing beautiful, except mv viohn " "Awfully jollv to" -live that though," he said. "I often listen' to you." "I must come and play for you some day." "Do you—do anything with it—teach«' he asked, anxious to know more about' her without seeming impertinent. "Oh, no, I don't do it well enough to teach; I wish I did. I do a littlesomething." She broke off- to' -take some cream. She went on:: "How good it is—this tea; and the muffin—so good—we never have ,it in Vienna; it is quite English—it is devious." He _ handed her some more. She took it almost eagerly; he could have fancied that she was hungry, she ate all her own—the one he counted hers —and a piece of his into the bargain without seeming to know it. He wished there had been some'cake, but there wasn't. When everything was consumed she looked 'up at him regretfully "It is over," she said, "and I must go." "But first you must choose sometiling to put the flowers in. Let's walk round the room." "Oh, no, I cannot take away one of your beautiful things " "Oh, yes, you can. Come." The barriers were breaking down. She gave a little laugh, it was young, musical, charming. He put his-hand on her arm. She didn't resent it. They looked at lis bits of china and Bohemian and Salviati glass together. "I Ike that bowl best of all," slip said, stopping in front of a blue and white Worcester one. She had excellent taste, he thought; he wisheel it hadn't been quite so good, for that particular bit had belonged to his grandmother, and his belongings might give him a wigging if thev came and found it gone, but it didn't matter; Sikes would be sure to break it at some time. Why shouldn't she have it? "All right," he said, "take it; and look here, h"ve these two little glass things as well." She clasped her hands and looked up at him. "What can I say to you —what can "I do?" Rpalhr. sle_ was awfully pretty, and he didn't believe she was a day more than four-and-twenty been worried perhaps, and that made her look older at first sight. "I say." he asked —his voice was a little tremulous, for he felt bold and bad for proposing it—"would vou ever care to go to a theatre? You must be dull living aldne." 1 "Oh, no; I'm glad to be quiet," she said with a little shudder. "But"— and her face lighted *ud—"l should love to go to a see something." "Good. I'll gPt seats—a box." It suddenly occurred to him that, the seclusion of a box would be well, in case there were relations; they had a genius for turning up at the wrong moment. "Suppose." he nut it very tentatively, "we" had a bit of dinner first—Savov—or tho Cecil, which is awfully ouiet, you know." "Oh, the Savoy," she said with just a little rautnre. It made him feel that they would have what he called a beano. "I've longed to'go there so much." "We'll do it,"_ lie said. "We'll do it," he cried with boyish exultation. "When shall it be? Let's see, this is Friday. Suppose we say Monday or Tuesday?" ~ ' , ' "Tuesday," she said. , "It will be beautiful." I So they went. That time of half a dozen. There 'was "-nothing imorbper in it from first to 'last; let that be understood. Tonv looked in her 1 face and listened - for her, laugh, and | gave her an arm once or twico-.as they. through the crowd of-the or as they walked, a, few steps in v order to get a cab more quickly.' nnd."-tbe I sense of ler tricing 'it was deliehtfnl-; r but that was all. He never., so her hand for Jin unnecefsnrv I minute, and. he'knew no mcre^ahout

her at the end of a month than he had ' at the beginning. He gave V her presents. She had the queerest, -most innocent way of asking for them. That first time, for instance, when she came downstairs—he was listening for J her—ready for the theatre, in her very j simple black dress with the . trahsI parent yoke and sleeves, and a gauze scarf about her shoulders, he would have been quite surprised had he ; known what was coming. She clapped . her hands softly and for joy as he ' ; came out of his room to nieet her, j in evening dress of course, with a■' \ thin; overcoat which fell back and : showed his white shirt-front and im- j j maculate tie. ; "It feels so good to be going out 'once more," she, said. Her voice was pathetic again, and the worn look I returned. "It is like Vienna, my dear Vie J ma .' But wiU you like.to go with ! me? I'm so simple"—she looked down at her