The record-union., 1898-03-06

never suited me. unless it was Very
smart black-jet and bugles, You know
even when l wasn't such a scarecrow
of ehinness. Dering. do you remember
that last dinner party you ever came
to at our house? 1 had on my old rose
flock that you liked best
And we walked out by the moon
light. - So
Indeed, he remembered it all Very
vivid.y. The pompous host-who was q
rich Indian civilian-the young sueal-
terms, tie brilliant George Palmer, just
arrived at Sim1a, and the members of
the Council, who would try and absorb
the conversation of the radiant hostess
in pink satin. All, Well, it was not ne,
DerinS, who was there. 1t was some
one young and foolish and reckless.
with an uniformed taste, and judg-
ment weakened and deterorated by the
frivolous life of the hill station Then
in flash his thoughts reverted to the
girl whom he loved. and to her sur
roundings- He thought of her in the
little garden by the sea: he pictured
her in the dim drawing-room, which
had an air of curious faded splendor.
owing to the presence of some beauti-
ful pieces of furniture and tapestry
which Lord Overton had saved from
the wreck of his fortunes. That room
belonged to Cicely, with her high bred
air and daintily poised head. And with
a feeling of disgust at his own mean
ness he realized how unsuited to the
woman now beside him would have
been the old world grace of those dim.
picturesque surroundings. But his hand
still lay kindly on her head, till sud
denly her voice-she always spoke
rather loudly-interrupted and Jared
upon HIM. He wondered why he had
never before noticed that odd, second
rate twang in her accent
Towns awfully empty. I suppose,
DerinS? What have you been doing
with yourself? Since we dropped our
correspondence--whe was it'll have
ut heard word of you. Q, stay-that's
rather cracker, because little bira
did tell me that an old boy of some
sort had left you money!
He started and WINGED and Mrs.
Livesey noticed it. She laughed ner
harsh, nervous laugh again, and flushed
very red
Good Lord. you don't Imagine that's
l.
sweep as all that. OF course l used
to like clothes awfully, and good din
ners; but you do believe that nothing
of that sort would ever weigh with ME
in comparison with your-your-with
you!"
There was no mistaking her earnest
ness, or the acute pain in her voice.
Dering drew her toward him and
kissed her. Il know you always cared
for me million times more than l de-
served" said he.
Mrs. Livesey went on. speaking very
quickly. I'm fact, when / knew you
had had stroke of luck, II hesitat-
ed-all the more because, Dering, / am
in desperate straits just now myself for
money. John left everything away
from me, you see; for he never forgave
me for-for''-
Major Jardine could easily have fin
ished the sentence He was quite
aware that his affection for Mrs Live
sey had been discovered by the jealous,
violent tempered husband. who had in
consequence Systematically made her
life as disagreeable as was possible.
Had Dering not been so harassed him
have asked her to leave her husbands
nome and come away with him. And
since then. when her despairing letters
had reached him, and pitiful accounts
of her husbands cruelty and rneanness
ne mad often wished that he had. But
he had been obliged to come home hur-
fleoly on SICK leave-a favorite sister
of his had died-and in new scenes his
rQnl<lnCc 20,
gradually changed to feeling of much
soberer quality
What are you going to do now?"
sald MAJOR Jardine, in hoarse con-
stralned voice He felt a reproachful
nash from her eyes, though he scarce
ly looked at her
don't KNOW" she said. with a sob
ohe rose from her knees and leaned
ner burning face against the shabby
mantelpiece.
Derlng got up from his chair and
stood beside her He know that he
was In honor bound to this woman.
unless honor was a word to be forever
expunged from his rather easy going
creed Of morality. He had disturbed
her life when she was prosperous If
not happy; for now that the old passion
was dead. he could look with cruel
caihness upon the past. and see how
easily how very easily. he might have
drawn back in time 1t was in conse
quence of his base selfishness that her
later life had been made an absolute
purgatory by her husband and that she
was left penniless. She had. in spite
or her beauty and a certain reckless
ness of bearing. been immaculate in
conduct until she had known him. Der
ing remembered that other men-nota-
bly,, George Palmer. the brilliant civil
ian-had made desperate efforts to ov-
ercome her scruples, but that she had
always been straightforward where he
himself was concerned. Now she was
aging fast, and hopelessly poor. His
obvious duty was to try and give her
happiness after all that she had suf
fered. Some words. vaguely remem-
bered about "wherewithal a man sin
meth by the same shall he be punished"
recurred to his mind. He had no right
to marry a light-hearted child like
Cicely and to leave this woman alone
in her squalid misery.
Maud" he said, Il need not have
asked you what you are going to da
We will settle that together-very
soon."
She looked up at him with the old
impassioned gaze that had. alas. ceased
to thrill him, and flung her arms about
his neck, sobbing aloud. He tried TO
comfort her, to say few platitudes
that would reassure and give her hope.
After q time she sat down again more
quietly. and they talked of the future.
not of the past now any more 1t was
nearly { o'clock when he rose to go.
By the light of the gas the little room
looked even more sordid and vulgar
4 tl,,. i. 4,I,l L.,