Wybrowe's Will. will send you a special invitation. She was positively hugging her- I let her continue that exercise to her heart's content without any further attempt to demonstrate to her that it was by no means called for, and took her away, as I was bid, to get an ice. She ate three large ones. Then Lady Boodle came up, and glared apoplectically at me through her double eyeglass when I was presented to her. Then she ate ices, which I had to fetch for her. When they had both tried their digestion sufficiently in this way, the two dowagers went off together to another tent to have five o'clock tea, and I was set at liberty. The croquet-lawn was nearly deserted when I crossed it. Valsemusic floating out into the still, sultry air through the open French windows of Mrs. Huntingdon's drawing-room explained this phenomenon. Near the doorway, with a fresh knot of men about her, stood Mrs. Wybrowe. Just as I entered, some man asked her for the valse they had just commenced. It was Gordon Murray, an admirable performer. I was near enough to hear her refusal; but, making as though I heard it not, proffered a similar request the next moment. The same refusal was on her lips, when the angry blood rushed swiftly into her face; she bowed her head silently, and put her hand upon my arm. As I turned, I saw Alvarez Smith watching us. The next moment my arm was close about her and we were swinging round the valse circle. I quite understood to what I owed that valse: she had read a threat in her persecutor's eyes, and had rebelled against it. Swiftly and smoothly, perfectly together in a flying Viennese step, we had taken a couple of turns before either of us had spoken a word. As we passed the place where I had seen Alvarez Smith standing the second time, her hand closed suddenly on mine, and I felt her shiver in my arms. 'You are tired. Shall we stop?' 'No, no!' she murmured. 'Don't stop. Keep on.' And we kept on, till the 'Soldaten-lieder' came to an end. That fellow annoys you,' I said, as we whirled by him again. 'I believe he has the evil eye myself.' 'Don't talk of him!' And again I felt her shiver. 'If you bid me not-no. But it is intolerable, you know. And quite preventible. Why should you perinit- Hush! And as she spoke she lifted her eyes, in that slow, languid fashion she had, up to mine. 'Hush! Don't let us speak or think of him now.' There is something stronger than ice-water in the veins even of a cynic of seven-and-twenty, after all. A fire shot through mine at her delicious emphasis of the 'now.' Her head drooped towards my shoulder again, and she seemed to nestle like a tired bird in my arms, that, involuntarily, closed about her closer. 'What a valse this is!' she said, presently. I think no one has my step like you.' You will trust yourself to me again, then?' 'If you choose.' No need to answer; we must have been sufficiently en rapport for her to read my thoughts easily enough. The valse ended, we went away intr square dance that followed. the conservatory to sit out the We sat out a good many there. The evil eye lit on us once or twice. I think we were both too happy to trouble ourselves much about that. Only this, dance, Amy,' Mrs. her in the hall. 'That rose will be dead before It was the white rose she wore in her bosom that I asked for. She gave it me without a word. Then Lady Oswestry swept by us on some man's arm to the carriage; we followed. I held her hand in long, close farewell clasp; then the carriagedoor was shut upon her; and Alvarez Smith and I were standing side by side on the gravel, watching her drive away. IV. The Season was over; London emptying fast; duns pressing; the heat intolerable. Howbeit I abode still in the Sahara of Bruton Street. Aunt Medusa had gone down into Kent with the Boodles, having extracted from me a promise to come down for the September shooting-a promise I only intended to keep if The 'if' was in Park Lane. Lady Oswestry had not yet made her move, hesitating between Buxton and Lindenbad; and I was watching the turn of the scale. For with Lady Oswestry would go Helen Wybrowe. And where Helen Wybrowe went I meant to follow. I had not spoken yet, though nearly a month had passed since that day at Fulham I had marked with a white rose. She had hardly given me a chance. And yet she knew, who knew me as I was, that I loved her -had loved her from the very moment our eyes met for the first time. And I knew my strange, wilful, passionate darling-my Helen, who was like no other-I knew she loved me with the one love of her life. Only between her loving me and my winning her there was much. Nevertheless the mask we both wore, before each other as before others, was getting too stifling to be worn much longer. It fell from both of us at last. .I had been sitting with her in Lady Oswestry's morning-room, urder the shelter of the sunshades, among the flowers, one day for nearly an hour. My lady was heaven knows where; and we had been alone all the time. Commonplaces had languished, and died. There had been a silence, which those heavy violet eyes filled divinely enough, but which both of us knew must be broken; and only in one way. I looked up into her face. In its passion-pallor, in the trembling lip, in the scarce-restrained tears that had gathered slowly to the eyes, I read what made me take her swiftly in my arms; and then the silence was broken by the sweet sound of her own name. 'Helen!' She shivered, as she had shivered in that valse, only, this time, not with fear. And her head, with its diadem of amber hair, sank down upon my breast; and I bent mine till my lips touched hers, and clung to them. I had won her! Not yet. The next moment she had freed herself. Oh! why have you done this?' she sobbed-wailed almost. 