dress—"and I have no ! ? evening cloak at all—l have nothing." I The_ last words went to his heart and I made him reckless, especially when ;she shivered, though she laughed and J drew the thin scarf round her. I "I say, do let me give you one — ; something else warmer, you know, j You'll catch your death o'f cold else. I Let's drive to a shoo, if there's one jopen. I have heaps of money/ Wait I ] <?ne. moment." He went'back quick-'1 ly, opened a bureau, put something in ! his pocket, and returned. "Could we '< ! get anything? Will the shops be I shut at this time?" I "It is a quarter to seven," she j answered, breathlessly, as impulsive ' ]as he was. "And many shoos will be , open 'till seven. We will go" quickly " j They did. There was a long black ; ; satin, cloak lined with red and with a j deep red hood to it—he called it a "flapping thing." It was wonderful j how well it suited her. "Oh, but I like it," she said,' with • almost childish glee. "Am I really to j havo it ?" j -"And some lace—that senrf doesn't i go with it—just to soften it at the throat—eh?" He felt that lie was be-' , having like a man about town, ..and' j showing her that he knew all .about thmgs. lace was bought. It was'' rather expensive; but her taste was so excellent. ! I "But now my gloves," she said; : "they are; too shabby." She was carrying a grubby little well-worn pair ! that had once been nearl-grey, and ; showed him a hole in the 'fore-fino'er | , cfj one of them. ° ' ."All right," he said, exnltingly. I She was ripping, he told' hiniself;' I though he was beginning to get a'little' nervous, for he had only brought out twenty, pounds, and • there was the dinner as well as the theatre to nay for he had en'- teWl-ned for tho box, and not yet paid for it. However he had lcose clringe and 1 couple of half-sovereigns tint v ould come m for odds and . -ids The money held out, let it be said —just. ' -T l,e nevfc dav he sent her a box | of chocolates and some- uoaers, pnd rc--1 ceivpd in return i litilo noxe ' Ho v can I thank vou p —C L" fully ! n ee —much better thin a lettei" ,he said to him-jelf—though he° vould 1 have liked a beginning and ending thev always made p note more excit'ng However, it uas left to fish for—and ' ,he did fish , At the end of the month—it was no I 1 good bbr-king it—Tonv was ,n love ' not violently, but plepsanth, and after ' his ou n fashion He thovght of her 1 ■ day and night, trying to dti ,se means 1 of seeing her. speculating as to her I antecedents But it as no good lead- | ing the conversation m that direction; j she only shook her head a little an' said, "Ah, no' You mi stn't talk to me about bygones Tney were sad, and to-day I want to be haiuy." S 1 he waited, and was hair v too lis 1 suspected her people of beino; ur-lun 4 I to her, of trying "to mrke her marry 1 I someone she didn't like, perhaps 1 Anyhow, she shouldn t be bother >d Ino-sv; she should tell him about, he>-' self when she chese, and not be c i 3 Suddenly chance enh-htened 1 1 r ' Some country cousins-ai rived Tony was rather bothe, ed by tho n, 1 for they liked hint—insisted on ' dining in Grosveuor Gardens, they were staying with a nii-tna' avnt I going to the theatre, and don r various shows It was rather d s" jtracting, seeing that lis heart—or his I thoughts, at any rate— >,ero 111 the top garret in St. James's, Street. TJut t couldn't be helped. Tony had taken a dav off to co +0 'tho Academy with Violet and Daisv , (the cousins) He spent the ! there, and took them to lunrh at • Prince's, then they insisted on being 1 taken to a curious little dress exhil 7tion to be seen in Regent Street— ' [beautiful dresses on dumm\ figures Ithat walked round on a mechanical j contrivance". .'.-.