Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, December 25, 1897, Page 6

i as ea ei ee ee CHAPTER IX—(Continued.) Times out of number he had expect- ed to hear that she was going to be married; and if Percy Fletcher hap- pened to accost him suddenly with “I say, old fellow, what do you think?” his face would blanch and his throat swell at the notion that he was going at last to hear the dreaded news; and his relief when he found that what he had to listen to had no connection with Judith had sometimes been so great that he had made Fletcher stare by laughing-in ‘sh contempt at h w ne Times out of number, ad he laid little traps for Fletchér and his wife in the hope of hearing something of former lovers, or some- hat would account for Judith’s sjection of him; but Mrs. Fletcher seemed to say that Judith never had a nd her husband, who was al- ady enough to gossip about other women, never had a word to say about Judith Altogether, he had been n turn in his desire to be it opposite to smiling, flattery-loving ie, whether his turn was coming at st. Your horse had better be taken around to the stables,” remarked El- sie, ringing the beH. After giving the nec orders, she resumed her seat in the bay window opposite to Captain Herbert, and asked him if he had any news to tell her. “Yes,” he answered, flushing slightly ‘some that will give you pleasure. godmother, Mrs. Laramy, died a fortnight ago, and, though I had no invitation, I thought I had better go up to the funeral. She had had her nd I did not expect a all, she has left s she orig- congratulate you! How delight- I am so glad!” said Elsie. And ye him her littie white hand; iough the words sounded well smile was bright, there was in the flush that burned her s and the wistfulness in her that told him there wfis le regret mingled with her And he knew quite well She was sorry that his fortune had not come earlier, she had been free. Elsie jwas d to a man of his experi- » with women; and he smiled to aself scornfully at her weakness, he though her a yery lucky girl to have married Claude Townshend. He in man, and her fayor flatter- but he did not value it, and ur sooner*have had one volu- approval from Judith n all the love her sister could lay- upon him. But there was nothing a y his knowledge of her folly »lied, calmly: knew you whould be We used to be such friends hile y to re; ed would befor “How mother’s cha Captain Herbert ur god- ge in your fav shrugged his shoul- You know what ou mean to. that I have s—that I am cl Dis with a sentimenta you think so, you do not know me, in spite of our—friendship long ago. You men misjudge us so. We poor, weak women, have to submit to fate.” “Well, you have not much to com- plain of,” he returned, not being in a humor to respond to her sentimental allusions to their past flirtation. “You are one of the luckiest girls 1 know, and ought to be as happy as the day is lo Because I married a man who is wealth queried Elsie, with a catch in her breath. se you married a man who idolizes you—though wealth is not by “any means to be despised,” he replied, cynically. “You don’t know how the women in the neighborhood envy you. You must have spoiled the day-dream ef many a young lady when you cap- tued your husband's heart, Mrs. Town- shend.” Elsie laughed and blushed; and, see- ing that he had put her in homor with her good fortune again, he suggested that they should go out for a stroll in the shadiest part of the lawn. And they were there, under the shadow of a huge elm, where the tea-table had been placed, when Claude drove Ju- dith up the avenue. Mr. Townshend was the first to no- tice them, and Judith saw his counten- ance change as he drew her attention to the fact. ‘aptain Herbert!’ exclaimed Judith, in astonishment. “How on earth did he get here?” “Didn’t you know that his regiment had been quartered for the past month at Lisborough? We have seen a great deal of him and his brother officers in that time. Didn't Elsie mention it to you?” “IL don’t suppose she thought about it. ’s letters have been so full of her wonderful baby during the past three months that she had no space to mention outsiderslikethecaptain.” Immediately Claude’s face cleared, and he said to her, with a smile: ‘bye, When you have an op- y, Judy, you must tell me how his attempt to flirt with you terminat- ed. I am curious.” Judith had no time to say anything, for Elsie and the captain crossed the lawn as Claude drew up his horses. Judith kissed her hand to her sister, who was a little in the rear, and then she looked down, half-doubtfully, at Captain Herbert, who was waiting to help her to alight; but the expression of delight she was unable to control was so reassuring that she smiled at jhim as she said: “T was surprised to see you. Claude ‘has only just told me of your