TWO EYES OF GREY.

Timaru Herald, Volume CIV, Issue 15961, 13 May 1916, Page 4

TWO EYES OF GREY.

(BY MRS. A. J. PHILLIPS.) "So we meet again, after all." The words ivero spoken by a tall, i-lciui-shavcn man, with good-looking features aud keen dark eyes. Ho stood before a slender, grey-robed girl, whose exquisite face was somewhat pale, and whose big dark grey eyes wero black with shadows. "So ib seems." she answered with a charming smile, " and 1 am very glad, because, if my memory does not play mo false, you expressed the wish, most emphatically spoken, nover to see me again. However" "indifferently — "probably yon haro forgotten that." Ho laughed. and shrugged his shoulders. " On the contrary, I have forgotten nothing," ho answered with a slow smile. "Do you hold one responsible for things said in anger?" Ho spoke lightly, but his keen eyes watched her intently. "If I am not mistaken, you also expressed the same cordial hope, a nd with somewhat of the same emphasis." She laughed, and met his eyes unflinchingly. "I think not." she answered gaily, " well, not exactly—l think. I hope ivo should never bo again, in the same capacity." •' All, that was it, I sue," replied he thoughtfully. '' But I have no fears upon that score," the pretty girl added carelessly. He looked at her with smouldering eyes. u We 6ay many things when we are angry," ho began, his deep voice rather harsh. "And mean the reverse of some," she interrupted scoffingly, her turn now to shrug her shapely shoulders; " at least-, I hope so. We said feome lather dreadful things upon that last memorable occasion—or, to bo strictly correct, you did." Her sweet mouth smiled cynically as again she turned her head away, her heart seared as with a hot iron by the sight of her former fiancee, whose face and figure she had tried in -vain to forget. Ho made a step towards her. "I had cause- " ho began, when she broke in with rather breathless laughter and a flash in h'er grey eyes. "Pray spare me." she cried merrily; "have a little pity upon me. Surely it is not necessary for us to take a stroll into the past. If you wish to do so, my dear Paul, you must go alone. I refuse to accompany you. Tho silly, foolish affair of two- years ago is best left where it is. When wo parted, after such brilliant mastery of the English language displayed upon l your part, and with a special exhibition of fireworks thrown in, I firmly made up my mind to forget all about that absurd engagement of ours." "You seem to have found it easy," he said, his keen eyes giving the lie to his bored voice. She raised her eyebrows smilingly. "Oh, yes." Ah, how littl© lie dreamt of tiie fierce pain behind the laughter as she thought of the dreary, sleepless nights and the weary days that had followed their broken engagement. "lou gee," she added lightly, "I have much, one way and another, to occupy my mind. My days are very well filled." "And I was but a. mere incident in your life," ho remarked quietly. '' Bather a stormy one, don't. you think ?" she said' teasingly. "But away with the past, we have don't} with that. TV hat have you been doing with yourself? You look well and very brown. Have you been travelling? Your appe;iranco says so." " Yes, the world over," he answered in a. tired voice, and he smiled cynically as ho thought liow hopeless had been his efforts to forget this girl with the lovely face, and tho starlike eyes of grey. A tall young fellow came up and claimed her for the next dance, and with a. little graceful bend of her Iread she left him to enjoy the sweetsmelling conservatory by himself. He watched her go with a sharp sigh, turned and sought a. dark corner wlier© he could remain unseen. Suppose he had made an awful mistake two years ago? Suppose he was wrong in his condemnation of her? The thought was intolerable. Again the scone came before his moody eyes. Ho remembered it all so well. The big dark house rose up before his gaze, and again he was walking past tho gates as he had done that eventful evening when he. had seen the short ladder against tho window where his dear love Elaine slept. The horror of that moment ca.mo back to him now. Tho ladder was too short to reach the, window, and the man who had stood upon the top rung had not attempted to get any higher, but stood talking to her as she leant out of the window, looking very • sweet) in some lacy sort of garment. It was when he had seen the 'man raise his faco to meet tho kiss from hor lips that lie had lost his head, and tho next day Ik; had sought .Elaine, and had said things that afterwards ho did not care to think of. Even now a fearful rage seized him when bethought of it all. Deny it as she might. Ire could not but believe his own eyesight, and that hud shown him very plainly the features of his future wife. It had not been a small thing that had separated Elaine Manners and Pa.ul Trevor. Their engagement had given great satisfaction to all their relatives and friends, for both were wealthy and of good birth. Ho was tire possessor of considerable estates and a big income, and she was the only child of wealthy Sir John Manners, whose only real male friend through life, had been Paul Trevor':; father. Therefore- when the breach, came it caused intense surprise and disappointment. Much comment, was indulged in, but tho reason for it remained a mystery, so far as society was concerned.