II BREEME HOUSE
1 _1 By Katherine Newiin Burt |
SwiwMHimEH
11
“I told him”—Aline dropped
her other hand and lifted to him
a pair of vividly unhappy,
frightened, ami remorseful eyes
—that I was engaged to marry
—you.”
Ard then she snatched the
hand from him, covered her face,
crumpled up in her chair, and
criec.
Sir Geoffrey walked away
quickly and came quickly back.
His glass had dropped out of his
eye, and his hands, behind him,
worked into each other. Also
his face had lost its frank ex
prcRflion. it looked as though
someone behind were pulling at
ths wires which were fastened
shout his mouth.
•Hh- r. Also, his face had lost its
frank expression. It looked as
though someone behind were
pulling at the little wires which
were fastened about his mouth.
“You did perfectly right,” he
tegan at last in a burr ed voice.
He paused, then went on steadi
ly. “I told you that if the time
ever .came when you needed the
protection of my name, you were
to use it, just in that way. Your
father made me a kind of
guardian to you all, and I saw
that Alee was—being inconsider
ate. Either he doesn’t know his
®wn tnind, or he feels he isn’t
Ifrcc. It was right of you;
•pleadid of you. But—”
“But what, Sir Geoffrey!”
£ •1‘Bijt what you told him need
Wt count unless you want it to.
Please stop crying, dear. It’s
quite nil right. Do you want it
to be so really Aline, or—or
was it only—”
“You know all about me,”
whispered Aline. “You know
how I turn to yo'i. Do you think
you can make mo forget this
other feeling! It is all so hope
less and so wrong. Alee will mar
ry Claire Wilton. I don’t know
how he feels towards me. Not
deeply, 1 am sure. He is often
*o unkind. Ho has never con
sidered me. I am sure he has
never really thought of marrying
me. Why should he! "Only a
wonderful person like you
could—”
‘‘Hush, Aline!”
“I want to love you,” she
cried, clinging to him. “I want
to. In every way I need you. If
l weren’t such a fool—”
“No, Aline; we won’t go over
that. It’s not foolish. I’ve
thought over this matter a
thousand times, as you know.
And very often I’vo come to the
conclusion- that you couldn't do
better than marry me. I will not
press you. I’m not like a hot
headed young fellow, you know.
Never mind what you said to
Alec this morning. If you can’t
later, that you’ve changed your
tnind anything you like. Only
on my honor, young lady, I be
tive you’d be doing a sensible
thing if you H,st. sitck to it. 1
believe Heaven put the. words in
to your mouth.”
\ 011 1*0 Kll elm itrli
perod.
“Come, little girl. You must
n t cry any more. Do you want
to think it over, or do you want
to decide now I”
Aline sent round the quiet
room a long, pleading look. Her
faea^ was a great prayer for
poa?e and good counsel. She
looked up at Sir Geoffrey’s face
and saw those little wires at
painful work around his tight
fchut mouth.
For answer she stood up and,
reaching her hands up to his
head, drew it down and kissed
l im o.! the f .’‘elu-Mi
i In n he stoj * m the door to
!• * her .,ut, and «.*•» by him
like a crumpled little ghost.
“Here’s my new ear, Aline,”
he said. “She’ll whisk you home
In no time. Isn’t she a beauty
eht”
Aline looked and admired.
She was completely dazed. The
world looked different; colors
brighter, outlines more confused.
The old house seemed as new as
the shining car; Sir Geoffrey, a
stranger; herself, an unknown
entity. She had altogether lost
her life. She wondered coldly
whether it would be possible to
find it.
Arrived at Breeme House,
Aline went indoors at once. As
Sir Geoffrey turned h:s car to
leave the place, he caught sight
of Claire Wilton, coming towards
him across the lawns. His eyes
lighted quickly with pleasure—
and as quickly clouded with a
sudden unwelcome resolution. He
put on speed, and passed on down
the drive-way as if he had not
seen her. In that moment Sir
Geoffrey knew the pang of self
renunciation.