■ i "I hear they're quite lovely," said Daisy '"They have comee from , Vienna. Do let us go see them." 1 "But, look here," said Tony, help- ' lessly, "I don't want to go and look at womene's clothes- " Still, the.' idea, amused him, and tho mention .f I /ienna had given lum a little thrill , He thought of Miss Leitner m a bhok ! I dress, probably having a frugal moil' , somewhere—not a dainty, expensive ,one._ like this at Prince's—with the 1 violin in its case beside her. He w on.dered what she was doing, and wheie on earth she fiddled. I They walked to the place paid their sinlling each—that i S) Tony paid i + I for them—went down a dim passage 1 and through heavy velvet curta ns mtn "a large, artificially lighted room, and 1 stood leaning against a barrier Beyond the barrier there was a painted scene —a garden at one end, with j rustic seats and a summer house. At 1 the other, through the frame-work of a 1 French window, there was a salon, ' , elegantly furnished and lighted; up ,and down and round about, by means of a mechanical contrivance, walked dummy figures, dressed m the latest Viennese lashion—they wero wooden but extremely elegant, from the toes of their little shoes to the top of their 1 elaborately dressed heads or their mar- | .vellous hats—"fluffy and fnlly and .flouncy, ' said Tony, who knew someithing about, dress, and thought his rather clever. The room iwas famtlv -perfumed to give the illusion of a flower garden, and at the farther end, frrom a little bower, I came music—a piano and violin The pianist, who was in black and bad 1 coils of fair hair, was' seated, her back I towards the audience; beside the piano 'stood a slight, tall figure in a black dress,vwith a grave, pale face and two dark eyes that met Tony's imploringly when he looked round. [ "Well"—he tried to look as if he hadn t recognised her. "Awfully I good, aren't they?" he said, recover-, ung.in a moment, and turning toTiolet' \and Daisy. ' . • • They -wondered why le had become • ,so absent-minded and whv he didn't (propose to do something else, instead of taking them for a rather tame little I drive - along the Embankment, and ! through the park to see the scaffolding .round the growing memorial of Oueen Victoria, and back to I Grosvenor Gardens. *" j Then he went home to St. James's Street and listened. He • had noticed a placard at the, exhibition saying that it was open from eleven s to five. If she came straight back, he would hear her at, say, a ouarter past. >,He heard her t key nut softly in tho street door— f . Tony's r ears had grown very .acute. He . . met?her on the stairs: he wanted toreassure her. Poor-' little- thing, she I fhad had a bad time somehow, be was I sur,e' of it. t J ;, ' * I I - T^ e .invaluable Sikei had - get out |ftea. a wrfh-a diW-of 1 strawberries"a eake" twith walnuts r o'n -the ton;' and _a little I vase" of flQwenOj-Sb,e~-had" i ✓ mapy times w him -lately. ' Wlien-;it " ,"wos c orer sheL alwaysViqpk the""roses sfthey were genera]ljs; v * the ivasa,- a»"BhV;wa» jrieaat~tofdo"''faised^ - -., ~ ?; c-., 4 •«. v-., *■• ~- -«-" v -

,:them, to her lips, dreamily said "Au revoir,"' or "It was beautiful!" and gave him one of her wonderful smiles ■while he held the door open for her, _and departed with the air" of one who has conferred a favour. But to-day she looked limp, different, a little ashamed. "Come along," he said, reassuringly. He took her hand and drew her into the room very gently; he put : an arm round her shoulders in a'.man--1 ner that , couldn't give offence—only . *s..if -lie-thought she required support ' —and led her to an armchair. on the hearthrug. "Now we'll have tea and be comfy," he said. .' "What did you think?" she asked, and looked up at him with wide-open eyes. , I "I think you're splendid." "But to play for wooden figures, and ,for silly people who come to look 'at | them?".. ! "It's all right. They're not all .silly, you know. I was there." xt.'' i' no; you are not siUv - I never thought to see you there." "Well—l had some awfully nice girls with me." She nodded. "The one with brown hair looked charming. Were they your sisters?" "No; cousins—countrv, vou know | going back to it in a dav "or two. I I thought' you'd rather I didn't reeoginiSß you," he added, anxious that she j should not think her employment was an" embarrassment to him. ,-" 011 - n6 l besides, it would not be allowed. I should be dismissed." I "That's all right, then," he said, in his-airy/little fashion. "And now you shall have some strawberries"; he picked out the big ones for her. "How long is it going on, this thing?" he asked. "Only till next week." "What becomes of it then?" ' "It will close for a little. Next winter it is going to Nice—with fresh dresses, of course. I am to meet Otto bchlenter there the week after nest to arrange for the different places we will visit" There was a curious intonation in her voice, he wondeied vaguely what it mei=i _ "Who's Otto—what do you call 1 "He is one of, the—of the—l don't know what vou sty in Enn-li'h—one of the micntnrs of the beautiful di esses " "Dicssmaker man." irm" she laughed j He will be fiee the week after ne-rt " "What's lie doing now?" I sliT-vL-crcd hei shoulders a little s->dlv. "I don't kn->w But ho and the r-ropr t-tor of the oxlnb tion will La at \,c Hie week after next, and I must jro." "Oh!