ALL OR NOTHING.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 578, 21 June 1913, Page 6

ALL OR NOTHING.

(C«wri£B*.7

+ A THRILLING ROMANCE, —By the Author ot "A Bitter Bondage," "Two Keys," "Stella," "The Unknown Bridegroom," Ac, PART 9. "Sorry and regret are two things that I never feign," she replied, with a slight shade of hauteur. "I have been very happy here." "Perhaps it has been the charm of novelty," he said, carelessly. "Perhaps, like me, if you were always here you would tire of rt." Her face flushed crimson, and he, felt how awkward his words were. "What would I give," he said to himself, "if I could only ask her to remain ! I do not believe I should iver spend a dull hour again." CHAPTER XIII. "Perhaps," he added, unthinkingly, " you would not remain if we prayed you ever so earnestly T" He saw the colour deepen on her face and her eyec droop. A sudden sense of shame as to the falseness of his words smote hhn. He hastened to atone for them. "I am only jesting." he said, hurriedly. '"'What woaM there be at Gothwic to charm oa» so full of life and animation as poorsetf ?" Her eyes, raised so suddenly, met his, and plainly as eyea could speak hers said, "You !" He tried to laugh, hat he lelt ill at ease. "We shall miss you, too," he said, "but you will go away to fresh conquests : you will forget as in the great world of admirers. It could not be otherwise." \ He went away then, for the cry of one of the birds in distress reached him. She thought be had gone into the house, and not caring to leave the gay, sunlit terrace, she sat down there, as fair a vision as ever the sun shone upon, her fair hair blown by the morning breeze back from the charming, high-bred face ; her perfect figure, so full of graceful lines and curves, shown to perfection by the white morning dreas with its pretty blue ribbons. Bat for once Florence did not care whether she looked nice or not; ahe wa* trying to remember all he had said. The world held out but oae for her aow. "He should miss her," yet he had not asked her to remain. It was quite clear, no matter what her mother or Lady Gothwic 6aid, that he had no intention of asking her to do any such thing. Yet she liked him so much. She had met bo one like him, and never should again. " I wonder," thought Florence, humbly, "why he does aot eare for me ? I amuse him ; I aaa, he says, the most agreeabl* cosapanion he has ever met ; I am his equal in brrth and station ; I shall he rich, and I am not plain or ill-fevaured. His mother and father both wah it. Why will it never be ?" She tried to weigh in tee balance every word he had ever addressed to her. Alas ! not oae bad had any reference to love. "I have said I will laugh through life," she said to herself, "and so I will."

Yet there were tears m» her eyes as she looked over the distant woods, where the sun gilded the trees. A presentiment came to her that, when she had left Gothwic, the sun would never shine so brightly for her again. Real, bright tears ; and it was not often that Florence's eyes grew di». He returned in haste, and m ahe looked up he saw them tber«. Just as plainly as though he had read every thought in her mind, he guessed the cause of those tears, and again he said to mmself that he had been a simpleton, and by his rash marriage had ruined himself. "I must not be a knave as well," he thought. "I will keep up appearances for three days longer, then I must see Florence Ralston no more." He avoided looking at her until all trace of the tears had vanished. Florence recovered herself quickly. Tn a few minutes she held him charmed as ever. "You will keep your word," he said to her; "you will laugh through life ?" "At least, if I do not," she replied, hastily, "no one shall know it." - He had said he would avoid her, but that same afternoon, when Florence took her work andj went into the conservatory, whera the flowers were all in the full glory of their loveliness, he followed her, and they both forgot the passing shadow of the morning in a long, happy conversation among the delicate Indian blossoms. "You never gather flowers ?" he said to her suddenly. "Why should I?" she replied. "If I gather them they must die. Let them live their lives as you and 1 hope to live ours." "Then you have some sentiment," he cried, laughingly ; " that is a romantic idea." "It is not," she replied. " You know I dislike sentiment and romance —we will not talk about them, Lord Noel. You only pretend to like them,; there is a mocking smile round your lips as you speak of them." "Perhaps," he aaM, abruptly, " I have worn them threadbare." That was a new *iew of the matter to her. Perhaps in very truth this handsome, careless man had spent the whole strength of his heart in one great passion, and it had been a most unhappy one. In time, when all memory of that was done away with, he would care for her. That afternoon in the conservatory, so far as he was concerned, was ~.,«-w»r p faiinre tttaa not.