When, in the drawing-room
after dinner, Aline saw Alec
coming over to her, she hid her
work under a cushion and slipped
out by the long open windows
to avoid him.
She fled through bars of shade
and moonlight to a little bower,
walled in by ewe-hedges, and
fragrant with Jane’s mignonette.
She sat down in the shadow, a
little breathless, eyes and ears
alert. The night was even
stranger to her than the day.
She had not yet found herself,
she was engaged, it seemed, to
marry Sir Geoffrey Brooke.
That was her secret. She had
decided to keep it for some
little time. it was i.ecsssary,
first to realize the fact before he
made it known. Peace might
come, and happiness; hut
lightness of heart was gone. Here
for a moment tears stood in her
eyes. But those brothers and
sisten of bcrs would be happier
now. Sir Geoffrey would father
them, every one. He had always
wanted her to let him do that;
now it would be his right.
**I wonder if I look old,” she
though^ “I wonder if Sir Geof
frey really loves me.”
She looked down at herself—
at the hands Sir Geoffrey had
held, that Alee had kissed. She
remembered the pale, thin face,
tear-marred, that had looked
vaguely at her from the mirror
while she dressed for dinner.
“There are girls,” sh« thought,
"who look like embodied joy,
who gleam, hair, skim and eyes—
girls with auras.”
Atme stirred restlessly. Why
had she thought of Claire againT
The familiar laugh had been
taken up subconsciously by her
ear and translated quiok/y into
conscious thought. She should
not have been startled when a
clear, r.aging voice called to her
and a figure appeared swiftly
from the shadows of the ewe
walk.
"I’ve foud yon fot him,” cried
Claire triumphantly, sitting
down beside her.
"Oh* please, don’t.”
Aline tried to keep the nerv
ousness out cf her voice. She
was dreadfully oppressed by
Claire’s presence. Somehow, in
this mood-and light, the Ameri
can girl’s tingling vitality over
whelmed her. Claire, in her
dress of Chinese-dragon green,
her golden scarf, the glimmering
topaz at her throat, a jewel that
gave fire on her finger, seemed
to Aline almost wickedly alive.
"Yon have all the air of a
hunted dryad,” laughed Claire:
“ 'the god pursuing, the maiden
hid.’ I wish”-here she stretched
her arms Alxjve her head—"I
wish someone would terrify mo.
I’d love to run ami run and run
through the moonlight with ny
heart in my throat. Do you
know—now this isn’t a boast,
it’s something I’m ashamed of—
I’ve never been afraid in all my
life."
"That, argues. said Aline,
“a very sheltered existence, a
lack of imagination, or an amaz
ingly steady nerve. But why do
you think I an afraid?”
Claire, for an instant, imitated
Jane’s sidelong look.
“You should have seen your
face when I eame along the
walk: But why, why, why be
afraid of l^ord Treimmt ? If it
had been Rufus Tremont, now:”
Aline felt annoyed and restive.
She decided to go in again, and
rose. Claire, however, remained
sitting there and looking up in a
fashion that somehow arrested
Aline. “I like,” said Claire,
“all kinds of courage. And I
hate all kinds of cowardice.
There are plenty of things re
nounced with a fine air, of sac
rifice which a little courage
might have held. I’m not
terribly squeamish myself; I
don’t brook much interference
when I’ve once made up my
mind about wanting a thing.”
Uere she set those vivid lips to
gether. “I’m like that.” She
shot a hand out like an arrow,
so that Aline started. “I’d go
through fire and not feel it.”
The Rnglish girl’s blood be
* an s’owly to take heat. Why
should she he threatened and
warned! Why should she be
told to step out of the way?
Alec, after all, was hers by
right of long comradely years.
“Have you n^ver found your
self, by that method, winning
the shell of a thing, when its
soul has escaped you?” she sug
gested dryly.
Claire pondered, the moon
light on her up-lifted clear-cut
face. She looked at Aline stead
ily, searehingly. Of a sudden
she smiled.
