A Heart-Song of To-day | Page 4

looking up into her face, he said in thick tones.
"Have you no pity for me?"
"None, you have crossed my path, you have clouded my sky."
Had she pity for him, fool that he was to ask. Has the owner of the favourite at Goodwood pity for the jockey who swoons in a death-sickness, causing the next to come in a head's length? Has the eagle pity for the young mother's wail for her babe as he carried it aloft to feed the young? No, she told herself she had spoiled him, allowing him the entree to her presence for the past seven or eight years at will. She cared for him too for his bold, fierce, passionate nature, that is--in a way, if only he would not insist on monopoly, but she would be willing to barter one clasp of the hand, one look from the eyes of gay, genial, handsome, fascinating Captain Trevalyon for the total banishment of her bold wooer.
"I have crossed your path, clouded your sky, and is this all the comfort you give me for years of devotion?" he said slowly, and in a broken voice. "Crossed your path because my love lives, while yours for me is dead; crossed your path, clouded your sky, because I am constant and wish to have you for my wife; wish to keep you in my arms. Lincoln Tompkins never knew; our world never knew; crossed your path? By the stars, Kate, I will not give you up!" And there is a sudden fierceness in his tones, while his breath comes hard and fast. "Crossed your path? 'tis Trevalyon who has again crossed mine. Gad! how I hate him." And he set his teeth. "To think, too, that with your high spirit, you should plead to him for his love."
"George Delrose, dare to repeat one word of a conversation you played the sneak to listen to, and you shall come to grief."
And she started to her feet, receding several paces from him in rage and mortification.
"Kate, dear, forgive me," and he is beside her; and strong man that he is, he holds her by force in his arms until she is still.
"It is my love for you that maddens me. My queen, my beauty, come back to me. Give your thoughts to me--you must, you shall."
"What shall I do with him?" she thought. "I love the other man, but if I cannot win him, I shall gratify my ambition by marrying Haughton Hall, and in petting my idol gratify myself; and so to pet my old love until it's all over."
And now puss begins to purr.
"There, George dear, I give in; you leave no room for other fetters than your arms. Let me go."
"Yes, my beauty, in a minute. You have been so cold to me of late, I am famished. You will only marry me, Kate, only me. Say yes, dear; Haughton would never suit you. But I cannot speak calmly of him or of any other man in connection with yourself."
And he grew again fearfully excited.
"As for that fellow, Trevalyon, the club gossips have it that for years he has had a hidden wife, and, depend upon it, it's true, these curled darlings generally do that sort of trick."
"Stop; I may turn this to my future advantage," thought Kate, quickly; "let me go, George, and you may sit beside me. There, that is better. I wonder if this story is true; I remember you told it me at New York as false; but I dare say at that time, not being jealous of him, you were, after the manner of men, letting him down easily. Yes, we shall take it for granted it is true. He is handsome enough to have got into some matrimonial scrape ere now."
"I am regaining my old influence over her," thought simple Simon.
"Listen, George, a minute longer; you have seen this Miss Vernon, Vaura Vernon, niece to Colonel Haughton. Describe her."
"Hang it, Kate! Leave the Haughton connection alone," he said, jealously. "Talk about ourselves."
"I am just starving for a kind word."
"Which you won't get till I please. What makes you here? Just think of that, and then say would any other woman be as kind. Now run over the Vernon charms, if any."
"When she will, she will," he said sulkily. "I have only seen her in the 'row' and that once, she was ahead of me so I did not see her face, but she sat her horse well and her figure is perfect. I overheard Wingfield at the 'Russell' club rooms, telling Chaucer of the Guards (who is wild to meet her) that there is nothing to compare with her in the kingdom, that she is a perfect goddess. Now are you satisfied.
"Yes, yes; let me think a minute."
"Just the woman to