That same day, when the ladwss had retired, leaving the gentlemen over their wine, Lord Gothwic. turned to his sun. "Fill your glass, Clive," he said, "and let us drink to the fairest aad most charming girl in Kngiaad— Florence Ralston." Lord Noel did as he was told, bat he did it in perfect silence. " I do not know." said the earl, testily, ' K what hac come over the young men of the present day. In my youth, Clive, we hid not make love after your languid fashion, sir." "My dear father," said Lord Noel, "I am not making love ; I have not even thought of it." "Do you mean to tell me," cried the earl, "that you are not in love with-Miss Ralston, and do not intend to marry her ?" "She- is a very charming girl, sir, anil I like her very much. I have not thought ot marrying her." "Why, I only asked her mother to stay that you might have a most excellent chance. When that girl goes to London, Clive, she will have some of the noblest in the laud at her feet. "I shall not be among the crowd, sir." said his son, with a laugh. "She is a very nic« girl, but I am uot in love with her." Lord Gothwic looked very grave. " Such a Marriage would have given me the greatest happiness," he said, sadly. "You should show some little consideration for me, my son. Think what it would be te sm to have a daughter like Miae Ralston near me. Think what it would be to me to hold year little children in my arms ; to hear the music of little voices, the patter of little feet. It wculd add years to my lile, Clive — long and happy years. My heart warmed to that young girl the moment I saw her. I said to myself, ' That is the very girl for Clive !' " Lord Noel listened, »od knew nat what to reply. "I—l must marry some oae I love, sir," he stammered. "Of course—of course ! But why you cannot love Florence pussies me. I hope, Clive, you have no attachment of which I could disapprove?" And the man who called himself a gentleman answered, unhesitatingly : "I have no attachment at all, sir. Give me a little longer. Let nte enjoy my youth."

CHAPTER XIV. The cloae of a warm September day, the last on which Lady Ralston was to remain at Gothwic Tower'e—a day unusually warm and sultry. Dinner wa* ever. The earl and Lady Ralston were busy over a same of chess ; gentle Lady Gothwic had taken up a book, but as the leaves of it were never turned, ft is to be imagined she iadnlged in the most sleep possible. At ttee large open French window stood Lord Noel and Miss Ralstoa. Perhap« it was with *»me idea of trying to win some complimentary words from him that Florence bad dressed herself ao exquisitely this evening. She wore a rich dress of of pale blue velvet, elaborately txiejmed with seed pearls. Tbe bodice was eut square, sbowißg a neck white and beautifully formed. Rare old point lace half-covered the white, rounded arms ; the fair hair woa simply arranged, anh fastened with Florence's favourite flower, the poEaegraaa&e &s sfee stood, with the evening; sunlight lingering over her, and touching ber hair with gold, she ws* a pretty picture — lovely eaougfe to charm aajr man's eye. Lord Noel was looking admiringly at her. He remembered that it was the last evening he should spend with her, aad something of sentimental regret came ovev him. She was so dainty and charming —her delic*te, high-bred beauty so different from the dark, passionate loveliness of Evelyn, his wife—so much more to his taste, he thought now. All day she had been strangely quiet. A little scene occurred while she was dressing had distressed her. Lady Ralston had sailed into her room —a most unusual thing for the mistress of Bethany Hall to do. After greeting her daughter affleetionately, she dismissed Florence's maid on some trifling pretext ; and when the woman had quitted the room, Lady Ralston, in her stately way, placed her hand upon her daughter's shoulder. "Florence," she snad, smirmg kindly upon her, "you wejre -walking for some time in the gvonads with Lord Noel. Did he say anything; particular ? Have you anything to tell me ?" A flush erf mortification in ti» fair face might have been gaUteaeot answer. '•' What should tee bare te say, mamma ?" she asked, proudly. "We talked about the sunset and London; about the respective merits of Brighton rr>* Cowes. I do not r«s&OTober what else." "You know t£utt in not wbat I mean, Florence," said ber fadysaiP"Has Lord Noel In short, do you think Lord Noel cares for you ? You understand me we& enough ?" '"I think he likes bm very mndh indeed," she replied. "A* for loTe, mamma, he has rm amen word in his vocabulary." An expression of de«p annoyance came over Lady Ralston's *ace. "If he had no serious intentions," she said, angrily, "he ought not to have engrossed your time and attention as he has done. Mere liking is no excuse for the manner in which he has devoted himself to you." "He is the son of the house," she replied, quickly, "" aad I am his mother's guest." " I am very nwseb disappointed," said Lady Ralst&». "A. marriage between Lord Noel amd you, Florence, would have given t&a greatest pleasure to your fatfe&r and me." " Mamma," cried tbe girl, " you humiliate me. I cannot marry Lord Noel unless he asks nse. Surely I was not brought here for hits approval —to be takes or left, as he