having -eome to Lisborough.” “I was surprised just now to hear of your coming,” he replied, as he shook shands w;th her, adding, in a lower tone, “And I can say that I am as pleased us I am surprised.” Both men saw that Judith’s checks flushed, and, as she turned in answer to Elsie’s “Well, Judy, old darling, I am glad to see you,” each of them smiled, Claude at the notion of a wo- man like Judith succumbing to the fas- cinations of the effeminate soldier, and Captain Herbert because the unex- pected sight of that blush roused the dormant hope that her rejection might have been premature. This feeling put to flight all notions of revenge; in fact, he felt ashamed of ever having enter- tained such an ignoble idea. Claude and Captain Herbert went on to the stables, leaving the sisters to ask and answer the hundred questions that each seemed to have to put to the other; and, to look at Elsie’s smiling face as she talked of her husband and their baby, and of her home and her happiness, no one would have doubted but that she was one of the most con- tented women in the world. “I wish those two men would come back,” said Elsie, at length, turning her head to look in the direction of the stables; “but perhaps they don’t want any tea. Ah, here.comes nurse and the baby!” Judith turned eagerly, and, as soon as the child was near enough, took him out of the nurses arms. He was a pretty little fellow, not over big, but compact and very dark. “I laughed when you wrote us that he was like Claude,” Judith said, as she kissed the little face; but there is no doubt that he is—he is so dark, too. Your baby, Elsie! I can hardly real- ize it;” and she kissed the child again. “I wish he was yous, Judy,” Elsie said, smiling and pouting; “it makes me feel awfully old to remember that Tam a mother.” “Ah, that is all put on! As if you were not quite as proud of him as Claude is! No, don’t take him away yet, nurse, please.” The woman walked away; and when Claude and Captain Herbert returned from the stables, they saw Judith sit- ting by the tea-table under the elm with the baby in her lap, while Elsie, in her white gown, knelt beside them, holding up to his gaze a silver tea- spoon, which he was chucking at and making vain endeavors to clutch. “A pretty picture,” remarked Cap- tain Herbert, “Yes,” assented Claude, who was be- ginning to feel in a better humor with the young man, now that he imagined that there was an understanding of some sort between hi mand Judith; “it her brother had come with Judith, as we wished, it would have been a nice little subject for his pencil.” ‘Ah, that is the brother Mrs. Hat- field is so fond of? I hope he is not “No worse than usual, but he would not come; he is a cripple and very sensitive.” {iss Hatfield told me many things about him when she was in town last year.” Claude smiled, and presently invited the captain, quite cordially, to stay and dine with them. “I shall feel de trop,” the captain as- serted; but they all saw he would like te stay. “De trop with us, when you have known us so long? What nonsense!” jaculated Elsie, while Claude said “Rubbish!” —so he stayed. A few minutes later the baby was fetched away, and Elsie put her hand within Judith’s arm, saying: “Come and look at the flowers; a little stroll before dinner will give you an appetite”’—and led the way over the lawns, the two men following, as they chatted on various topics of mascu- line in terést. After dinner, when the two girls were alone, Judith said, in her quiet way: “Were you not surprised when Cap- tain Herbert came here?Do you see much of him?” “Oh, half a dozen times a week, I suppose,” replied Elsie, carelessl, _ “No heiress available, 1 suppose?’ Mrs. Townshend glanced at Judith, and was going to mention his recent inheritance, but, for some reason, she checked herself; and a few minutes later, the gentlemen came in, Claude considerately making his way to his wife’s side when he saw the captain turn towards Judith, who watched his approach with mingled feelings. Be- ing a woman, it was impossible for her not to feel gratified at his con- stancy as it was impossible not to ad- mire his slender, well-set-up figure and good-looking face. At the same time, she hoped she would not see much of him while at Gatley Park. “I wanted to ask you about your sis- ter,” she said, as the captain dropped into a chair next her. ‘How is she?’ “She is very well, and often speaks of the happy evenings she, you and 1 spent together, only you seem to haye forgotten them.” 3 “I am glad you say ‘seem,’ ” returned Judith, lightly. “I think my memory is as retentive as most people’s.” “But you never write to her.” “Because I dislike writing, and have so little time for it when I’m at home.” Meanwhile Claude, as usual, when he had an opportunity, was making love to his wife; and no wonder, for she was looking charming enough to inspire either poet or painter. Her cheeks were daintily flushed, her blue eyes were bright, and her hair was glistening in the setting sun. Her hus- band’s adoration pleased her, for, of late, she had become rather fond of him in a careless and uncomprehend- ing fashion, and it is possible that, if Captain Herbert had not come upon the scene, her love would have lasted. Following his wife’ss gaze as it rest- ed upon Captain HerBert and Judith, Claude said: “Indulging in reminiscences? Will anything come of it, sweetheart?” Elsie began to fidget with her rib- bons. “I don’t know,” she replied, with an uneasy smile. “I can’t understand Ju. dy at all. Once when I teased her she seemed to laugh at the very idea of him as—as a lover; yet look at her now!” 3 : “Perhaps there is a little of your fickleness in calm Judy, after all, my darling,” he returned, fondly; “for it is not so long ago that you did not care twopence for your husband, and you love him now—do you not?” “Of course—don't be so sentimental, Claude!” she answered, less sweetly, as the captain and Judith passed out into the open air from a window near them. “But my falling in love with my husband and Judith falling in love with him, are two different things.” “But what about the captain’s side of the question? Would you like him to marry Judith?’ he asked, regarding her seriously. ‘ “Of course; but I am afraid he does not mean anything, for he used to flirt with Grace, and—and—with a side- glance of mischievous consciousness— “with me, too, once upon a time.’ “At any rate, she is a dear girl, and I should like to see her happily mar- ried. The captain shall come here as often as he likes while she is with us.” “Yes—what fun!” ejaculated Elsie, with a half-hearted laugh; and then, in obedience to her husband's request, she went to the piano and sang to him. But when she found that her singing had lost its power to draw Captain Herbert to her side, she crossed the room and looked out of the window at him and Judith pacing side by side, and her face was not pleasant to see. * * * * * * # For three days Captain Herbert lived in a fool’s paradise, every hour but seeming to inflame his passion for the girl who had scorned him. He could hardly understand himself. Judith had no great beauty to fascinate him, no accomplishments to win his admir- ation, no money to make it worth his while to woo her, and yet he felt his ue would not be worth living without er. Judith had no idea of the new hope he was entertaining, so she was just herself—cool, calm, saying just what she thought, and treated him in a simple, friendly fashion that moved him more than Elsie’s most seductive smiles. i On the third day after his arrival—a very hot one—the captain was at Gat- ley Park, where he found Judith sit- ting alone under an elm tree on the lawn, and lingered there with her. “Isnt it warm?” she asked him, lazi- ly. “Well—yes.” There was not a breath of air. “Only, if I had not felt, IL should not have guessed it by looking at you.” “Do I look so cool? I know Iam aw- fully lazy,” she answered, laughing; “but I have nothing to do except read, and I haven’t the energy to hold a book.” “What would you be doing if you were at home?” he asked. “Sewing, probably; unless I hap- pened to have none on hand; then I should read or go for a stroll with John.” “Happy John!” his eyes said plain- ly, although he did not speak; and Judith, to divert his thoughts, directed his attention to a couple of half-blown yellow roses lying on the rustic table beside her. “Look—isn’t it a pity?’ she said. “Claude gathered those for me this morning, and now their beauty is gone, while, had they remained on the parent tree, they would have been beautiful to-morrow!” “Have you worn them all day?” he asked, eagerly, stretching out his hand towards them. “Yes? Then give them to me. Unwilling to encourage any senti- ment, Judith tried to take them from him, but he only allowed her to ob- tain one, saying, with a smile, as he placed the other in his coat: “You are always so hard to me, Ju- dith You would give any other man a rose and think nothing of it; you have never given me one in your life.” “Well, you have one now, anyway,” she retorted, with a careless smile. “Only I think that if I had wanted to adorn my coat I should have chosen a fresh one.” “I suppose you won't believe that I want it simply because you have worn it? It is the truth. Wear the other, Judith—put it back into your waist- belt or at your throat.” “Rubbish!” she ejaculated. Laughing at her perversity, Captain Herbert took the rose out of her hand and placed it in her hair, lingering over his task, as if he loved it. And upon this little tableau Elsie looked, unseen, unseen by them, as_ she emerged from the