LADIES' COLUMN.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7267, 30 November 1901, Page 3

LADIES' COLUMN.

" QUITS!"

(Sparc Moments.)

CHAPTER I.

Women — cynics have said — are certainly better than men, but that is only by reason of the force of circumstances. Their opportunities are more fettered — that is all. Morals owe much to reason. Reason being lacking in women, a woman of ordinarily blameless life can reconcile some very queer things to her conscience. Of which fact this story is instance. ." My Dear Girl, — I received your letter of Wednesday last all right. You liad addressed it to my chambers, but the caretaker sent it on here as I had left my address. You seem to have been in the reverse of an amiable mood when it was written, and also in what I hope you will excuse my calling a distinctly unreasonable one. You complain of the coldness of my letters lately. I write as I feel, as you have been doing. Woman, it has been said, is a creature of moods, and man could be included in the definition with perfect safety. It is the most difficult thing in the world, my dear, to simulate a warmth of feeling one no longer possesses, for I may as well confess the truth to you. 'I do not love you as a man ought to love the woman he intends to make his wife. In the glamour of a moment I am afraid I mistook what was but ardent admiration for genuine passion, and asked you to marry me. I realise now what a mistake I made, and beg' you to, release me. I hope you will spare me any reproaches, for I write in your interests as well as my own. You must understand that a loveless marriage would be a far worse mistake, besides being an irretrievable one. ; "If you should wish to write me, address the letter to my chambers, as usual, for I am .returning to London to-morrow. — Believe me; ever yours most sincerely, Edgar Stone." The above letter had been received with a smile and a faint, blush, for there was a quizzical look in the eyes of Mr Horton as he handed it across the breakfast table. The recipient was his niece, a tall, handsome girl, with wonderful eyes and a proud clever face. She reat. the. letter through, in spite of its fjefined brutality, without flinching an eyelash, or any exhibition of emotion except that the warm rich tints ol her cheeks paled somewhat. When she had finished she folded it up carefully, replaced it in the envelope, and went on with her breakfast. iNo one looking at her calm face would have dreamt of the passionate anger, and scorn, and humiliation raging within her. It was easy enough to read wi&in tie lines. Surely he did nob take her to be fool enough, to accept the reason- he had offered her. Love forsooth ! Her father's failure was the only reason for this discovery that his love had been but a passionate admiration. He could love fhe heiress, but he drew the line at the journalist, though none had admired her literary talents more than he — whilst she was independent of them! If only she could retaliate, could make him feel a tithe of what she was feeling at the moment ! But tie one way that presented itself was out of the question. She . could i»ot figure as the heroine in a breach of promise suit, even though she could have made him the laughing-stock of his circle. For he had been a sentimental lover, with a decided turn/ for versification. No, it would be too profound a humiliation for her, though, goodness knows, he deserved it. And she had once fancied, she had. loved him ! There was no love- left in her heart now — the feet of clay * were too' obvious — only a bitter scorn and a longing for re,venge, the savage intensity of which startled her.