Part 9 (1/2)

”Good morning, Frank. You are early to-day. And what a bad temper you seem to be in!” exclaimed a laughing voice; and Mrs. Norton, looking radiant and delightfully cool in a thin white Madras muslin dress, entered the room.

He went to her.

”They're sending me away, Violet,” he said.

”Sending you away?” she repeated in an astonished tone. ”Sending you where?”

”To h.e.l.l, I think,” he cried. ”Oh, I beg your pardon. I mean--yes, they're sending me away from Rohar, from you. Sending me to the other side of India.”

The blood slowly left her face as she stared uncomprehendingly at him.

”Sending you away? Why?” she asked.

”Because--because we're friends, little girl.”

”Because we're friends,” she echoed. ”What do you mean? But you mustn't go.”

”I must. I can't help it. I've got to go.”

Pale as death Violet stared at him.

”Got to go? To leave me?”

Then with a choking cry she threw her arms about his neck and sobbed.

”You mustn't. You mustn't leave me. I can't live without you. I love you. I love you. I'll die if you go from me.”

Frank started and tried to hold her at arm's length to look into her face. But the woman clung frenziedly to him, while convulsive sobs shook her body. His arms went round her instinctively and, holding her to his breast, he stared blankly over the beautiful bowed head. It was true, then. She loved him. Without meaning it he had won her heart. He whose earnest wish it had been to save her from pain, to console her, to brighten her lonely life, had brought this fresh sorrow on her. To the misery of a loveless marriage he had added a heavier cross, an unhappy, a misplaced affection. No exultant vanity within him rejoiced at the knowledge that, unsought, she had learned to care for him. Only regret, pity for her, stirred in him. He was aware now as always that his feeling for her was not love. But she must not realise it. He must save her from the bitter mortification of learning that she had given her heart unasked. His must have been the fault; he it must be to bear the punishment. She should never know the truth. He bent down and reverently, tenderly, kissed the tear-stained face--it was the first time that his lips had touched her.

”Dearest, we will go together. You must come with me,” he said.

Violet started and looked wildly up at him.

”Go with you? What do you mean? How can I?”

”I mean that you must come away with me to begin a new life--a happier one--together. I cannot leave you here with a man who neglects you, who does not appreciate you, who cannot understand you.”

”Do you mean--run away with you?” she asked.

”Yes; it is the only thing to do.”

She slowly loosed her clasp of him and released herself from his arms.

”But I don't understand at all. Why are you going? And where?”

He briefly told her what had happened. His face flushed darkly as he repeated the Colonel's words.

”'He wouldn't have an officer like me under his command,' he said. He treated me like a criminal. I don't value his opinion much. But Major Hepburn agrees with him. That hurts. I respect him.”

”But where is this place they're sending you to?” she asked.

”Ranga Duar? I don't know. Eastern Bengal, I believe.”