house. She stared incredulously for a mo- ment at the captain’s very lover-like attitude, and turned pale with envy and jealousy. Trembling with anger against her sister, she advanced. to- wards them, the blushing smile Judith greeted her with and Captain Her- bert’s coolness in no wise abating her wrath. “Judith,” she said, coldly, “Claude wants some assistance with his let- ters, and I thought you would not mind giving it.” “With pleasure,” replied Judith; and, with a laughing glance at the cap- tain, she took the rose out of her hair. “Don’t be too long,” he whispered, pleadingly up into her face as she passed him. Elsie waited until Judith had passed out of hearing, when, sinking into a chair beside him, she remarked, with an arch little laugh: “You need not expect Judith to put Claude out of the way for your con- venience. Can’t you see that she still considers him before all people?” Captain Herbert turned and looked at her wonderingly. “ ‘Still considers him before all peo- ple?” he repeated, slowly. “I don’t understand.” “Oh, it’s very nice of you to pretend to be oblivious of Judith’s weakness; but’—with a nervous sigh—“it is very painful to me to realize that her infat- uation for my husband is not, as it should be by this time, a thing of the st.” The smiling happiness vanished from the captain’s face, leaving it white, hard and stern, and his eyes were fixed upon Elsie’s treacherous face in a gaze that frightened her. “She—she loved Claude before he saw me,” she faltered; “but—but he preferred me.” Then ensued a dead silence. Cap- tain Herbert did not doubt in the least what he had heard, and was only stunned because the new hope he had cherished made Mrs. Townshend's revelation the more bitter to bear, _ In the few minutes that he sat there —it seemed an age to the jealous wo- man beside him—he told himself that he could understand everything now. Judith’s indifference to himself, her anxiety on Claude’s account on the night she had quitted the ball room in such haste; her affectionate consider- ation and regard for him all the time; the loving caresses she lavished upon his child—because it was his child— were all to be accounted for. At last he knew what he had long desired to know, and he ought to be able to pun- ish her as he hed always intended. But how?! Laying her hand upon his arm, Elsie said: “You seem hurt by what I have told you. What is Judith to you?’ He looked at her keenly, reading easily the jealousy and anger in her fair face. “Hurt! I hurt?’ he ejaculated, with a short laugh. “Why should I be hurt? Judith is nothing to me. What put that idea into your head, Mrs. Towns- hend?” “You. were looking at her very ten- derly just now, and you are wearing the rose she has given you.” “Is that all? Look!’ And, rising, he tore the rose out of his buttonhole and trampled it underfoot. “As to looking tenderly at her—have I not looked ten- derly at you hundreds of times?” “You used to do so,” she whispered, smiling and blushing, and letting him read in her eyes the love and delight his query had caused her. He looked at her for a moment, re- calling what she had lately said of Judith, and realizing how he could re- yenge himself, he said, meaningly: “T used, when I knew you cared for me; I have no right now, though you loved me once.” “Once? Oh, Fred!’ she cried, casting prudence to the winds, “I always loved you—always shall! You know it!” “I hoped it,” he corrected her, with a strange smile. “But we must not for- get that you are Townshend’s wife. You have made me very happy, and it will be some comfort to remember that, though Townshend robbed me of yourself, he did not rob me of your love. But I must go, as I have an ap- pointment with my colonel at five.” And, wishing her “Good-bye” with a discomfiture that she attributed to her own influence over him, he strode away. “Pretty, frivolous fool!” he muttered to himself, with a cruel smile. “If 1 cannot make Judith suffer on her lov- er’s account and through you, my name is not Frederick Burton Her- bert!” ae * mee * Judith hardly realised how the gola- en pleasure and delight that her visit to Gatley Park afforded her at the commencement suddenly — became cloud-cast. Captain Herbert’s unac- countable alteration of behavior did not trouble her until she became aware that he had transferred his lover-like attentions to Elsie, who openly en- couraged him when Claude was not by. But she thought nothing serious of it until Mr. Towushend’s palpable an- noyance one evening, as he v atched his wife and the captain together, drew her closer attention to them. Claude and Judith were on the bal- cony, outside the drawing room win- dow, and Elsie had been singing. As she rose from the piano a bunch of heliotrope she had been wearing in her bodice fell to the ground. and Captain