The Lamp of Fate

ce more. As she took it from him he noticed that those thin, angular arms of hers seemed to close round the little swaddled body in an almost jealously possessive clasp. But there was none of the ten

his absorption, did he hear the whimpering cry-almost of protest-that

it by the stupendous, nullifying fact that his wife had given birth to a daughter. Then, wit

st year of his marriage-seemed to din in his ears anew. Such phrases as "selling your soul," "putting a woman of that type in o

inst his conscience-satisfied his desi

hion if God thought so too. What was it Catherine had said

o his own shoes, and failing an heir in the direct line of succession the title and entailed estate would of necessity go to Rupert Vallincourt, a cousin-a gay and debonair young rake of much charm of manner and equal ab

d for eight successive generations-appeared to Hugh in the light of a direct manifestation of God's intention that no s

an inherited tradition of right-doing which was bound to assert itself in succeeding generations. Whereas in the offspring of Diane heave

ding compensation in the glowing moments of his passion for Diane. Nevertheless-since living in an atmosphere of disapproval tends to fray the strongest nerves-his te

tandpoint as Catherine saw it, and in the unlooked-for birth of a daughter he thought he recognised the Hand of God, sternly uprooti

ment against his wife. Words from an old Book

d he but realised it-he was already looking for someone with whom to share the blame for his lapse from the Vallincourt standa

a blank period of suspense, the little quiet clicking of the latch cut almost

it?" he

contemplative curiosity in her eyes. They might have held surprise as well as curiosity had she not lately stood beside th

ne hates me. Yes, she does, she does! And she'll make you hate me too! But you won't hat

g off at last in the silence of exhaustion, and an impulse of indign

Hugh. She ought to rest now, but she is

plied rebuke in the last sent

risp starched figure up the stairs and into a hal

se raised the blind a little, and the light of the westering sun fell across the pill

ice from the b

ife. Probably never had D

y the holy suffering of motherhood, and the face of the "foreign dancing-woman," born and bred in a qu

and, her lips curving into a smile

-mon

drew her into his arms she let her head fall back again

gh stung, and his eyes left his wife's face and riveted themselves upon the figure in the low chair by

s exquisite moment of reunion with his wife. Insensibly his arms relaxed their clasp of the f

back to his face, searched it wildly. Instantly she knew the

her voice, leaving it dry and toneless. "Hugh! Yo

held him back. The old, narrow creed in which he had been reared, whose shackles he had broken through when he had recklessly followed the bidding of hi

ken your punishment

ion of the issues of right and wrong. He had sinned, and both he and the woman for whose sake he had defied his own creed, and that of his fathers before him, must make atonemen

that the child is a girl. I a

austed, from woman's supreme conflict with death. But the fanatic loses sight of normal values, and Hugh, obsessed by his newly conce

way through the Valley of the Shad

?" she repea

rriage-our

reath cam

sleeve. "Oh, you're not going to be like Catherine? Say you're not! Hugh, you've always said she was crazy to call our marriage a

I wanted to think it," he returned remors

herself up o

e made no answer: "Hugh, you're frightening me! What

colour appeared on either cheek. Old Virginie

xcite

d to leave

his another time

d her head

ow! Don't

hrew one glance at the patient, huddled flushed and excited against the pillows, then without more ado she mar

ed in a low voice of concentrated anger. "I

nd her, and Hugh found himself stand

e she was dangerously ill, but at last the combined efforts of doctor and nurse restored h

lity. When the fever which had ensued abated, she described the whole scene in detail to Virginie a

est, to take part in this deception. The doctor,

allincourt-salving your own fool conscience at you

," protested Hugh.

s more or less used to the odd vagaries of human nature, bu

f thunder have you been

hate her," declar

orted the other.

ot impo

tered during the last few weeks-altered incredibly. He was a stone lighter to start with, and his blond, clear

love her because I can't help myself. I hate her because I ought never to

acred," suggested

ed not to

nce to go on, Lancaster

pret

is changed-nothing altered

at, after all, there wil

h was ineffectual. Hugh loo

. "I've made my decision-laid down the lines of our future life together. I'm only waiting till

health that you can brea

rey eyes gleam

r my question?"

ter sp

as ever she was," he said violen

ther members of the household, and it was with almost the excitement of a schoolgirl coming home for the holidays that, when she was at last released from the doctor's supervision, she retook possession of her

the dressing-table. Instead of holding its usual array of silver-backed brushes and polished shaving tackle, winking in the sunshine, it was empty. She stared at it blankly. Then her glance tr

m and torn open the doors of the great armoire where Hugh kept his clothes. This, too, was empty-shelves and hanger ali

er with the veiled cu

y Sir Hugh's o

am? Or had it been an actual happening-that terrible little scene with her husband when, standing rigid and unbending b

d been times when Diane-rebuked incessantly-had fancied she must be the Scarlet Woman herself, or at least a very near relative. And then had come moments when Hugh, carried away by his ardour, had once more played the

f struggle, as though Hugh loved her in spite of himself, in d

ping away from what had been his room of every familiar little personal poss

or had closed behind her she flew downstairs to her husband's study and, not pausing to comply with the unwritten law which fo

ia

th a cold light of astonis

n't like to be

pened. There's been a mistake. . . . Hugh, they've

dark eyes fixed on his face, two patches of brilliant colour showi

nch of her; he, immaculate and composed, his face coldly expressionless, yet with a hint of something warmer, a suppressed glow, be

aring at me like that!" Diane'

ke, very slowl

ulpable mistake. Catherine realised it from the beginning. I only realise my full guilt now that I am punished. But whatever I ca

she had seen his dismantled room she had known, known surely, that the lon

What are you going to do? You're not

ght to punish you. You've

being myself," she

"So I alone am to blame. You will retain your position here as my wife-mistress of my home." Diane, remembering Cat

endurance in his voice, and s

truth." She spoke gently, pleadingly. "Don't do this thing. We've

was imp

't wrong to love-but somet

to him, and laid h

she whispered. "No

sile

, his eyes ablaze, his

easy to decide on this? When every fibre of

do it! Hug

lence he caught

ll make my penance, accept the burden laid

esisting his attempt

. . . Dear, some day there may

er from hi

a son of ours! Never!

the ecstasy of the martyr embracing the stake to which he shall

ase go? That is my las

tingly towards the

ug

her voice. Her eyes were those o

he repeated

She stepped blindly forward. The next moment the