* Paul's accusation had not been a light one, and Elaine, amazed and indignant, had wholly-denied it, and had at once broken off her engagement. Sharp and bitter words had followed, and Paul bad flung himself out of her room and her life, and had fried to find forgets fulness abroad. Now, alter the lapse of two years,

they mot again Elaine had evinced no desire to be present at her aunt's small and select dance; she had merely come because her father bad begged her to do so. Plump Lady Hardman was very fond of her charming niece, and she made no secret of tho hop© that she would accept her son Roger. Indeed, it was generally believed that some sort of understanding existed between the two, despite the fact that Elaine had steadily refused Roger's repeated proposals. At the sight of her former lover, Elaine had turned deadly faint, but, had fought and conquered the dreadful feeling, and had greeted Paul quite calmly, though she was somewhat pale. Paul Trevor had come to pass the time away. Ho disliked dancing of late, and had contented himself by wat-ching the couples as they glided past him. He wished savagely that he had never come at all, for the sight of Elaine had filled him with passionate pain, and had shown hiiii she was dearer to him than over. The sound of voices roused him, and, peer.ing through tho branches of a, tall plant, ho saw that two ladies -had seated themselves not far from him, evidently intending to have a. good gossip. Paul frowned and wished them far enough, then resigned himself to the inevitable, hoping ho would not bo kept a prisoner long. "So the engagement is a fact, is it ?" asked one of the ladies. "Oh yes, I had it from Mrs. Brookes, and she ought to know," replied tire other. "Sho is a. very fortunate girl." ''She will make a sweet bride. Is it to be soon ?'' "Immediately, I believe. After all, there is nothing for Elaine to wait for, and Roger is very impatient to claim his bride. I believe Sir John is very pleased." They talked a good deal jnoro, but. Paul heard nothing further. His mindwas a bruised blank for a time, and lie could not think properly. Ho felt painfully conscious that life was a. very terrible thing, and he wished himself; out of it. That Elaine could be thought of as another man's wife was' horrible, and he almos-t groaned aloud. To his relief tho ladies moved away, and Paul came out of his corner, to meet Elaine returning with her partner, who had to leave her immediately. Paul asked her for the next dance. She refused quietly, but with decided emphasis. "I am not engaged for it," sho said, "but I would rather rest." "I suppose I can congratulate you upon your engagement?" said "lie harshly. " I have just heard of it." She raised startled eyes. " You must have heard a rumour, and rumour is always premature.. It is not settled yet." "I suppose Roger Herdman is the lucky man ?" "And why not? Have you anything against him ?" "No" —hastily—''ho is a good fellow, but not your sort surely." " Really, you are interesting," camo the sweet, mocking voice. "I suppose you think you are a fair judge of my likes and dislikes? But you aro wrong. Roger appeals strongly to me because he has absolute faith in me, and would never question my actions.' He is a chivalrous gentleman, and would never impute evil where none existed." Paul winced and bit liis lip angrily, but Elaine looted at the people in the distance with a calmness she was far from feeling, and wished the lovely music would cease, for it- seemed. . to tear at her very heart-strings. A fierce despair seized him; he longed to fling liimself at her feet and beg hor to take him back again, but his jealousy was still rampant, and the doubt in his heart remained. He stifled his wild feelings and forced himself to say: " May I have tho pleasure of taking' you to the supper room ?" She, accepted his offer, and as they walked away together many curious glances followed them. He secured a sheltered little comer away from inquisitive eyes, and waited upon her. She talked lightly and laughingly, and her chatter was nothing in particular. Suddenly he bent forward and said huskily: " We are friends still, I hope ?" " Surely," she answered, and the indifference in her voice cut him like a knife. "Is it possible for those who have, been lovers to be friends?" ho