The morning call., 1892-08-28


at a morning concert in PARK Lane, given
by some wealthy dilettante, who culed
talent from all known sources to charm a
crowd as needless aud as tickle as herself.
Cora glanced at the programme which
Maulrevsr had just handed her. Mrs.
Viyianp' she cried. "Oh, am so glad she
is 10 sing! She has such a beautiful voice,
and IS such charming woman, too; l was
introduced to her few weeks ago. Now
you may expect treat, critical as you are"
Il suppose she Will be very much like
other singers" murmured MaulTever lazily.
land have heard so many"
And as he spoke he glanced at Cora's
face, thinking it looked somewhat more
delicate OF late. She was dressed all in
soft creamy Indian silk, with trimmings of
lace, and at her throat nestled pale yell
low rose The sweeping feathers OF her hat
rested on the gold-brOwn hair, and shaded
her face little as she looked at her pro-
gramme.
Bending thus she did not see the woman
who swept across the platform and stood
facing the critical eyes OF the arlstocratlc
crowd, nor did she the sudden palior which
crept over Stuart MauireverS Dr0nZed face,
but she heard his startled exclamation
looked MP, and saw, and understood.
Usually so calm and impaSsive, now
Stuart Maulrever literally trembled as the
sweet rich tones OF that voice rang over the
room, waking In him memories so sweet and
bitter, he c0nd have gr0aned aloud as he
heard.
He sat on, forgetful Of his companion, OF
time, place. surroundings. The past held
him in his spell, and every note of the clear
pathetic voice was Ike throb of pain in
his breast.
There was intense silence throughout
the room. The song was simple enough
Perhaps that was one reason of its
charm-that and the sweet, sad face of
the singer, in her simple white dress and
with cluster OF white flowers in her
hands
Never during that song had Stuart
Maulreyer looked at the singer-neyer
had Cora Tresillian looked at him. But
she was conscious 10 her very hearts
core that he was suffering; that this
woman held IL in her power 10 move
and touch him as never she had done or
could do.
a strange, cold, blank feeling crept over
her-a sense Of shame, of pity, Of sorrow
new TO her young bright life, and from
which she shrank, as all young and happy
things shrink. IN terror and in pain.
\ sense Of passionate resentment stole
over her as the song concluded and the
singer left the platform, only to be recalled
again aud again.
What was this woman TO him? She was
not very beautiful, nor very young, and
yet-aHd yet-he suffered for her sake. She
knew that as she glanced now at the pallor
CT his face.
+ What a light Of anguish burned in the
| dgnre
The concert went on. When the first
J part was over there was movement among
the audience. A quarter OF an hours inter
val for gossip or refreshments. Some
sirolled into the tea-room. some remained
IN their seats.
Cora touched MaulreYer's arm.
Take me into the conservatory over
there" she said. THE heat is Suffoeating." ."
Then she seated herself on a low chair
and O lauQpl mn a her comma niOn-
Il want to ask yOn question" she said
quietly. You may believe me. it is not
only curiosity that prompts me. You know
Mrs. Vivian, do you not?"
Ies. Or, rather know the woman who
calls herself So"
1T is not her real name9 l thought as
much" said Cora.
She had grown very pale, and her eyes
had paine1 and wistfui entreaty in them
that startled him as he met their gaze.
But his own heart was too troubled to
dwell on so vague a fancy.
II wish you would trust me enough 10
tell me all" Cora said gently. I'VE are
such old friends and it has needed no
words 10 tell me You are unhappy"
lie moved restlesslv.
"Ob, child-childw he said "Who is
there in all This earth who IS EOt-that?
am 20 worse of than my fellows. ana if |
an. why should yoa eare?'
Il do care" she said quietly. Il wish to
help you."
NO one can do that" he answered. al
am not the first man who has made q mis-
take and lives out his life regrettlng it,"
She was silent fer loGg time and Maui
reYer forgot even her presence. Her voice
recalled him at last.
II wish you would fad the others and
ask them to come home. | have a head
ache" she said. 81 cannot stand any moro
music to-day. You will come tonight"
she added, as he led her away to the car
Tiage.
Her voice was almost enlreaung; but she
did not lock az him.
IF you-wIsh," he answered hesitatingly.
Then she summoned up courage. Her
great soit eyes looked frankly back to his
own, Dut IN them he could read nothing.
Il do wish il" she said very softly.
As the words echoed In his ear he stood
alone In The warm June sunshine.
1t was past . o'clock that evening when
Colonel MaulreyeT found himself in the
drawing-room of the Tresillians' house In
GrOsvenor square The blinds had not
been drawn and a shaded lamp that stood
on stand near one Of the windows was its
only light. He found Cora there alone.
He could not help seeing how white her
face was, but he pat that down to the head
ache Of the aftern o0n,
You see have come" he said smiling,
as be took her hand in his. but thought
l should find you arrayed for the fray.
=
No. she said, as she seated herself
again on the low chair by the window: 81
don't feel inclined 10 20 out tonight"
There was pause. He was studying the
delicate face and maryeling a little what
was the change in 1t. Eer voice broke
across his thoughts.
+ Don't think me impertinent" she said
! hurriedly. Il know, | mean, of course, like
every one else-I heard OF your marriage
Was-was Mrs. Vivian"
MY wife?" he asked quickly, as she
stammered over the words.
Yes" She had found her voice again.
''She was - or rather, / should say,
she ls."
'YOu-would you mind telling me why
you parTed?"
II don't ike TO speak Of it. The story
has been sealed mp in my heart for FIVE long
years. IT, in all these years, | have not
known one happy hour, have but my own
cursed folly TO bamel u
There was long silence. Then with a
heavy sigh he suddenly reused himself
"After al" he said, ''why should / not
tell you? / wanted you to think well of
me, child. but i is better you should not
far. far better"
She said nothing. She was strung ND to
the utmost pitch Of endurance Not no
ticing her silence. he began his story.
The story was nothing very uncommon
had she known more of life. Like most un-
equal marriages, there had been much TO
condone on both sides. He had loved this
girl very passiOnately-YeTy nobly-tnink-
ing naught OF sacrifice on his part. But
though she loved him with equal tender
ness, she had been Jealous exacting, sus-
picious from the first. His friends ignored
her-his world would have none Of her, and
she laid the blame OH him.
Quite suddenly she left the shelter of his
roof, declaring she would go back to her old
life Of the Stage, the life he so disliked and
despised. He had written to his LAWYERS
bidding them make her an allowance, and
then without farewell they parted. and he
| returned to India full of rage and indigna-
tion at her conduct.
He had never seen or heard OF her till In