VICTOR'S TRIUMPH.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 260, 7 November 1906, Page 10

VICTOR'S TRIUMPH.

CHAPTER XXI. AT THE PARSONAGE. ] Mr Lyle lived in a. pretty white i cottage, covered nearly to the roof with fragrant creeping vines, and standing in "I* the. midst of a beautiful flower garden. Here lie lived his bachelor life quite " alone, but for the. occasional sight of .. the. old negro couple that were waiting , on him—Aunt Nancy who did all his housework., aud Uncle Xcd. who worked , in the garden. ! - Ho found the faithful old couple pre- j pared to receive him and his guest. s A tempting repast, combining the attractions of dinner find tea. was ready ( to be placed upon the table just as soon ( as the. gentlemen should have made their toilets after their long journey. .Mr Lyle led his guest into a fresh, \ pretty room, with white muslin curtains < at the vine-dad windows, and a white dimity spTead on the bed., and white flower enamelled cottage furniture completing the appointment) s . "This is a room for a. pretty girl rather than for a grim miner. , ' said Victor Hartinan, looking admiringly around the little apartment. "1 call it the 'Chamber of Peace.' ' and that is why I put you in it," said Mr Lyle. After they had—washed and dressed ; they went down together to the cosy little dining-room, where they did such justice to the. tea-dinner as made Aunt Nancy's heart crow for joy. And when that was over they went into the snug little, parlour and sat down to talk over their plans. It was then that Mr Lyle informed Victor Hartman that lie was doing all the work of the parish during Dr. Goodwin 1 ;; hopeless indisposition, and that he had been doing it for the last twelve months. "You will succeed him here as rector. I presume,"' said Victor. "1 presume so: but I do not like, to epeak of that,"' gravely replied Mr Lyle.' "No. of course you do not. And I to,illy beg- your pardon. 1 should not have spoken myself, only in my girl's interests. You see. I feel a little curious and anxious to know where her future life would be likely to be passed, ami I thought it would be a much happier life if passed here, near her dear friend Miss Cavendish, that's all,"' explained VietoT. "You seem to consider that quite a settled matter," replied Mr Lyle. a lit-, lie incoherently, and blushing like a maiden. "Yes. of course, I consider it quite settled. You. in your earnestness, cannot conceal your liking for my girl, and she. in her innocent frankness, does not oven try to conceal hers for you. Aud T heartily approve the match., and am ready to dower the bride," said Victor "But I have not ventured to speak to her yet," stammered Mr Lyle. •"Then you may do so just as soon as you please." answered Victor. "And now about Aldcn," said Mr Lyle. by way of changing the conversation. •Yes, now about Alden. He does not suspect that I am his banker. I hope?" "No. indeed. I paid him over the imiuiiice.nt sum. you intrusted to mc for him. He feels—well. I may say painfully grateful, and is confident that he must some time repay you, with interest and compound interest." "Yes, my boy will certainly repay mc, but not iii the way he thinks,"' observed Victor gravely. "After a week's visiting with hia sister at Blue Cliffs, he will go up to Richmond and select a site for his office, and purchase his law library, though I think lie will have to go to Philadelphia to do that." "Yes, 1 suppose he will," admitted Hartman. •'What are your own plans about yourself, Victor, if I may be allowed to iiskr" inquired the minister. "Well. I haven't any. 1 came on here io sec my boy and girl, and settle them in life as well as I can. I shall stay till ] do that, any way. After that. I don't know what I shall do. J do not care about going back to California. My business is there in the hands of a capable and trustworthy agent. And i-otnehow I like the old mother State; and now that you lead mc to think about it. perhaps 1 shall spend the rest of my lifr here: but. as I said before. T don't know." "By tlie way, dear Victor, you spoke to mo with much simple frankness of my most private personal affairs. May I take the same liberty with yours?" inquired Mr. Lyle very seriously. "Why. of course you may., if you call it a liberty, which [ don't, you kno\v," an-wered Victor witli a smile. "Then, my dear Hartman, how about Miss Elcctra? T was not so absorbed in my own interests as not to have an cyp to yours." "Ali. Miss Klech-a! Well, parson, she was my little old acquaintance, of Ratalley, when .1 flourished in that fragrant neighbourhood as 'Galley Vick." " "No!" exclaimed Mr. Lyle. opening his eyes wide with astonishment. •■yes." quietly answered Victor Hartman. "And it is a wonder that you. who know the family so well, do not know 1 his episode in its history.' , "How was .1 to know, n>y friend, when no one ever told mc? 1 suppose that few ov none but the family know ■anything about it."' "I suppose you an , righi."' said Victor. "Well, you see. she recognised mc, as surely as f did h°r, at, first sight. We had an explanation ;is we walked out to the university that day." "But how came the m rand-daughter of Dr. Bcrcsford ,lone.H ever to have had such, a miserable* childhood?" "Well, you s<m\ Ihorc was ; , disobedient daughter, a, runaway marriage, a profligate husband, and the consequence? — poverty, destitution, early death, and an orphan child lr-ft, amour; beggars and thip-Ps! Her grandfather found her at last, and took her under | us KU ardian■W! v th ° in brief." Jith hta head on hia breast; then raising ti'cJ: k tO thC qUCSL'What about Miss Elcctra?" puivT t ; T -"- usttoldyouaboutil----rr!101101101l 0 It 7CS ' J know - You told mc «J«*h,ng .a*out her. but you nJ.fhf (1 ° J ' OU mpan?- ' foqui'red Hartman. m Kome embarrassment: m ,.,L y ' you and y° m ]itUe "Id actruaintance se o m to bo very fond of each Victor laujjhed 5 n an cmbwflwwd