“Don’t side-track,” she said.
“Exactly what do you mean by
that?”
“I mean”—Aline came nearer
by a step—“that I’m not in sym
pathy with your methods. I don’t
like crushing victims under my
chariot wheels. I want a thing
—oh, yes! ns vehemently as you
—but I want it as a free gift. I
want it with a clear conscience.”
Claire meditated again.
“Squeamish people,” said she,
“are apt to imagine victims un
der their chariot wheels! To stop
being figurative, I know a girl
who gave up marrying the man
she loved, and who loved her, be
cause she thought his happiness
would be better cared for by a
richer woman. The little idiot!”
“Oh, why do you* say that!”
Aline flinched involuntarily.
“She tore her heaft out to do
him service.”
I i K
a pretty sort ot service! She
took from him the great chance
of a lifetime. Why couldn’t she
have had courage for him and
for herself? She was afraid that
he might suffer discomfort, lack
of ease, anxiety. It was sheer
cowardice. Perhaps, after all, he
was well out of it. A woman
must be the braver creature of
the two. She mustn’t ever see
danger for him except by way
of helping him to face it. I’d
hate to shelter the man I loved.
And as for that, I'd hate another
man to shelter me.”
Aline stood and listened to this
speech. It puzzled her; left her
doubtful of Claire’s motives.
“Ts she challenging me?” she
thought, I’ve not the sporting
instinct for that sort of thing.
I d almost like to feel as she does*
It’ rather primitive; or is it the
next step forward ? I may be at a
sort of middle stage. I wonder if
I am a coward 1”
Here Alec appeared at the en
trance of their bower and stool!
straight and pale and narrow
eyed to look at them.
Claire rose like a green flame
from the seat.
“.I’ll n,ver play at hide-and
seek with you again,” she cried.
“IIow many brown-eyed Alices
do you want, Ben Bolt? Isn’t one
enough, to tremble with fear at
your frown?”
But where’s the one?” asked
Lord Trernont.
Claire laughed, and on her
laughter slipped away past him
into the green-black yew passage
that led from their retreat.
Her laughter left a deep silence,
and in it stood Aline and Lord
Trernont, their hearts beating
hard. At last, very gently, more
gently than she had ever hard
him, he spoke.
“Are yon afraid of me, Alie?”
he asked her.
She smiled her old smile.
“No you goose.” It was the
tone of nursery banter.
“Then why have you been
running away from me?”
‘For a great many reasons.”
“One of them?”
She moved restlessly before
him, her smile flickering out.
He watched her anxiously and
keenly. She was not warmly
dressed. Her thin, grey frock—
so old, and plain, and worn—was
no protection against the grow
ing chilliness of night, and he
could see that she was shivering
a little. She was very pale, and
there were shadows under her
eyes. For the first time in hi*
life Alec was moved by a pro
tective tenderness.
“Was it because you thought
I would repeat my question of
this morning? In the face of v/hat
you told me? Was it, Aline?”
“I don’t know, Alec,” *he
stammered. Don't torment me,
please. I’m very tired to-nigb2.”
He drew his eyebrows to
gether.
“Last thing I want to do, to
torment you. But—just—I say
—for a moment, if you can, think
of me. We’ve known each other
so long. We ought to be able to
he frank, to talk things over. A
while ago you hurt me horribly
by—your suggestion. I’ve seen
the sence of it. But is sense
everything?”
She couldn’t speak. He had
picked up Claire’s thread of
thought. One half of her would
0
cue to stop him, the other to heal
him out. It was a deadlock, and
her mind stood still.
“I’m in debt. I’m poor. 1
can’t—I mustn’t be rash or self
ish. And yet, surely, there are
other ways out of njy fix. Rufus
Tremont has half-hinted that he
could help me out. This engage
ment, of yours—
Suddenly she turned upon himi
her old ironic style veiling a pas
sion of resentful pain.
“We are both cowards, Alec.
I know that. But let’s never
talk about these things again.