—and then ■ T. shall' never see \ou anv late -T-1 fp]t rf hut at the back of his head he In»n it was -nst as well He v as formated by hoi loved her—nit ard=ntlv, it wasn't his iva-, but lo didn't innl to tret -nv\ed n It; taps rclh a cood thing she was o-onn- St 11 thori was no iea<r>n tha\ si nvldVt rake the best of Hie time th it wis left r "I shill never see you any more"" he reneat^d ' anv more " sbo stc! He 1 coiild haie sworn tint she onh kept ■ back tens v ith difficult*-—anyhow I tliev w oi p in her voice ! ""Vi ell " he '-iid \fter a nausp, in ( t hich he looked bp"om'np.ly crave, 1 "wo must hnve a 'beano' or two bei fore vou gr '' She knew what beano meant now. "Oh, yes," she said switb animation "But I ] ato to , tbmk of going awa\" —and a flash came into her eyes tint bo hud not snen there bei fore IT3 thought it bc-or-ung, it 1 made him lerklass —be lifted the slider hind on the tca-trav md kissed it Her little finger and thumb j 1 were stained with strjT.hprrr mice Sl>e drew it aw nv, but not too quickh. | I "Oh no—'t mrcn't bp 10'" 1 «-hc looked named brt not . ngry —mt ' pt all—he felt that she rather liked 1 ir, but dtd not want him to know ' it - 1 "Look hero," ha wen 1 on, impulsivelv "when you go to Nice, suppose I take you " | Slip lonkod honibly alarmed for a | moment " ■'•d he saw it. "You mean you will too?" "Mont a Carlo is open all the year round; I would take a rim there, and just drop you at Nice on my way." "Od the way?" "Teh minutes farther, on." "Ah, yes," she said "then you could droo mt They must not see jou " "All right When do we htait?" I "I must be at Nice on Thursday ' | week, in the; morning," she' answered. ! "1 will arnvo the night before, T think i If wo start—you and I—on Tuesday i I morning we shall be in Pans in ii # ' for dinner." It was wonderful how she knew the details ol tho journey I 1 "And the ne\t day wo will go on to Maiseilles " | '"Lhe next day " He stared at her j i 'I love Pans —we saust have one evening there—but we will not stay at the same hotel " she added quickly, I "that would not do " 1 "All right, we'll have a little 'beano' there." But his' tone was not quite so enthusiastic, ho was mizzled, disanpomted agai-ist his will, though he w as fascinated After all, Tonj ,\ as only a man, and she as charming, she flat- I .i man, and she w as charming, she flatto resist —and anyhow, something had happened to him He sab by the empty fireplace for half au hom after she had gone upstairs, and thought it over "I'm in for it," he told himself, "but all the same, I don't want to marry hei. It wouldn't do Don't I expect she'd have me, but it wouldn't do anyhow," It that half hour en- J I chantment of her somehow lessened, ' The journey would be a lark, „ he ' thought, but it would be as well whe'i' it came to an end and the whole thing done with "And I'm not going to' stay in Paris," he said with determma- i tion, "it wouldn't do We'll go right on as hard as we can " I ) He broke jt to her on board fjie boat "Look here, my dear," he said/' allmost tenderly, "it's a censorious world, I've been thinking we'd much better not stay m Paris. If anyone saw us they might say all sorts o'f i things," I j She nodded, "That is true " I He liked the way in wh ch ways agreed with him; it gave him a, pense or wisdom that he felt he didn't ' poscess at present, but might achitve in"the' future, "In fact," he went on gathenng, courage as he spoke, "I've ■ taken a sleeper for you m the ladies' I I carnage in the "Rapide ' It gets to Marseille* early in the morning. We'll dine m Pans, though, if we know it." | i "You are quite right," she answered. "It might be dangerous 'if W6 .stopped" she looked at him/ Her manner had been different the last day oi two; it was almost strange now | He wondered > what the deuce it j meant, i Suddenly she took out a little brooch ' and turned back'the collar of her dress. ' "You arp very nice," she said. '<f