Pictures and the Picturegoer (October 1915 - March 1916)

\\ i ik ENDING Nov. 6, 1915 109 PIC I URES AM) THE PIC I •• ., >rR Diana felt shy al fiv t . bnt the other ■ experienced and diplomatic methods oi steering the conversation led her to ■peak of herself. His interest grew, and .1 be neared I' iBtinatiou be remarked gallantly ■ Bj ■ like j ours w ei-e not made t< 1 I00V at convent walls." Monsieur," protested Diane weakly. ' Bha II 1 Dot see you again !J " persisted the young man. " Monsieur, I do not know j on" replied Diane torn between Iter fears and per desire to knew more of this the first man to cross her path. " 1 shall tell yon to-morrow night. I implore you, To-morrowat this time by the rock." 3e took her band, kissed it. but |the girl drew it away with an embarrassed movement, and Bed, A.s she neared her home >lm turned coqtiettishly. The man Btood motionless and was gazing after her. Diane ran indoors with flushed cheeks, and a spai Scle in her eyes. She went out avain the next night, ami was not surprised to see the figure of her new-found acquaintance emerge from the shadow of the rock. This was the first of many meet ings. The yonng man admitted that he was a member of an aristocrat family, ami that he had come to this fishing village of Narbonne to inquire into the management of some of his property in the district. Wlu n his business was complete he would return t<> Pajvis, and lie hinted that he hoped he would not return alone. The glamour of moonlight is danus sometimes, and Diane realised that she really knew very little about the stranger. She railed him " Monsieur le chevalier." and he did not offer to add anything to the name. One night he came and told her he would be leaving Narbonne on the morrow and return to Paris. He placed a box containing a string of pearls in her hand, and Diane experienced a suffocating sensation. " When will you come lor me?" asked Diane, almost in a whiB] The young man hesitated. "Well. n.'t just yet." he began; but the girl with her eyes flashing with diabolical a Hirer, continued quickly : "Then you never meant to marry me." The other remained silent, and eyed the stretch of beach dividing the distance between himself and the little chateau. It was evident he was anxious to b'oiV. With a gesture of scorn the girl threw the pearl necklace on the sand. " I gave yon everything." she cried hoarsely. " and you give me these! " The man looked shamefaced and embarrassed. He had no defence, and turned his steps hesitatingly away. "When twenty yards away he turned for a moment, and saw that the girl had thrown herself on the sand in a parow.-m of agony, and was sobbing as though her heart would break. For a second he hesitated, touched by momentary remorse, then, shrugging his shoulders again, continued on his way. » * * * A month later Cora May lay dying in a hospital, experiencing' the fate attendant on careers such as her. Her good looka hid deparl d j bacLgraduallj descended from wealth to CI unfoi I and t hen fr. >iu e. .ml', irl : lute poverty. She hoi regul irlj kept iii» 'he payments for her daughl I iid and educat i. in without iel I Diane know of her ident ii \ hut 1 iced with death, she realised that her daughter would now have to rely on hei own re> sour. tea nid this idea embittered her thoughts, On this day the Duchess of Clun] was miking her weekly visit of eharil.\ to the hospital, and, on Beeins 1 h ■ anxious fa. !' t lie I ■!! •' famed w • •man, drew near and tendered her BJ nip it lis < '. ira pleaded for her daughter Dia " 1 would die COUtenl . .Madame, if I knew my little daughter had a protector!" "Perhaps 1 can do something." replied the Duchess, tenderly. The dying woman poured her t roubles into the other's sympathetic ear. and when the interview Was over Corn Maj Diane obtained Permission to t. i:\vi; the Convent for a Holiday. looked more peaceful, for the Duchess had promised to look after Diane. "Madame," said Cora at parting, "when I am gone tell my little Diane how 1 loved her." A week later the Duchess, accompanied by her cousin. Lieutenant Dodd, of the American Navy, paid a visit to the Convent de Sacre Cceur, and for the first time Diane learned of her mother's identity, and the fact that she would now leave the convent and take the place of a daughter to the childless Duchess. Lieutenant Dodd, who had accompanied his cousin with the curious desire to see what the inside of a convent was like, found, to his amusement, that while the Duchess was allowed inside he was very religiously kept waiting outside. When he saw his cousin emerge with one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen be opened his ■ ni'-iit II • h id III but en nintered .1 w< unan \ i -1 iv eyei and beautiful i ice might ll I '. e be|, ,:\y ,|,,. lb i ked le her. anxioi rtain if a 1 vent hi 1 -I 1 1 nly p harbouring this jewel, hut the girl returned hi tef an n era t 0 bis qui be fell haffl id al the enigma. The trio travelled to rai is and drove rapid lj to the Duchess's residence, i thej drove up, the Duke of Cluny, wh.. playfully tolerated his wife's charitable expeditions, and bad "heard of this particular episode, was awaiting the Duchess < >:i he u ing the rati le of t lie horses' hoofs, he walkod to the window and looked out. The three cmei from the coach, and on seeing them the Pnke's face t urned suddenly pale. " Mon Dieu ! it is the gii 1 • t bourn p. ir ~e\ eral moment a he st< k • I rooted to the ground. What an extraordinary fate i bal t be girl w ith n hora be bad tntled should beeome bis wife's prottgi, and a guest in his own house ! Ii seemed as though destiny had chosen to mock him. Something must be done imi diately. Hurrying to the smoking. room, 1 pi led t he d ■. and found Ei ■ his joy that his old friend Favereau, whom he had always , suited in troubles, was awaiting him. Fa i hi." commenced the Duke excitedly, "you remember my telling you of my experiences at Narbonne w hen 1 was down then' about -i\ weeks ago I had done a terrible tiling, and you know the whole bietory. Now an traordinary thing has happened. .My wife Hehn has adopted this girl, and she is now in the bouse, What on i arth is to be done P " Old Favereau looked grave. "It is a very serious situation ind I "You know what will happen. Favereau. if I confess to my wife." continued the Duke. • 1 lose her love and respect for ever. "Then you must lie, for your wife's sake," replied Favereau at last. " It is the lesser evil, and you must choose one or the other. Yon must be cruel to the girl, or to Helen." " I will arrange that your first meeting in this house with the girl will uol be in your wife's presence," continue,! the diplomatic Favereau. "She will then be trade to understand that the unfortunate adventure must be forgotten-." It was difficult for Favereau to arrange it, but he kept the Duke cut of the way until the evening. Seeing the girl alone for a moment, lie invited her into the drawing-room a minute after the Duke had entered it. The Duke. looking pale but collected, nerved himself for the ordeal. As Diane entered the room Favereau considerately turned his head aside, lb' certainly did not like the job. but. as he said, it was a choice of two evils. Diane advance 1 into the room ju-t a the Duke turned his face towards her. For several moments there was a tense silence, and then a girl's choking'. whispered : " Monsieur le Chevalie