'Why? Because I love you, Helen. Because you love me. And because you and I know this is so.' 'Yes,' she murmured; 'yes; you love me. I know that. I knew it that day at Fulham. As no one ever has loved-ever will love me. I know that.' 'And you love me, Helen. You know that, too.' Yes; I love you!' she cried, passionately. I know that, too.' 'And yet you ask me-' I began, so far off my head as to be going to argue with her. Because this should never have been. All between us must end here, and now.' 'In heaven's name, why?' I broke in, rather mad with this piece of feminine cruelty. Why must it?' 'Frank,' she said, coolly now, 'Frank, this is folly. You know my story. You cannot marry a beggar as I shall be.' 'Nor you, à ce qu'il parait.' Even at that moment I couldn't but admire that truly feminine retort. She went on. 'I? Am I thinking of myself? And yet this is my fault. I knew what has happened must happen. Yes; it is I who have been selfish. I knew it; and I ought-. But-oh! Frank, I knew you loved me; and my loveless life seemed so bitterso bitter! And-' And here she broke down, sobbing. Wyoice's Will. My wilful, passionate darling! She was trying to persuade herself that she was acting nobly and disinterestedly; and, being noways fitted for such self-martyrdom, was failing signally. She ought to have nipped this love of mine sharply in the bud, but lacked the will. And now she was trying to sacrifice it, and her own love, on the shrine of duty-now when she was my own, when she had rested her head upon my breast, when she had given her lips to mine. Now, she had decided that I must not marry a beggar. And, she being inclined to martyrise herself, I must needs be selfish and cruel if I objected to share her crown. Ma foi! They think, these women, there is no such great difference, after all, between the sunlight and the moonlight, the water and the wine, our passions and theirs. If they can crucify a love, why not we? And so my Helen-who was, indeed, my very own-told me I was not to marry a beggar; told me, that, for my sake, our love-story was to end here-in short, told me all a woman tells a man in like case. But she told me, too, by every word and look, unwittingly but unmistakably, that I should be a triple fool if I lost her now-this be-all and end-all of my life; this woman who would make my life worth the living. I didn't repeat my folly of attempting to argue with her. Her hand was strong enough against me as it was without such strengthening. I didn't take her in my arms again, and stifle her feeble special pleading with kisses. I let her say her say. And then, when she had sunk back into the low deep fauteuil weak, and trembling, and defenceless again, I knelt beside her; and, holding fast in mine the little soft hand I never meant to let go. I told her how it must needs fare with me if she had her way. And I was conquering what I knew all along was my own of right; the violet eyes were full of happy tears; the words I looked to hear already trembling on the full lips that had grown meek again, when-there was a rustle of woman's draperies; and, through the chia'oscuro of the room, And Helen rose; and, before I could stay her, had fled away swiftly upon her feet; leaving me to face my lady alone. The which I did as best I might. For a while Lady Oswestry looked grave and judicial; then, by degrees, benignaut but mildly reproachful; when I took my leave, protective and honestly propitious. It was arranged between us that I should come to Park Lane early the next day. At a frightfully undue hour I drove there. A hansom had just pulled up at the door; the late occupant was speaking to the groom just in time to hear the functionary's of the chambers in the hall. I was answer to the question put to him. No, sir. My lady and Mrs. Wybrowe lett town for the Continent last evening.' The other swung round on his heel with a fierce 'carajo!' and again I stood face to face with Alvarez Smith, the man with the evil eye. V. That night, some twenty minutes past eight of the clock, my bansom, turning the Bruton Street corner at a sharp trot, was nearly cut over by another bansom charging furiously down Bond Street. The two drivers exchanged a phemies, flogged their horses clear broadside of double-shotted blasoffending Jehu leading. of each other, and started again, the I was bound for Charing Cross, en route to Dover, Paris, and Lindenbad, in the track of Lady Oswestry and Helen Wybrowe; and, in consequence of this delay, only saved the 8 30 mail-train by about two seconds. Another man, however, ran it closer still. A man in a fur-lined travelling-robe, and a peaked cap pulled over his eyes, took a through ticket to Lindenbad platform, half a dozen yards beafter me, and followed me on to the hind. just as the guard had opened the Wybrowe's Wal. caught me up and got in too. The I had dropped into one corner; me; Besides, that shapeless travellingrobe, and that peaked cap that kept his face in an impenetrable shadow, would have puzzled me, even if I had had a suspicion as to who the man in the opposite corner was. And in the preparations for my sudden departure I had forgotten all about him. So that it was not till he tore off his cap and flung aside his wrapper that I knew that Alvarez Smith and I were alone together in that carriage of the Dover mail-train; and that he was glaring at me with all the furious hate he felt for me in his evil eyes. I looked at him tranquilly enough, I think; but I couldn't help feeling that the rencontre was by no means an agreeable one; that the Express stopped nowhere between London and Dover; and that Alvarez Smith was probably as mad as any inmate of Hanwell. However, I am not easily put off head, and, as I say, returned his glare with a tranquil stare, and went on smoking. Whether he had expected his melodrama to produce more effect, and was disappointed; whether my calmness irritated him afresh, I don't know. Certain it is that he rose and came towards me with an oath. It struck me forcibly that he was dangerous; and I gradually slipped my hand into the inner breastpocket of my travelling-jacket, and unfastened the loop which kept a useful little revolver de poche steady there. There seemed likely to be a neces sity, disagreeable but imperative, It appeared, though, that he had 'So, we are alone at last; you and I.' 