SEQUEL TO "A BEAUTIFUL BENfc"

BY MRS. EMMA D. %. 2J. SOOTHWORTEL

'"Do you know that when we were in Xat-alley, and she was a tiny child and was a lad,, there was a promise of mar■iage between us?" "That was funny, too. Well, what ibout it ?" "Nothing. Only, if I dared, I would ; ome day remind her of it." '"Do, Victor. Believe rue. she will not iffect to have forgotten it," said Mr. Lyle earnestly. "Ah! but when I think of all I have passed through 1 dare, not ask a beautiful and happy girl to unite her bright lie with my blackened one. 1 dare not," ;aid Hartman, very sadly. "Nonsense. Victor! You are morbid )n that subject. Yours is a nobly releetned life; , said Mr. Lyle. solemnly. "But—my past?" , sighed Victor. ''She had a dark past, too, poor child. But no more of that. In both your ''Let the (lead past buvy its dead. Live — lire in the living present, Heart within and Hod o'erbeud!" And now it is time to retire, dear Victor. We l«?ep early hours here/ said MY. Lyle. as he reached down (he Bible from its shelf, preparatory to commencing svening service. Then they read the Word together, and offered up their prayers and thankslivings together, and retired, strengthened. . This week, to which Alden Lytton's holiday visit to Blue Cliff's was limited, was passed by the young people in a succession of innocent entertainments. First there was a garden party and dance at Blue Cliff Hall, at which all the young frieojils and acquaintances of Miss Cavendish assisted, which the Rev. Dr. Jones and the Rev. M. Lyle eudorsed by their presence, and in which even Victor Hartman forgot, for the time being, his own dark antecedents. Next Mr. Lyle himself opened bis bachelor heart and bachelor home to the young folks by giving them a tea party. whjicii (flighted the hearts of Aunt Xancy and I'ncle Ned, who both declared that this looked somethino- like life. But the third and greatest event of the Meek took place on Friday evening. when Dr. Beresford Jones gave a great house-warming parly, on the ocea,-i«n of his carrying homo his granddaughter and sole heiress, Klectra Coroni. Xot only all our young friends, including the reverend clergy and the California miner, but all the neighbourhood and all the country were there. And they kept up the festivities all clay, and well into the night. Emma Cavendish and Laura Lytton remained with Electra for a few days only, for Aldeu Lytton was to'leave the neighbourhood for Richmond, on the Monday morning following the party at Beresford Manors. And during all this time no word was heard of Mary (Jrey. That baleful woman had heard all that had passed at Charlottesville and at Wendover, and her vain and jealous spirit was tilled with such mortification and rage that she was now hiding herself and deeply plotting the ruin of those who had been her best friends and benefactors.

CHAPTER XXII. MOKE MANOEUVRES OF MRS GREY.

