For Honour's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 7968, 20 February 1906, Page 2

For Honour's Sake.

CHAPTER XXVlll.—Continued. ' "Bah! you give me lodging, food and clothing. Am 1 not worth it all? . You want to get ou in society; did people abroad, do people here, come to your salon for your sake? You hare taken mo round Europe on show, to win a neb bug' band, for your benefit, not mine, i have declined the husbands who offered themselves; but am still more than worth all you I am goods and chattels to you—something to trade with. If a rich man •were to offer me something less than bis name you would not care, morally, so long as he paid yon a good ronud sum for ine. Socially you would object now, because you are in dooiety*. You see, I quite understand my obligations to my kind guardians. If you think .it worth while to close your doors upon me, you can do so." There was no outward passion in the manner in which Claude uttered these scathing words; her tone and mein expressed rather a measureless •cuntempt. But Stewart would have, known that underlying • that contempt waq bitterness of passion—that her sensitive soul was quivering ■under the lash. Onoe more, in course and palpable form, which could not be evaded or blurred among generalities, it was forced upon her what her mission in .'life was hold to be by these people, (her guardians—a thing, a marketable commodity to be traded to the highest bidder, or form ao attraction for the salon, or sacrificed without an instant's compunction to save the oredit of a woman who was in truth . an impostor; sacrificed to p coarse .profligate, himself vile enough to .enter into the horrible bargain to whioh Julia had confessed. Oh, the shame and degiadation of it all! But Julia had not expeoted success, and she knew that Claude would act up to her word, and her flight would not only derive the Daveoant residence of her valuable 'presence, but would otherwise irretrievably damage it by the scandal 'caused. Mrs Davenaut was, as has been •said, a clever woman; .she knew how 1 to retire from the field gracefully. She could not hide from Ciaude that she was routed; but she could preserve soino outward credit. After all, too, there was still that other alternative. She rose to her feet. "I am not ooncorned to answer such a speech, Claude," she said. "It is ungrateful and untrue. However, I clearly understand that we must not look to .you to save our name and! position. I suppose we shall have to go abroad again." "Perhaps," Claude said, indifferently moving from her position and turning to the window again; but when Julia had left, the room she •oovered her face. ' "Ob, if 1 could only esoape from all this. And yet while lam here I ■can see him. I cannot go abroad to be banished, and he—needs me. He must not know of this; I must keep it from him." She lifted her head, and paused in perplexity, sweeping her hand over her eyes. "He said," she thought, "there should be no secrets between'us;/he trusts me to tell him everything." There she stopped; th i colour •crept over her face; she hid it in her band again. It would be cruel to tell him this, and he so helpless to protect her! But was there not another thought springing out of this last—a vague, undefined fear that that knowledge of his helplessness might be a temptation to # Captain ■Stewart? "Claude was not an ingenue.' She iknew the peril of such relations as hera with Esric Stewart, and though the temptation would pass, it would leave behind it the pain of bitter remorse, the keen suffering of failure, where failure should have been impossible. No; she would be silent concerning what had passed to-day' -between her and Julia Davenant. CHAPTER XXIIX. "OH, DARLING! SHALL YOU AND 1 EVER EARw THE RE- 1 WARD OP SUFFERING?" Claude went to the four-in-hand meet with Maida Westmore, and saw Pauline, .radiently lovely, the observed of all observers, oh Lord Shelstone's coach. She felt sure also, that Pauline saw her, but pretended not to do so. The latter would have liked, had she dared, to give the girl the dead cut, the more as Claude was being very much ooticed, and certainly looked beautiful enough to turn any man's head ; but Paliune knew very well the result of such an act, and so simply affected not to see her "rival." The day was. brilliant, and the nark full, and Claude, who had not been in England since her childhood, enjoyed it; for, to her, all was comparatively novel. But she missed the presence that she always neaded, and its absence to day was fraught •with added pain, knowing, as' she did, why he did not oom'e. When the coaches had filed out of the park, Maida again asked her young companion to return home with her, but Claude excused herself so Mrs Westmore dropped her at Tho Feme, and drove back to Lexham Uardens. A3 Claude, after luncheon, was going upstairs id change her dress, she met Arthur Fancourt, who stood aside on the landing for her to pass. "Thanks," she said, and paused, her pity for tte wreck before her overcoming any feeling of resentment for the part he was playing against her. Indeed he was too contemptible a foe for anger. What a ghastly burlesque on manhood he was! He looked worse now than when he first came to the house; it was clear that by his present manner of- living he had not many months more cf existence. He was sober; if a man can be , said to be ever really sober who most of his time is the opposite. v "Are you goiugjj out?" Claude

By Bertha M. Clay. Author of " Wife in Name Only," « Wedded'and Parted," "Dora Thome," " A Queen Among Women," " A True Magdalene," etc., etc.,

asked brightly. "Only for a little stroll in the garden,", he answered, "I feel seedy." $ How could he feel anything else? "Haven't you had any luncheon?" asked the girl. • Fancourt shook his head. "Not I," he said. "1 can't eat. I've no appetite, child. I can only drink. Don't look like that!" shuddering, and averting his eyes. "There! you go your way, and I'll go mine. It's *oo late for me to reform." It went to her heart to know that the wretched creature spoke the truth. There seems to be "no place of repentance" for the confirmed drunkard. He almost pushed past her, and hurried downstairs. Claude did not try to stop him. What was the use? Even if she succeeded in moving him it would only be to maudlin tears, and ha would presently drown his remorse in deeper libations of brandy. Ciaude, meanwhile, put on a tea gown that she know Eaiic Stewart liked—he had once admired it when she wore it—and went down to the. drawing room. (To be Continued).