Herbert, having stooped to pick it up, kissed it before he gave it back to her. Both Claude and Judith noticed the action, and the former’s face grew dark with annoyance. “We will go in, Judith,’ he said, brusquely. “Captain Herbert seems to mistake my wife for you in the dusk, and I object. And he returned to the drawing-room, Judith remaining outside. It was only a trifling incident, but Elsie’s look, as she took the flowers and fastened them again in her b om, startled her sister. Was it possi. ble, Judith asked herself, that Elsie still loved the man she had cried about on her wedding eve? And had he simulated affection for Judith in order to obtain a footing in the house of his first fancy? But she could not long entertain this last idea. Judith had had very little personal experience in such matters, but she could not doubt the captaii love for herself. It had been expressed in a dozen ways during those first three days of their meeting. What, then, had alienated him? Had she unwit- tingly said or done anything to offend him? She could not remember—she only knew that since he had placed the rose in her hair that afternoon, he had seemed pointedly to avoid her. Why? As she meditated, Captain Herbert sauntered out. “Sentimentalizing, Miss Hatfield?” he asked, with a faint sneer, looking at her thoughtful face with an intent- ness she wished she could interpret. “No—I have nothing to sentimental- ize about,” she replied, trying to speak lightly. “If you will excuse my saying So, you looked as if you were recalling some very happy memory that yet in- duced a little sadness—as same mem- ories are apt to do.” The hardness in his face relaxed a little as she looked straight at him and answered, laughingly: “Do you mind translating? Or shall I frankly say that, if you mean I am indulging in the memory of a love- affair, you are wrong? I never had one to dream about.” . “Do you forget me, or do you only wish to remind me that the love I haa for you is not worth remembering?” “{ did not wish to remind you of anything; but you must confess that my discretion did me credit—I knew exactly how long your so-called love would last.” “What do you mean?” he demanded. “T mean that your reputation for flirting had preceded your introduction to me, so that I was prepared for— what happened!” He seemed to think over her reply, and at length said, slowly: “Do you mean me to understand that, if you had not heard I was a flirt, your answer would have been different that night? Is your demean- or to me merely the result of your— distrust? Have I been wrong in inter- preting some of your expressions to convey dislike? Answer me, Judith!” But Mrs. Townshend gave her no chance, for she came to the window and called out: “How unwise of you, Judith, to ‘stand out in the open air in that thin muslin gown! Bring her in, please, Captain Herbert!” j me, Judith—I am sure she is “It is rather unwise,” Judith admit- ted; and skilfully avoldimg the cap- tain’s hand outstretched to detain her, she went in. He followed, looking preseritly at her troubled face with an ironical smile. “You could not answer my question, so you ran away,” he muttered. “You were only playing with me—trying to put me off the scent, trying to lead me back into a flirtation with you, so that dear Claude’s happiness might not be disturbed. And I was fool enough to believe in and to be a little moved by your artful ruse. But not again, Ju- dith. You saw me kiss the nosegay Elsie dropped, and you are getting nervous! So far, so good!” He stayed only some ten minutes longer, but even while he listened to and joined in the somewhat forced con- versation that ensued, he was matur- ing his wicked and cruel plans. CHAPTER X. “Judith, I can’t stand this; it is the old game beginning over again, and it will drive me mad!” Claude told the girl, in an outburst of rage and jeal- ousy, a few days later. On the previous day they had been to a garden-party, where Captain Her- bert’s attentions to Mrs. Townshend and her open encouragement had ex cited much scandal, while on that morning Elsie had ridden into Lin: borough with Claude and, having over- taken a party of officers. and some lady-friends who were bent on a long ride, she had consented to join them, though she saw that her husband dis- approved and that business prevented his going. Claude had come home in jealous annoyance, because Captain Herbert was of the party, and now— after several hours’ absence—Mrs. Townshend was riding home with only the captain in attendance. Ju- dith and Claude stood at one of the windows, watching them as they slow- ly rode up to the house, Elsie laughing and boldly returning the captain’s ad- miring glances as they talked. “I thought he came to see you,” Claude remarked, scarcely able to ar- ticulate the words in his excitement. “Elsie led me to believe he did, or 1 would not have encouraged him here, for I never liked him. She is fooling He must be a thorough-paced scound to make attentions to you a blind for—” ‘Don’t say what you may after- wards regret,” interrupted Judith, qui- etly, “and don’t believe that his atten- He pro- tions to me were insincere. posed to me in London last y dared not accept him. You ask the day I came what had been the out- come of our flirtation; but, until now, I have had no opportunity to tell you.” “Well—and now?” “Now I do not understand him. He still loves me—he does not ‘e for El- sie, I feel sure. Now, be calm, Claude; go out, as usual, and help Elsie to dis- mount.’ “There is no need,” he remarked, grimly. “Herbert has already seen to that. By Heaven, I should like to shoot him as he stands!” “And rob me of my lover?’ Judith asked, with a forced laugh. “Don’t be eruel, Claude. Your jealousy will drive you mad! Look at me—I am calm, though their flirtation means as much to me as it does to you—nay, more, for you e Elsie!’ “I wish to Heaven that I had never married her—I should have been a happier man with you!” he exclaimed, with passionate violence; and Judith shivered as she moved away from the window to the little tea-table to await Elsie and her cavalier. Elsie came in first, with a smile on her face, which was flushed from ex- posure to the sun, the captain follow- ing slowly, with an expression of weariness on his face, as Judith was quick to note. r “Well, you two,” said Elsie, brightly, ‘looking from Claude, who was stand- ing grimly in the embrasure, to Ju- dith, “how have you been getting on in my absence? It’s a pity you do not ride, Judy you would have enjoyed it to-day—wouldn’t she, Captain Her- bert?” “Yes,” he said, advancing to shake the hand that that Judith tendered him after he had returned Claude's nod. “But I say ‘Yes’ without know- ing Miss Hatfield’s tastes.” “Miss Hatfield’s taste does not in- cline to horsemanship—she is nervous and inexperienced,” replied Judith, trying the effect of a smile upon him— put it had none, apparently. “But don’t you want a cup of tea, Elsie? You will have one, too, Captain Her- bert?” While they drank it Elsie told them where they had ridden; but in the midst of her recital her husband walked out of the room. She looked after him a little blankly, continuing her narrative rather disconnectedly, and, when she had finished, she made some remark about going up to re- move her habit and see how baby was, and, with an apology to the captain, quitted the room. For a few seconds neither of the two left behind either looked at each other or spoke. The captain was bored and tired after four hours’ compan- ionship with Mrs. Townshend, and Ju- dith was oppressed by many doubts and fears. She regretted that she had not giver the captain a different answer when he proposed to her, for, if she had, he would scarcely have been flirting with Elsie now, and she wondered whether she ought to sacrifice herself for Claude and Elsie’s sake. They had been quite happy until Captain Her- bert came upon the scene would they not be quite happy again, when, as a married man, he had no temptation to flirt with Elsie; for there was no way of getting rid of him. else, since his regiment was stationed at Linsborough for an indefinite period? Of course, Claude‘eould leave Gatley Park, but not for long, because it was his home and his favorite place of residence. She eould not doubt but that Elsie was involved heart-deep in her present flirtation, and that, if she did not re- eeive some violent cheek, there was no knowing where her infatuation would lead her. At the moment she— Judith—did not believe the captain meditated any wrong; but Claude was so hotly suspicious and jealous that it might bring about the very catastro- phe he -would sacrifice his soul to avert. i She was filled with distaste at the very notion of trying to win the cap- tain back and of deceiving him; but, if her sacrifice meant Claude and El- sie’s secured happiness, what would it matter If ste only suffered? #ne would take eare that Captain Herbert never understood, and perhaps she —— ped have to go very far— “ made ae eg and was willing ma a would quickly tire of her, and them, surely, when he had made a parade of his affection fot some one else, Elsie would rate him fof iis true value and spurn him accordingly. But had she the power to win him back? There were women who won men by a glance, or 4 word, or a smile, she had heard: but she was not one these fortunate ones. Was it worth trying—was she bound to so humiliat herself? z <j Turning, with a half-wistful, Le doubting smile, to Iook at Captain Her’ bert, Judith met his intent gaze. “I am sure you have something om your mind,” he said, im the cold, con- strained tone that had ebaraeterized his speech of late. ‘ “I have—a good many things,” she replied, reddening, “but not what you accused me of one evening.” 