asked' curtly. She Ignored his question and plunged again- into gay, light-hearted talk. Presently she rose, and together they strolled through the now almost empty ball-room. She talked easily to him, but he only answered her in monosyllables. How was he to know that the misery which was eating into his heart was well-nigh breaking hers ? A rush of soft, silken garments made Elaine turn round. "Here comes Marie," she said. "Do you remember her?" He turned. "Yes, now you say who it is. I don't think I should have done so unless. Who is lier companion ?" " Surely you recognise Jim Earringdon ? But he has altered his way of hair-dressing to suit his lady love,*and I must say it lias made him look quite another man. He and Marie aro engaged." "AVhat!" came his surprised voice. "Little Marie and Jim engaged! He is a- good deal older than she, is he not ?" "Yes, a good ten years, but they seem very happy, so I don't think itwill make any difference." He looked at her keenly, for he had felt bitterly towards Earringdon, since ho had recognised him as the man oil tho ladder on that memorable night. "I hope they will be happy," he said, slowly. " I. am sure they will be," came the sweet, indifferent voice. "They have cared for one, another for a. long time, but father would not allow any engagement between them on account of Marie's youth However, he lias relented, and t-liev are to be married next month. I think he- is very wise, for Jim is a dear, good fellow, and father will be relieved of his guardianship." The sound of a laughing voice arrested their steps, and a- pretty young girl advanced towards them with a tall, thin man in attendance. "Yes, it is lam right, Jim; it is Paul," cried Marie- delightedly. "I. am so glad to see you, Paul." She held out a shy hand, smiling up at- him. ''Good gracious! Marie, is it van. Why, you are a lady growed, to be sure. Where are your short skirts and your pigtail ?" "Gone," laughed Mario. "I'm a flapper no longer, but a sedate, and proper young lady. Isn't that- true. Jim?" Jim and Paul had given each other rather a cool greeting, for Jim could not forget Paul's very extraordinary treatment of him two years ago. Ji'e laughed' and pulled Mario's curls. "I suppose that is correct," replied Paul, mischievously, " though I won't answer for you being very proper. And what do you mean by becoming engaged, a slip of a. girl like you?" "Oh, Jim is to blame, not I,"' replied Marie, looking at her fiancee with adoring eyes. "I think it is a bit risky for him., but he seems willing to take me for hotter, for worse." " By Jove « yes," answered her lover enthusiastically. ''Why, l'vi». waited for you for years, little girl. It seemed a- long time before you put your hair up and came out. She put her hair up once about iwo years ago, just- for fun, and, by .love, she looked the image of > on, Elaine." •You are telling <ale>, .lim." protested Marie laughingly. ''Oh. Pa.ul. we were so im uglily—bu I: J. am not going to fell you."

I demand to know," said Paul, hiding under a smiling exterior the sudden anxiety that had beset him to hear all about this adventure. " 'Pon my honour, I'll never tell a i word to any one." .His indolent manner had vanished, and-ho looked very much awake. Mario hesitated, then burst out laughing. "Elaine will be dreadfully shocked, I know," sire said naughtily. "She' is such a prude.. But it was not very naughty. It happened about two years ago. Elaine had gone to bod early, and undo was away. Jim liad been to a ball, and just- for fun I dressed up in Elaine's things and put up my hair ill the way she does it, and as I know tho time when Jim would pass I waited up to see him, leaning out. of the window to do so." A startled expression broke over Elaine's lovely features, and after giving a swift look at Paul's face, she averted her head. " Oh, it was fun !" went on the girl artlessly. "At first Jim thought I was Elaine, and I really looked very like hor, hut 1. called softly to him, and we had a lovely talk." . - " We bad more than that," chuckled •Tim. " I punished her for her deceit by putting a painter's ladder up against tho window .and claiming a kiss from her. I could only just manage it, for the blamed thing was too short." "You shouldn't have told that," said Marie severely. ''lt was very shocking and improper of you. However, I've forgiven you for that, though I wouldn't speak to him for a week, Paul. I think he deserved his punishment, don't you ?" "I do indeed." replied Paid in a strained voice. I Jim gazed adoringly at his little i beloved, then slipped his arm in hers I and walked licr away. I A dead silence followed between Paul j and Elaine, which was broken by Paul. ! His pale, clever-looking face was deadly white as he said: "I must speak to you, Elaine; I have done you a dreadful wrong. Grant me a few minutes with you in the fernery." She bent lier head coldly, and lie foil-owed lier into tho dim and warmly fragrant retreat. He closed tho door and advanced to her with hands outstretched, but she stood coldly aloof. "Elaine,"..lie cried hoarsely, '"'pity me.. If you could but know my sufferings you would forgive me." She laughed scornfully, and her grey eyes flashed. ''You!" she cried bitingly. "Oh, men always think of themselves. What about me, and the shameful injustice to me? The terrible want of faith in rue? Did I not beg and implore you to believe me ?" 