'So it seems,' I returned. I saw that, if he meant to have a row, he didn't feel quite up to the mark yet, and wanted to talk himself into the necessary fury; so I thought I might venture to light another cigar; which I did, loosing my grip of the pistol-butt for a moment, but keeping an eye on my man the while. He actually gnashed his yellow He looked so teeth at me. unutterably hideous, and at the same time so intensely ludicrous while he was doing it, that I laughed. Take care!' he screamed, shivering with wrath. You laugh now • let him laugh that wins! Caramba you have not won yet.' 'No?' I inquired, insolently. 'No! curse you! you never shall.' 'Bah! man?' who says so, my good 'I! I have sworn it!' 'You?' I sneered, rather enjoying his fury, and with no mind to spare him any stab I could give him. 'You? You are madder than I thought you were.' 'You shall never Madre de Dios! never! have her! 'You're wrong. I shall.' He smiled in a ghastly fashion with his white, dry lips. 'No,' he said; and if his tone was calmer, it was twice as dangerous' and threatening now. 'No; I shall keep my oath-be sure of that. Listen!' he went on, after a pause, and with that same forced calmness; 'from the day I saw her first, and each day more and more, I have loved her- this woman, who 'Who, from that same day, and each day more and more, has loathed and hated you,' I struck in. Well?' By the light of the lamp above us I could see his yellow face turn the ashen hue of a dead man's, as that cruel taunt of mine hit home. He covered his face with his hands, and uttered a faint, dull moan, as though he had, in very deed, got his death-hurt. Yes; and through those quivering fingers of his, tears, that must have been wrung from him like drops of blood in his agony, forced themselves slowly, one by one. sat there, rocking himself to and fro, saying no word for a while, but making that low moan more than once. lle Thinking this matter over since, I have learnt to pity this man. Thinking of my darling's worn face, and the hunted look he had brought there so often, I was pitiless enough then. I smoked on, watching him. The Express rushed through the falling darkness; the stations flashed out one after another: we had run about half our distance. Presently he spoke again, as though he had only just heard those last words of mine. Yes; she hates me-hates me, who would fling down my life,-lose my salvation for her!' 'I've no doubt. Unfortunately, neither sacrifice happens to be required. Have you anything else to observe?' 'She hates me,' he went on, as though he were talking to himself, and unheeding what I said: 'I could bear that, though it kills me. But to know another man can call her his-to know she loves this man! ah, no!' I was beginning to get rather tired of the thing by this time, so I said 'Don't you think we've had about enough of this? Quite, it seems to me. You've thrust yourself into a matter with which you have no earthly concern (beyond, of course, claiming your forfeit when Mrs. Wybrowe marries again-though whether a law-court will give it you, is, to say the least of it, doubtful), and, as you were rather amusing, I listened to you; now, you bore me; let us drop the subject.' 'Not yet,' he said, with a strange sort of smile; you and I have something more to say to each other. Listen!'-for I was going to interrupt him-'you will give me your word of honour never to see Helen Wybrowe again. It will be better, believe me.' 'Damn your insolence!' I said, fairly angry at this; what do you mean?' 'Remember, you can never marry her; I have sworn it.' 'Bah! You mean you can beggar her? Try it.' 'I mean,' he said, more calmly than he had spoken yet-'I mean that sooner than you should marry Helen Wybrowe I would kill you.' Try that, too, if you like.' 'But you will promise me what I ask? You must. See; we are alone, you and I. You are in my power: nothing can save you if—' He paused here, leaning forward towards me, with his elbows resting on his knees, and his evil eyes looking into mine. I smiled when he said nothing could save me from him; for I had considerable faith in the miniature six-shooter my right hand was closing on while he spoke. 'I knew you would follow her,' he went on. 'I saw you to-night at the station; I was behind you when you took your ticket; and I got in here after you, knowing that the hour I had longed for had come at last-when you and I should be alone, with none to stand between us; when you should swear to mc never to see her face again; or when I should have your life.' He ground the last three words out between his teeth with ferocious emphasis. The crisis was evidently approaching: the madman could hardly contain himself much longer. In another minute he might be at my throat; and then, disagreeable as it would be, I should inevitably have to shoot him. Alvarez Smith was by no means the sort of person to stand on much ceremony with when the instincts he inherited from that Spanish Creole of a mother of his were in the ascendant; and it |