I mil always remembclr you Look!'' She pulled up, from its place of concealment, a little gold chain he had given her with a turquoise ljart, that -had a diamond middle, suspended from it, "When I wear it I shall ( think of you—and of days that J hadl I Very happy>shours,ia %hem." He long--ed'"to t kiss her, but it was , impossible.IPerhaps.it "Was as well. *■" Thpy had bxcellenfr dinner la . Parts—Tony knew Jfis w\ay about 'and an hovr '.after i% -they were flying ' -Bouthwards-.They had agreed to ..break*! fa'st and droye f r nn _tp' v "Sfqtre-Dame de la oidnsr *the eannebiere-"to the Quai do Jolistie. -"f hv the afternoon tram ;t»sNiqe; but it was wonderfuli howit she - ft shrlnl:

from it —to shrink and yet to be eager. •'Marseilles is so good." she said, looking up- at him—"and it's our last holiday. Don't let us end it too soon. We'shall never, never meet again." "Oh, yes, we will—somehow," hfe apswered; but he felt that they probably never would. lunched and lingered over their coffee and looked at each .other, and smiled in each other's faces; but they were in a curious state of tension and each felt it regarding the other. ■They went on by the afternoon express. Ihey had a carriage to themselves, lony looked at her as ths guard shut the door, and ho knew it would not be opened again until they reached Ton--I°*iV ' ? e bought sne Ivas going to talk, but she folded heir hands one over the other, nestled- up in her. corner, and said: "I want to think. We will not speak until we have stopped once more." "All right," he answered. "Curious creature," he thought. He wondered what |she was thinking about, and wished she wouldn't sit there looking out of the window: it made him feel rather at a loose end. He tried to he interested in the scenery, but it didn't come,off very well, and to read the Matin which he had bought at one of the bookstalls, .but he had never cared for French papers—couldn't read them easily enough. T-t was half-past five when they reached Toulon, and then, unfortunately, two people got in. Tony felt as it the whole thing were disap minting. He sat opposite to her and made aimless and amiable little remarks, but it was not at all the sort of thing he had imagined. He had been longing to nnd out what she would say, what she would do, m their last time together —and nothing had happened. She sat there "thinking in silence for half the journey, and now, of course, anything else was impossible. " "Bad luck—downright bad luck!" he said to himself. _ The two people got out at Cannes, they were alone hi the' carriage once more and he breathed freely. "Threequarters of an hour and. we'-shall be. at M ? e ,\ he said. He went over to -her .-quickly the moment they-were in moagain. --Ho took her hand. He irelt that lie must make the most of the time that was left; besides some genuine feeling vias talcing-possession- of him;' 'They, had'had such, good hours together; -she ' had been so charming. He remembered ths tones of her violin the first-time he had heard her play He looked up-at the case containing'it in the rack over his head. He' thought" of ,.™ broken and the blue-ana. white Worcester' bowl. "He felt convinced it was safelv packed in the box tint had manv nails in it nnd was in the lusrgage van. R D thought of the liieht thc-v had gone to the theatre for the W time, -ml how he h id bought her the cloak with the red hood, and -ho had held out her little grubby gloves and asked for roo IP With a sudden impulse lie stoonod and ln=sed the hands, wlvoh were lying in her lap or rather, ho kissed the ri-dit one which was baie She locked at him when he raised his head and with a strange almost wnji smile, took the gJov 0 off nnd held out the left hand ' +? I? There was a wedding ring on tlio third fingei His heart gave a grent thump Perhaps she had been more to him thin she imagined. ' Man ltd 0 " he said. ' Ve«, I'm mained " "Oil—-what does it moan " H" tr.cd to tpko it cahnlv "Whoze has he been all this time 5 " ' Tie has been in prison." That was cheering, he thought "He nearly killed someone"—and hei e%es fbshed—"because h e was jealous Icmv began to feci uncomr rl.iijle "It is too mtneate to tell you." "Is he an Austrian*" Tony asked just to g.im time. She stood up with her back In the t.Vi " Yrs !le 1S Allst ri<ni Hs is tad, he is handsome ' \. flush