0? Then I suppose it is other peo- ple’s business you think of? For in- stance, when Townshend scowled at his wife and quitted the room now, you looked quite sad, anticipat- ing a matrimonial quarrel, 10 doubt? “No; because I don’t think Elsie and Claude ever quarrel, though certainly there is a cloud of some sort between them Loy “And—woman-like—your sympathy is all for the man”—with a sneer. “Townshend's welfare seems to be # mn with you!” she answered, with dig- nified quietude. “He is my sister's husband his welfare means Elsie’s, and I am very fond of her.” He looked at her doubtfully, and, perhaps, because her quiet good sense and thoughtfulness were in such strong contrast to Elsie’s, his face and man- ner softened. “You are an extraordinary girl,” he observed. “Why don’t you leave peo- ple to look after themselves, and let them go to perdition im their owD way?” “That is a very selfish ereed, Cap- tain Frederick Herbert! But you are in a bad humor.” “How do you know?” he asked. She shrugged her shoulders. laugh- ing’ here are little signs.” But you don’t know me so well as all that; and you will not credit me with the smallest of virtues. I amv sure of that.” “Then, if you are sure, why do you look at me in that questioning way? You know you are waiting for me to say something flattering!” T should have to wait until my hair turned gray if I expected you to say something that would be a flattering truth. I believe you hate me, Judith!” “Do yo?’—and she glanced into his eyes with a smile. Yes, I do; for you eonveyed hatred in your look once, and I shall never forget it.” “When was that?’ she queried, start led by his tone. “It is not worth recalling to your memory; but I have wondered many times if, had you known it, you would have done me the good turn you un- consciously did.” Judith looked so as- tonished that he proceeded to explain. “It was all owing to you that I had ” What money? BE don’t un- “You remember going with Margery to see Miss Laramy, my godmother, so that I offended the old lady? Well, she took a great fancy to and she told my sister that if 1 to marry you, she would take me you, wer back into her good graces again; for she thought you would be the making of me. Margery told her afterwards that you had rejected me;.and the old lady was so sorry for me that she left me all she had, because, in her opin- ion, I needed all the compensation I could get for the loss of so good a wife.” “Is that the truth?’ demanded Ju- dith, with a hot blush. “Thanks for your very: compliment- ary doubt, Miss Hatfield it is the truth. What do you think of it?” “That you ought to be very grateful to me, instead of resenting my rejee- tion of your suit,” she said, laughing- ly. “You think, then, that I must prefer money to you? Untruthful —mercen- ary—despicable flirt? What is- there left for you to call me?” “I haye not called you anything! You seem to take a delight in pervert- ing my remarks.” “If I do, it is because I do not un- derstand you, and I cannot heup see- ing that your eyes look what your lips. do not say.” Judith said nothing to this: for very shame she did not hate, but neither did she love him, so that he might have read that her liking was not suf- ficient to prevent the bare thought of his becoming her lover being more than distasteful to her:. Hating: her~ self for her intended deception, she rose abd moved to the: window; he-sat on, mcodily watching her until, drawm by some irresistible influence, he: rose, too, and followed her.. “Judith, I don’t think you, realize what you are doing for me. IE have never been what one could possibly term a good man; but I have never been disposed to do anything really evil until lately—sinee I have known you. q you had cared for me, you might have—” + He checked himself, because she had turned to look at him, and there were tears in her eyes.. In spite of his re- solve to the contrary, he allowed him- self to be moved by them,. and, im an- other instant, held her in his arms, ~- “Tears, Judith? What are they for?” he asked in a tone of passiomate re- gret. “Have L made you ezy? Dar- ling, forgive me! I love you still—I - always shall! Take back your refusa! and marry me—will you?” . (To Be Continued.) of His, Confidential Confession. A ¢ “Tell me, doctor,” asked the amlbg- tious young disciple of Galen, eagerty, “what was the most dangerous case you ever had?” ot. Relay “In confidence, now that I am it to retire from practice,” answered the — veteran physician, frankly. “L will confess that it was my medicine case.* Take care how you listen to the of the flatterer, who, in ae. comply with his wishes, - zy 200 defects Instead of a | | ' ' i i * ' ;