Part 23 (1/2)

For a second neither spoke He saw the soft mobile face touched to its finest Felicia's eyes were violet and large, and their expression at the moment pierced him with its appeal

”Don't you see?” she whispered Her voice broke here Her hands treold rattled on the floor and rolled under the divan She swayed and Bulstrode caught her

” Ever since you came to the mill,” she whispered, ”ever--since--you--came--to--the--mill”

Before Bulstrode had time to realize what she said, or the fact that his arm was about her, she had rushed across the rooone out on the balcony Left alone hat her words io

The clock on the h the openca sound of the sea on the beach The day was breaking and Bulstrode could see the white figure of Felicia Warren between the lighted room and the dawn

He told himself that there was no reason why he should look upon her as anything but an adventuress--and a very clever one--a very dangerous one But, at all events, there _was_ no doubt that she was Felicia Doan She refused his money, and she told him that she loved him But Jimmy Bulstrode,those lines Whether because he was vain, as most men are, or because he was susceptible as he always told hi the week at Trouville, when she should have been absorbed in Polonna, Bulstrode had caught her eyes fastened upon himself and as soon as she had met his own she had turned hers away He had no difficulty now in recalling the Mill on the Rose, or the lovely bit of country where his shooting-box had held hi season Nor had he any difficulty in recalling the hter Felicia even then had been a wonder of good looks, and very intelligent and mature He could even see her as a child more plainly than he could recall the woirl and--she had deeply charmed him He had walked with her under the s; he had told herwith her on the Rose; he had tralish lanes

Of course he had been wrong He had known it at the time--he had known it And perhaps one reason why he never reverted willingly to the days spent with the girl was because his conscience had not left hiiven to Doan, Bulstrode had always felt, was a sort of recoht Even at the tiirl's peace, and because he had not wished to disturb his own, he had given up his lease and left the place Twelve years! Well, they had altered her enormously, and her life had altered her and her experiences, and she was a very char creature She was, in a measure, his very oork--ale her station, to alter her life What had she become?

Bulstrode's reflections consuarette and walked up and down the deserted rooold lay scattered

Finally--he did not dare to trust hio out to her--he called her naently, and she came directly in

Whilst alone on the balcony she had wept Bulstrode could see the trace on her cheeks and she was paler even than when he had struck the pistol froardens of the Casino She came over to where he stood and said:

”It's not a ruse, Mr Bulstrode Girls like me always have ideals It is fame with some, money with others, dress and a social craze for a lot of them But withyou said to o I have remembered

Silly as it seems, I could almost tell the very words I have seen a lot of men since, too many,” she said, ”and known them too well But I have never seen anybody like you”

Bulstrode tried to stop her

”But no,” she pleaded, ”let reat, and that some day you would see o crazy about ht this really, and I have lived for it, really--until--until----”

As he did not question her or interrupt, she went on:

”I said it was an ideal Thinking of you and what I'd like to grow for you kept --and I fancy you know in ood”

Here Felicia Warren met his eyes frankly with the saht have met his eyes under the s near her father's mill

”I've been so horribly afraid that when you _did_ cos you would not like that I have been awfully hard onher slender fingers as she talked

”I went to Paris this spring because I saw that you were there, and after passing you several tie you were just the sa, for you, and being the best I knew It seems awfully queer to hear a woman talk like this to a man,” she understood it herself--”but you see I a in public and I suppose it is easier for er than anything else to knohat her life had really been, surprised and incredulous at everything she said, broke in here:

”But this--this man?”

”Oh, Pollona,” she replied, ”has been there for years, for years He has loved me ever since I firstI have never looked at any of theh as if she renounced all her drearew tired of my romantic folly I was ill and nervous and could not play any more, and that was dreadful So, when Pollona caave hi to Trouville for the Grande Ses over and that I would send him word”

She picked up her handkerchief froloves and her cloak and twisted the delicate object in her hands, whose whiteness and transparency Bulstrode remarked They were clever hands, and showed her te for one born in the state of life from which she had coave in--I gave in at last”

”Why,” Bulstrode asked abruptly, ”did he leave you?”