eame to hei face; »he looked beautiful '"I adcied him, bdt hj« wis unjist " "On"' Tony felt tint he iw retiring into the background. What does he do?" ' He invented two of the dresses in that exhibition—the vollow one m the corner, and tho gicen one with the violets, the mo*t beautiful of all." _ "Man diessmakerP' Tony said trying to bo quite natural. She n'dded her head proudly, as if he had been a general m tho arnry at least "ne is Otto Schlenter. He was coming to England too, but he w.is 10 ilous. was a quarrel—l needn't tell you how it was—but he wounded someone verv badlv, and went to prison. He has been " there for months— my poor Otto. That is why I was sj unhappy " "Indeed," said Tony, looking over his pince-nez in a curious manner. "You got ovei it, you know. Why did you come to England?" "I had no money. The firm that sent the dresses over offered m e employment, to play the violin, and to watch for them the numbers that came. ' rhrv J.d not wholly trust the man who took it to England." "And why did you call yourself Miss Leitner and—take off your ung, if you were married?" "Because I have been told that if you are a woman, and in public at all, vou should always be young and never be mamed; and I did not want anyone to know I was Madame Schlenter, for in Vienna they talked so much. I wanted to hide—to be out of the way for a time. Vou "re not/angry ?" She held out her hands. "Oh, no—not at all." "You've been so good. I can't think whit I should have done but. for you. Her voice was quite pathetic, it prevented him from feeling that she had meant anything he could resent, or that was unfair. h^P 1 * I *'* all "Sb-V te answered." What do you suppose. Herr Schlenter will say to me ? I don't particularly want to be wounded, even if he goes to prison for it " "He wo'i't know anything about you. I shall never tell him. I wouldn't for the whole world." She looked flightened. "It is always a great mistake to tell too many things about yourself." "Oh' Talk of the wisdom of the serpent " said Tony, beginning to take another view of the adventure "And no one will ever tell him. He doesn't know anyone in England except Mr H«ger, and I told him. that he must not." "You are a very far-seeing young woman." "You're pot angry?" she asked. ' Oh, say Ifcbat you're not angrv. You've been so good, so dear. I will tell you what/' she said, ibpulsiveily, "once —j"ust once, yon shall kiss me." He stooped and did. There wasn't much m it though—not what there might have been; the heart was taken out of it, * The" train was slackening to get into Nice station. "I »ay," he said, "are yon good friends again, in spite of the —the row?" ' t "Oh, ves. He has forgiven me —and I love him. Every woman loves a man who nearly kills another for her," she said, rapturously. ■, "She may be afraid —but it is splendid. She lores him'." y •• ' /'Pleasant," thought Tony. "Will lie be here to * meet you?" he asked. She nodded with- happy confidence. "He came out of prison' three days ago Ho at the station." "TJiope he won't ,haye a knife about Mm." . lanehed. ?nd thowrht it -a joke, , though, /Pony* 'didn't. "You, must sit down in. that corner and Tvretend,that*vou~dd not know me—that yoTare ni'lte n stranger.; Perkins you wji'll §jee hjro jjefprp/vnn go on."

valour, so he took up his paper and eat down as the train stopped. ■' She put her head out of the window and looked anxiously up and down the platform. Suddenly she clapped her hands. ''Otto, Otto, I'm here. See barolen! She ran along the corridor of the carriage; she wao on the piatform in a moment. Tony, looking out saw her in the arms'bf a tall, rather fat man, with a dark moustacho who was not at all handsome, and who looked distinctly bad-tempered He was dressed like a fop. Tony curled up inside and said "dressmaker" to himself.

They came to the window of the carnage. She looked at Tony demurely "Monsieur, will you hare the kindness? she said, pointing to the bag and the violin, which was still on the hat-rack. Tony handed them with the air of a courteous stranger. The husband took them without a word of thanks, and turned his back. She kisspathetic—for the last time. He was glad they did that. Then she followed tn© rat man out.

on to Monte Carlo. "That's a mm go-and I donlt think I got much of a share out of it."-(Nash's Magazine.)