When Mary Grey reached Richmond slip went first to ;i quint family hotel, whore she engaged a room for a. fewdays. Then she took r< carriage and drove to the rectory of old St. John's Church, and presented her letter to tfie rector. The reverend p;entlein;in received her very kindly and cordially, and glanced over her letter, saying , , as he returned it to her: " But this was not at all necessary, my dear madam. I remember you perfectly, as a regular attendant and communicant of this church, while you were on a visit to the family of the late lamented governor of this State." "Yew. air; but then I was only a visitor at the church, just as I was a guest at the Government House. Now 1 wish to be a member of the church, as I intend to become a permanent resident of the city." Mrs. Grey explained, with her charming smile. The pastor exprcsed himself highly gratified, and added: "Your large circle of friends, thai you won (luring your long visit here, two or three years a pro, will be delighted to hear of thi=." .Mary Grey bowed gracefully, and said: "The pleasure, she believed, would, like the advantage, be mostly on her own side."' Then she inquired of the rector—with an apology for troubling him with her own humble affairs —whether he could recommend her 1o any private boarding house among the members of hi.s own church, where the family were; really earnest Christians. The rector could not think of any suitable place just then, but he. begged to j have the pleasure of introducing Mrs.] Grey to his wife, who. he said, would \ most likely be able to advwe her. And he rang the bell, and sent a message to Mrs. , who presently entered the study, The introduction took place, and the rector's wife received the visitor as cordially as the rector had. She. knew of no boarding house of the description required by Mrs. Grey, hut «he promised to inquire among her friends, and let tha.t lady know the re : suit. Soon after this Mrs. Grey took leave. ■Many of her former friends were, at, this season of the year, out of town, as she felt sure; but some among them would probably be at home. So before .she returned to her hotel, she made a round of calls, and left her cards at about a dozen different houses. She then went back to her room at the hotel and* spent the remainer of the day in unpacking and reviewing her elegant wardrobe. There was no sort of necessity for doinr* tin?, especially as she intended to remain but a few days at the house; and the operation would only give her the trouble of repacking again, to move. But Mary Grey n?VOT read, or wrote, or sewed, or embroidered if she could avoid it, and had nothing on earth else to occupy or amuse her; so her passion for dress had to be gratified with the sight of jewels, shawls and mantles, laces, silks, and satins, even though she dare not wear them. Next (lay the rector's wife called on her. and rccommerfiled a very superior boarding-house to her consideration. It was a, private boarding-house, in a fashionable part of the town, kept by two maiden ladiea of the most aristo-

est church principles. This was exactly the home for Mrs. Grey. And the rector's wife kindly offered to take her then and there in the rectory carriage, to visit "the Misses Cranes/ the maiden ladies in question. "The Miss Cranes," as they -were called, dwelt in a handomely furnished, oldfashioned., double house, standing in its own grounds, not very far from the government house. They were two very tall, very thin and very fair ladies, with pale blue eyes and long, yellow, corkscrew curls each side of their wasted cheeks. Introduced as Mary Grey by the rectors wife, she was received by the Miss Cranes as a permanent boarder. On the Saturday of that week she had a surprise. The rector of St. John's paid her a morning vist, bringing a letter with the Charlottesvillc postmark. "It came this morning, my' dear madam. It wns enclosed in a letter to mc from Mrs Wheatfield, the esteemed widow j of my late lamented friend, Bishop Wkcatfiold,'" said the rector., as he placed the letter in her hand. She thanked the reverend gentleman, and held the letter unopened, wondering how Mrs. Wheatfield could have found out that she was in Richmond. When the rector had taken his leave, she. opened her letter and read: Charlottesville, July 15, IS—. My Dearest Mary,—We have not heard a word from you since you left n>. All your friends here suftVr thp deepest' anxiety on your account, fearing that you may be ill among strangers. Only on Sunday last, when I happened to speak to our minister, after morning service. 1 got. a slight due to you; for Intold mc that you had asked him for a church letter to the rector of St. John's parish in Richmond. Thai information gives mo the opportunity of writing to you. with sonic prospect of having my letter reach you. for I can enclose it to the rector of Si. JohrTs, who will probably by this time know your address. And now. having explained how it is that I am enabled to write to you. 1 must tell you the news. There art- three marriages in prospect. my dear. I see it quite plainly. Our young people are the frankest and most innocent of human brings. They have no disguise*. Who arc to be married? yon ask mc. 1 will tell you who, I think, will be married. First. Mr. Alden Lytton and Miss Emma Cavendish. Not a prudent marriage for her, because she is a minor, with an immense fortune. And he is a young lawyer, with not a dollar of his own, and his way vet to make in the world. But what can we do about it? With one guardian in hrr dotage, and the other at the antipodes. Miss Cavendish is practically, if not legally, her own mistress. The only comfort is, that the young man in question is rich in everything else, if not in money. Well, the second prospective marriage pleases mc better. The Rev. Mr. Lyle, a worthy young clergyman, is devoted tc Miss Laura Lytton. The third approaching nuptials interest mc. least of all, in any manner. -A dark, brigandish looking Californian, o almost fabulous wealth, who is the friem and guest of Mr. Lylc. lias evidently fal len ill love at first sight with prett; little sparkling Electra Coroni. They have all gone down to Wendovei together, and the Lyttons are to make i long visit at Blue Cliffs. I must not forgot to tell you that wor thy young man. Mr. Kyto, has been her inquiring after you with much anxiety He went back toWendover a day or tw before our young people left. Xow. my dearest Mary, let mc hea that you are well, and believe mc eve your devoted friend, Maria Wheatfield. (To be Continued on Saturday ZSText.)