'Elaine, dearest," cried Paul almost frantically, '"grant mo a little mercy." "You granted me none," answered the_ girl curtly; "but that is nothing, is it? Tho same law does not apply to a woman. You left me in a fit of righteous indignation, and I had to | face the music hero, the surprised comments, the hateful questions. I had j to appear careless and happy while the knowledge of your cruel treatment ate day by day into my vitality and made life a, mockery and a sham."- '' Ihe suffering was not all on. your side," said Paul.-■ beseechingly. .""I went down to the gates of Jiell in South Africa ; I liunted death only , to find game and live.. I went purposely through poisonous swamps, only to come out scathless." "Your pain was nothing to mine. The mute appeal in my father's eyes ■was more- scorching than any African sun. You talk of suffering—good heavens !"—slie laughed -mirthlessly— I "you, the supposed injured party. You forget that while you fought with your fancied wrongs, I writhed and shrank under the awful injustice of your accusation, knowing myself absolutely innocent. .What is harder to bear than punishment for an act never committed? Suffering is a woman's heritage, and I liavo bad my fill of it these last two- years. I think the iron of it has entered into my soul and completely changed my nature." "Don't say that, Elaine," cried Paul sharply. "For heaven's sake forgive mo. I will spend my whole life in showing you my penitence. Forgive me, my sweet, and let me try to make up to you for all you have suffered." Her eyes swept his face with an unmoved glance, as she said calmly: " It is too late" " What do you mean ?' J lie cried hoarsely. "I no longer love you," came the sweet, cold voice in reply. "Night after night I cried myself to sleep after you had gone, and danced and laughed through the hollow days, wishing each one would be the last, but I survived until a numbness stole over my heart and froze my feelings, and now"—she looked in front of her with hopeless eyes while Paul's face grew grey with pain—"now I don't care." A leaden hand seemed to press upon Paul's heart. Ho had killed her love for him, he thought fiercely—such a tender thrusting love —killed it as surely as though he had plunged a dagger through hor heart. : How sweet and desirable she looked in her shining, silken robe. "Have pitv upon mo, my love, my dearest," he whispered passionately: "the world is dead to me without you." But she answered him never a word. Ho waited some minutes, then he said i courteously, and in a. low, shaken i voice: J "So be it, Elaine. T. will go. out of your life, since you wish it. I deserve !no mercy, since I gave you none. But men arc more exacting than women. Good-bye, dear love. I shall never look upon your faco again, for I shall leave England at once.'' He paused, hoping she would speak, but, as no word came from between her pale lips, he spoke again: "God be with you. my lost love, and give, you happiness !" He- bent tall figure and pressed lips that quivered' with suppressed emotion upon her hand, then straightened himself and turned to leave h'er. 1 he .sound of his retreating steps roused Elaine. She stared after him, and as she saw him going out of her life for ever it seemed as though an icy band round her heart snapped asunder. '■ Paul, Paul she cried, and ran quickly towards the door. He wheeled round sharply, and stared in amazemnt at the figure flying towards him. .She came to a standstill beside him, and held out her pretty whito hands imnloringly. \\ hat- have. I said to you, dearest?" she asked, a bewildered look on her face. "Have I actually sent you away from me? Ol), Paul, what must you think of mc? I forgive you, dear* love, for after all There was some 'excuse for your mistake. Paul, dear Paul, take mo in your arms a.gain."' Ife strode towards her, and with a sharp sob caught her to his breast,. Elaine, Elaine," he whispered, chokingly. 'T was afraid I bad lost you. Xow we can take up life again together." She raised lovely, radian't eyes to his, free now from all shadows, and answerer in a voice from which sorrow had gone: "Conic, and tell father, for he has been heartsick and wca-ry because of our estrangement. Come and let us make, him smile again." [The End.]