It's all—any way you look at it—
a mess. You ask me to think ol
you. Haven’t I thought? But
what do we cither of us get from
thinking? What would we get
from frankness, as you call it?
I could ask you one question
that would silence you utterly.
You know very well what that
question would be. I’d rather
die than ask it, or hear your
answer to it.”
“Here’s one question that I
will ask,” cried Alec, “and I will
hear your answer. No; you
shan’t run away. I don’t want
to torment you. I’m trying to
think of you, Aline. Do you
love Sir Geoffrey?”
Quickly and evenly she an
swered.
“I do love him.”
“Better than—than you—love
me?”
“Ah! I didn’t tnink you’d
dare!”
Her anger made a brightness
about her, 'and Alec fell back.
In that second he had lost her.
She was away, light and swift as
a little grey moth in the night.
CHAPTER XII
A WAGER FOR A WALTZ
Claire, coming downstairs
from the gallery, the next bright
morning, was approached very
gravely and anxiously by Robins
with a paper in his hand. Back
of Robins, near the door, kept
back, Claire felt, by the caution
ing other hand of the old serv
ant, stood a sleek, meek, long
haired man in loose clothes, with
a tin box and folded easel under
his arm. He stood, his head
rather deprecatyigly bent, his
'black eyes flying furtively about
the room. Claire thought him a
picturesquely unpleasant figure.
“Oh, miss,” said Robins, in
his discreet, respectful whisper,
“this ' gentleman says lie’s a
painter, miss, and he' wishes to
make a copy of the Van Dyke. I
don’t ust what to think about it,
miss. The man is a foreigner, I
fancy, and I don’t like the looks
of him; but between you and
me, miss he has a note here from
Lord Tremont.”
“Oh, then it must be quite
right,” she said. “Is that the
paper?”
(TO BB COXTIN’UKD)
When Sentiment Governs.
From West’# Docket.
At the trial of a prosecution In
volving "public morals" the court
charged that "the common sense of
the community and the sense of
decency, propriety, and morality
which most people entertain in the
community In which the acts were
alleged to have been committed was
the test to apply.”
The brief of the Assistant Attor
ney General on appeal from the con
viction contained a somewhat similar
statement 'to the effect that what
might outrage public decency In one
community might not affect another
community; that public morals and
Ideals might be different in different
sections; that the purpose of the
law under consideration was to pro
tect the various communities from
acts grossly disturbing the public
peace or morals or outrage the public
decency of the community disturb
ed; and that the statute might apply,
and was intended to apply, differently
in different communities.
The Criminal Court of Appeals of
Oklahoma, In Roberts v. State, 225
Pacific Reporter, 663, speaking
through Mr. Justice Bessey, stated its
view on the subject as follows:
“With this plastic, uncertain appli
cation of the statute, by which it
might be made to apply differently
in different communities, we cannot
agree. • • *
"Raws against crime are Intended
to operate uniformly in every place
within the territorial limits over
which they extend. To hold that a
penal law may or may not operate
as such in a particular community,
dependent upon public sentiment in
that community, would, in its last
analysis, amount to the antithesis ol
law, and result in a kind of anarchy
where every community might es
tablish its own penal regulation#.*’
Rest In Peace.
From the Los Angeles Times.
Mr. Whaley Is a very light sleeper,
one who Is easily awakened and is a
long time getting to sleep.
One night, while traveling through
New York state, he was obliged to stop
at a suburban hotel, and after much
tossing about he finally succeeded In
getting into a sound sleep. In answer
to loud repeated knocks on his door,
he nervously sat bolt upright In bed and
hollered:
"What’e wanted?”
"Package downstairs for you, sir."
“Well, let It stay there: it can wait
until morning, I suppose.
The boy shuffled down the corridor
and after a long time the guest fell Into
a sound sleep again. Then came an
other knocking at the door.
“Well, what's up now?" queried Mr.
Whaley.
“ ‘Taint for you. that paekagel"
•EmrfU
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--- i
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>4
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A
