The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1912-05-09
Copyright. by W. q. Chapman.)

Z. g. Chapman.)
is masquerading as the mistress, the
mistress as the companion, l am sure.
Tell me, in heavens name, which is
which and what their purpose is"
Dearest Richard" the answer came,
two days later. "Mary Davenant is
the girl with the dark hair and gray
eyes. / do not know Miss Grice, but
l imagine that she is fair-haired and
has blue eyes, If she is the young
woman / once met at Miss Davenant's
house. And now 1 will let you into a
little secret, Richard. l told you that
Miss Davenant was disillusioned. She
has had the same unhappy experiences
that you have had. And she has
known the purpose of your visit to
Atlantic City, as you truly surmised.
Like you, she has a duty to her fami-
~, and that Is to marry a title-but
she would never marry a man who
had not proved his devotion. That is
obviously the cause of her mas
querade. You must marry her, Rich
ard; she is not Indifferent to you and
you would learn to love each other"
But to have the most charming girl
In the world rammed down ones
throat is al attraction that is apt to
cloy, and Richard; ever perverse, soon
discovered that the blue-eyed compan-
lon, already more attractive to him
that the dark-haired Mary Davenant,
had made a profound impression on
his heart. The knowledge that she
was forbidden to him, added to the
sense of his obligation to marry the
heiress, rapidly began to render him
a hopeless victim to Miss Grice's
charms. He saw that, unless he could
bring himself to propose to Mary
Davenant Immediately, he would never
do SO, and, In despair, selected his op-
portunity n clear and warm October
night, when the moon was not yet
arisen and profound darkness reigned
outside the well-lit hotel.
Hitherto he had not betrayed his
knowledge of their masquerade, but
now, seized with a sudden resolution,
he stopped in his walk as the three
paced the piazza side by side.
miss DaVenant," he said hoarsely,
turning toward the dark-haired heiress
and desperately nerving himself for
the attempt, Twill you come down to
the stone seat at the end of the
grounds with me? Let us listen to
the sea together"
Without any further explanation or
apology to the other for his seeming
discourtesy, he led the way to the
end Of the grounds, until they stopped
at the stone bench beneath the wall
which maintains the green of the grass
against the entertainments of the sand.
He felt Miss Davenant follow him, al
most by some sixth sense, rather than
anything else, for he could see moth
ing In that intense darkness, and her
slippered feet made no sound upon the
turf.
At the seat he turned, and heard the
light rustic of her scarf as the wind
blew it around her. .-
i want to ask you to be my wife,
Miss Davenant," he said nervously.
She made no answer, but seemed to
await his further words, m~otionless,
silent, as though she were herself a
part of the darkness. Jocelyn felt for
her hand and caught it in his own.
Il love you, Mary" he stammered.
Will you give me my answer?"
He drew her toward him and felt
her arms circle his neck. Then her
head lay on his breast, and, bending
down, he kissed the lips of-Con-
stance Grice!
A feeling Of intense despair over
mastered him. He had played his
cards, and fate had proved too pow
erful. But this was followed by a
sudden delirious Joy. Well, If Con-
stance Grice had by this miracle been
given to him, why should he place
duty to his family before the dictates
OF his heart? Rent by two conflict
Ing emotions, he stood gazing out into
the tumbling sea, needless of the girl
who still lay silently in his arms.
Presently Constance Grice disen-
gagged herself and looked up at him.
why are o so sad?" she asked.
1T is because you have learned that
I love you?"
THAT has made me happier than
anything in the world, Constance" he
answered.
"'Constance!'" she repeated. care
you thinking of my companion? Why
do you call me that?"
Because I have penetrated your wise
little secret, dearest" Jocelyn answer
ed. II have known for days that Miss
Davenant had persuaded you to change
names with her, 80 as to test me. For
she knew I loved her and she feared
that It was for her wealth and not for
herself" He broke OF abruptly. He
was like a swimmer in treacherous
waters. He could not think clearly.
Dared he pursue this infatuation to
its irrevocable termination? Could he
indeed settle himself to marry this
companion, dearly as he loved her,
without some further proof of her de-
votion? Suppose she, too, had tried
to trick him into his proposal?
By revealing his knowledge of her
secret he had shown in the ~clearest
possible manner that he loved her for
herself alone. But. IL he def1ed his ia
| ther and marriod h}o