thought best ?'• "You are spess&ieg fisa a. most unbecoming manner." said Lady Ralston, severely. "I respect myself too mueh to humiliate my only child. la our world, Florence, marriages are very often ooatrac&s made —or, rather, arranged—by parents." "That is not what my marriage will be, mamma, if ever I marry at all," said the youag girt, looking straight into her mother's face. And when that expression came into Florence's eyes, L»dy Ralston always knew that it was better to play the part of a wisw g«n«ral and withdraw her for«*B. So she kissed the floated fa-ee, and murmured a few kind words : but the remembrance of that interview distressed and annoyed bar all the ilay. She was straageiy o«»»t, and Lord Noel saw it. CHAPTER XV. Florence puzxlad hers&M with many thoughts. Lord Noel Hfced her, that was evident ; he sought her society, and seemed very happy with her ; he looked as though be loved her ; yet he never mad« a»y allusion to anything of the kind. Why was it ? she asked herself again. She went to the mirror and looked earnestly' at the face redacted tbere. Snrely it was fair enough to pleaae say' man ? Yet it had sot charmed him. How was it ? Every oee seemed to think she had nothing to do but look at him, «uad b« woald be coaquered. ttt> many were aaxious for the marriage. It was v«ry mortifying to fail, after all —to know that he might have wooed tor —that he was expected to do so, and had not availed himself of the opportunity. She might have refused him, as she had done others ; but to know that be might have loved her, and did not, was a mortification almost too keen to be borne. So on this, the last evening of their visit, while the elders of the party were engaged, these two stood at the long,, open window alone, Florence looking out on the evening sky, flecked with gold and grey, proud aad slightly defiant, without any gleam of tenderness or any light of love. "What a far-off land that aeenaa," she said, looking »t a mass of violet clouds—"what a strange, transParent world ! I »hould like to to visit it. Is there a world in cloudland, I wonder ?" "I like to think so," he r*plied. "I like to imagine all those bright stars that will shine out so soon are worlds full of »««plo ltibe our own." •"I did not think you had *o muck imagination," sh* setid, laughingly. "I thought yo» wom all matter-of-fact." "1 am, pretty ne«rJy ; bat Ja the matter of planets 1 have my own notions. When 1 was a child, Wfes Ralston, I remember r*«(lSag a arrange, weird, wild book, catted ' The History- of Um Moob.' M I remember rightly, it wa* writfcw by a pupil of on« of tbe mo*t r*«own«d astronomer* tbe world baa ever sac*. He describee tk* isbateitaote «f the moon, half-m«n, baM-angels, fair a*»d spiritual, moving from place to place by the aid ©f long;, whit* w«ogs, suefe as we see in the pictures of Uu a»gels. He declares, rooreowj, that he saw these white-wias©d, fair b«ings gathering silver ttmsSi from trees, whose leave* i»ere ti»« colour of gold. What do yos think erf tfaat, Miss Ralston ?" She was looking up at hint with wide-open, wondering ey«e. "Did you reaHy road sach a book?" she asked. "I believe that, soroacrbore in n»y father's library, I could ftod it for you," he replied. "Mrad, Ido »ot tell you in what spirit it was written. It may have been aaatire, a jest, a flight of fancy. Ido »ot remember what the preface said. I only know that ever since I read it I have been longing to know if it were true. Shall we go out now and s*e if the moon is rising ?" " Florence, if you are going into the garden, you must take this shawl," said Lady Rahstom. ' She took a shawl of tine black lace and placed it round her daughter's shoulders, bringing part, of it over her head, knowing well how pretty she would look under the black lace. Just underneath the window, spreading half-way down the garden, was a large bed of odorous white lilies. By arts best known to himself the head gardener at Gothwic had contrived to kwp some of them in bloom until late in the summergreat odorous lilies, with golden hearts, and white, shining leaves. They walked slowly among them until they reached a small iron garden chair, and they sat down side by side. Tbe evening sKy was a mass of gold and roseate clouds ; the evening air was warm, and heavy with fragrance ; the birds were singing their vesper hymn. It was a dangerous hour for those who liked each other, and yet were bidden by faith and honour to remain ever apart. "I will look for that book, Miss Ralston," said Lord Noel, "and ride over to Bethany Hail with it. We shall not bid each other au eternal farewell to-morrow. I shall obtain permission Irom Lady Ralston to visit her." "Mamma will be wry pleased," aaid the girl, quietly. "And you," he asked, bending over aer—""will you not be pleased, too ?" "How can I answer now lor what I shall be in a few days' time ?" she replied, lightly. (To bo Continued.)