The Forbidden Way. Gibbs George

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      "No, no, no," she murmured. "It is not true. You must not. I did not mean – what I said, you misunderstood – "

      "Once I misunderstood. I won't make the same mistake again. It was I who found you there, parching in the desert, and taught you how to grow – who showed you that life was something more than the barren waste you had found it. Won't you forgive me? I was a fool – and worse. Look up at me, Camilla, dear. You were mine out there before you were his. At least a half of what Jeff Wray has stolen from me – your spiritual side – "

      At the sound of her husband's name she raised her head and looked up at him in a daze. He caught her again madly, and his lips even brushed her cheek, but she started from his arms and sped the length of the room away from him.

      "Camilla!"

      "No, no. You must not." She stood facing him, wildly pleading. "Don't come near me, Cort. Is this the way you are going to try to forget – the way you will teach me to forget?"

      "I didn't know then – I want you, Camilla – "

      As he came forward she retreated to the door of the library and put her hand on the knob. She did not hear the soft patter of feet on the other side.

      "Then I must go," she said decisively.

      He stopped, looked at her blankly, then turned away.

      "I suppose you're right," he said quietly. "Forgive me. I had almost forgotten."

      He slowly paced the room away from her and, his head in his hands, sank in a distant chair. He heard her sharp sigh and the sound of her footsteps as she gathered courage and came forward. But he did not move, and listened with the dull ears of a broken man from whom all hope has departed.

      "It is going to be harder than I thought. I hoped at least that I could keep what was in my heart a secret. When my secret was my own it did not seem as if I was doing any injustice to – to Jeff. It was my heart that was breaking – not his. What did my secrets matter as long as I did my duty? But now that you share the burden I know that I am doing him a great wrong – a greater wrong even than he has done to you. I can't blame you for coming here. It is hard to forgive a wrong like that. But with me it is different. No matter what Jeff has done, what he may do, my duty is very clear – my duty to him, and even to you. I don't know just how – I must have time to think it out for myself. One thing is certain: I must not see you again."

      He waved a hand in deprecation. "That is so easy to say. You shall see me again," he threatened. "I will not give you up."

      "You must! I will find some excuse to leave New York."

      "I'll follow you," doggedly. "You're mine."

      She paused in dismay. Were all the odds to be against her? A sudden terror gripped her heart and left her supine. She summoned her strength with an effort.

      "Cort!" she cried desperately. "You must not speak to me like that. I will not listen. You don't know what you are saying."

      "I don't care what I'm saying – you have driven me mad." As he rose, she retreated, still facing him, her lips pale, her eyes bright, her face drawn but resolved.

      "And I," she said clearly, "I am sane again. If you follow – I will ring. Do you hear?"

      Her hand sought the wall, then was arrested in mid air. A sound of voices, the ringing of a bell, and the soft patter of a servant's steps in the corridor brought Cortland Bent to his senses.

      "It's Jeff," she whispered breathlessly; and then with a quiet air of self-command, the dignity of a well-bred hostess, "Will you sit down, Mr. Bent? I will ring for tea."

      In the shadowed doorway a tall figure stood.

      "Why, Jeff," said Camilla coolly, "you're early, aren't you? I thought – "

      She rose as she realized that the gentleman in the doorway wore a frock coat – a garment Jeff affected to despise – and that the hair at his temples was white. "I beg your pardon," she murmured.

      The gentleman smiled and came forward into the room with outstretched hand.

      "I am General Bent. Is this Mrs. Wray? Your husband is coming along."

      Jeff entered from the corridor at this moment. "Hello, Camilla! The General was kind enough to say he wanted to meet you, so he brought me uptown in his machine."

      The eyes of both newcomers fell on Cortland Bent, who emerged from the shadow.

      "Why, Cort! You here?" said the General, and if his quick tones showed slight annoyance, his well-bred accents meant only polite inquiry.

      "Yes, dad. How do you do, Mr. Wray?"

      Wray went over and took him by the hand.

      "Well! well!" said Wray heartily. "This is sure like old times. Glad to see you, Bent. It seems like only yesterday that you and Camilla were galloping over the plains together. A year and a half has made some changes, eh? Camilla, can't we have a drink? One doesn't meet old friends every day."

      "I rang for tea."

      "Tea? Ugh! Not tea, Camilla. I can't get used to these foreign notions. General – Cort – some Scotch? That's better. Tea was invented for sick people and old maids," and then, as the servant entered, "Tell Greer to bring the tray, and some cigars. You'll let us, won't you, Camilla? General Bent and I have been talking for two hours, and if there's any thirstier business than that – "

      "I hope we aren't intruding," said the General. "I have been very anxious to meet you, Mrs. Wray."

      "I'm very much flattered. I'm afraid, though, that Jeff has taken you out of your way." She paused, conscious that the sharp eyes of the old man were peering at her curiously from under the shadows of his bushy eyebrows. "I feel as if I ought to know you very well," she went on. "In the West your son often spoke of you."

      "Did he? H – m!" And then, with a laugh, "Cortland, my boy, what did you say to her? You expected to see an old ogre, didn't you?"

      "Oh, no, but you are different from the idea I had of you. You and your son are not in the least alike, are you?"

      "No. You see Cortland took the comeliness of the Davidges, and I – well, I won't tell you what they call me in the Street," he laughed grimly. "You know Mr. Wray and I have some interests in the West in common – some properties that adjoin, and some railroads that join. It's absurdly simple. He wants what I have, and I want what he has, and neither of us is willing to give up a square inch. Won't you tell us what to do?"

      "I give it up," she laughed. "My husband has a way of getting what he wants."

      "The great secret of that," said Wray comfortably, "is wanting what you can get. Still, I don't doubt that when the General's crowd gets through with me there won't be enough of me to want anything. You needn't worry about the 'Lone Tree,' Cortland. You'll have it again, after a while, when my hide is spread out to dry."

      General Bent's eyes vanished under his heavy brows.

      "No," he said cryptically. "It looks as though the fruit of the 'Lone Tree' was forbidden."

      CHAPTER V

      DINERS OUT

      When СКАЧАТЬ