ALL OR NOTHING.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 602, 13 September 1913, Page 6

ALL OR NOTHING.

Ft (f'oi .. <« wassm

By i i)e A tufaor y § --- "A Bitter Bondage." "Two '' SLei la. " " Tiie T' n.ivn 0T73 Bridegroom," &c..

A THRILLING ROMANCE,

t'AP.T :i;:. "Where is Mahel ?" she asked. ''A fiave not seen her lately, and I miss tier so much." "Mabel has taken cold, and I have advised her to remain indoors until it is better. I suppose all Carsbrook is astir over this coming wedding ?" That frank, free mention of t-he subject relieved Mrs. Stanley's mind greatly. She little dreamed how anxiously Mrs. Morton had arranged the words so as to make them seem easy and natural. " Mabel has been preparing a very pretty wedding present for Miss Leyton. They were very good friends* Shall I show it to you ?" Mrs. Stanley was still more delighted, and looked at the beautiful casket of wax flowers with something like happiness. "We have not heard whether the day is settled," said Mrs. Morton, "but Mabel's gift will be in time, I hope." And all the time Mabel lay sick and sorrowful unto death, but her secret, by her mother's care, hidden from the world. CHAPTER LIV. Mrs. Ainsleigh enjoyed that shopping expedition to her heart's content. Here, indeed, was the first taste of the glories to come —the first results of having a rich daugh-ter-in-law. Alice, although not generous by nature, gave lavishly ; it added to her importance and her position to make magnificent presents, consequently she loaded Mrs. Ainsleigh with gifts—costly dresses and ornaments —which gladdened her heart. The two ladies enjoyed themselves very much ; indeed, Mrs. Ainsleigh wrote to her son and told him that she had not eojoyed herself so much for years. As for Alice, she could not say enough in her praise. "I shall make my mother happy, at least," he said, "even if I am wretched myself." Alice farther delighted this admiring lady by telling her that she should persuade Leonard to go to Paris for their honeymoon, and that during her absence she should wish her to take a very nice house for them in some fashionable locality, and to furnish it withoirt regard to expense. "Of course," she said, " you know what is what much better than my father does, who has never left Carsbrook. Let us have everything fashionable ; never mind the cost." "That is indeed something different to Mabel and poverty," said Mrs. Ainsleigh to herself * and her love of her daughter-in-law increased BTth the piroapect. Than, when they had purchased all that could possibly be required fox the next twenty years, the ladies returned to Carsbrook,- and preparations for the wedding began in real earnest. It was to be a very magnificent wedding. Alice was resolved upon that ; she had plenty of money, and she was going to marry a very handsome and distinguished man —the world should see she was proud of her choice. "Bight bridesmaids," neither more nor less —Mrs. Elderly's two daughters, Minnie and Helen Poyntz, two young ladies staying at Creedmoor, and two young ladies from Carsbrook. "I would have asked Miss Morton," said Alice, with a gleam of malice brightening up her eyes, '•'only so many peopie seem to think there is something wrong at Beechgrove that she really is not received in society at all." This little speech was made towards the ck«e of an evening party at Woodlands, one of the little fetes Alice gloried in, because they gave her an opportunity of showing off her handsome yoirng lover to all the Carsbrook girls. She was the centre now of a little group of matrons, aH bent upon flattering and 1 praising her—all, with the exception of Mrs. Stanley, w>no was thinking of Mabel. "I think you are mistaken," she said. "I know that- Miss Morton is not only received in Lady Mackin's set, but she is thought very much of by them." '''l may be mistaken," said Alice, tartly ; '"if sxx, it is (but seldom." "I called at Beechgrove yesterday," continued the kindly woman. "Mrs. Morton showed me a beautiful wedding present that her daughter was making "for you, Miss Leyton. I must not betray confidence by telling yo>j what it was. I never saw anything prettier." Alicfj turned pale with mortification. She would have liked to' hear that Mabel was angr\v, or indignant, or sorrowful. "E'oes she not seem', to care?" she askfjd, hastily and incautiously. Leonar d had joined the group by that tip.ie. - "Care !" said Mrs. Stanley; "I do oot quite understand. iiVfrs. Morton 57 poke very kindly and niot'ly of your prospects. She made half an apology over the wedding present. by saying that Miss Mortc/n and you were always great friends." "I never was a friend of heis." said Alice, hastily ; "and sine* 1 , these rumours i. have never seen her. Leonard Ainsleigh's face grew very PaJe. He drew himself up to his height, aQ'i towered above 'the siping ladies. "I should like to malco- one remark," Ik- yaid, ami hit; vou>.tuli of concentra.! " I'lier: I kas,w mawty •■■pni i-b-

«** in connection wit a * id her d.-.uifilter. 1 * w 1 ins opportunny 01 ami all. and saying 1 Ist'. My words ought 1 ] for I am a trusted 1 l i \\ Morton, ami have a , r her daughter. Yvhoil ittire repeats these 1 10 so knowing they 1 \ 1 followed this speech. 11 V 1 1 had turned deadly e 1 on first spoke, but I r> i up at him with a a i ll Yt ti 1 e you better," she 1 1 1 generous defence of the absent. Alice made no reply. Her triumph was robbed of half its value by the fact that Mabel cared nothing about it. Mrs. Ainsleigh, with graceful, smiling tact, went to Alice and commenced such an animated conversation with her that people forgot Leonard's speech. Mrs. Stanley told her husband afterwards "she really loved him for it." "Those remarks of yours were very imprudent, Leonard," said Mrs Ainsleigh, when they met that evening. "Alice did not seem to be at all pleased over it." "Alice may be pleased or not, mother, just as she will. I shall never hear those ladies spoken ill of without speaking out boldly in their defence."

"You must do as you will," said Mrs. Ainsleigh, coldly. '"lt did not occer to you, perhaps, this evening that, when you so strongly denied the truth of what you choose to call rumours, you gave the lie direct to me '!"

"I did not think of it," he "but I am afraid, even had I remembered it, I should have done the aune."

Whatever Alice thought, she said nothing. Perhaps in her own secret heart she liked her promised husband all the better for Lis spirited defence of those who had been his friends. So the 28th September came round. There had been wonderful preparations for the wedding. Alice was resolved that the whole county should talk of it, and so they did. Carsbrook Church had been magnificently decorated with flowers for the occasion ; new crimson carpets were laid down ; the school children, dressed in their best, lined the church walks ; a select body of young ladies strewed flowers before the bride. The guests were numerous ; the church was crowded with friends.

The morning dawned bright and beautiful ; laughing bridesmaids repeated the old adage, " Happy the bride the sun shines on." Woodlands was magnificently arrayed for the occasion. There was such a profusion of flowers one might have thought it fairyland, and in a large apartment, laid out in state, were all Alice's wedding presents. A suite of superb diamonds from the worthy banker, a beautiful bracelet from Mrs. Ainsleigh, a gold locket from Leonard. Every friend she had had sent something. In the midst of all stood a beautiful basket of "wax flowers from Miss Morton." When Leonard Ainsleigh saw that—although it was his wedding day—tears rose to his eyes. Every one agreed there never had been a more magnificent ceremony. The bridal train was beautiful to behold. The sunskine poured in through the windows, making the old church glad and bright. The bridesmaids wore recherche costumes of green and white ; they were all tall, pretty girls ; but the bride was, of course, the centre of attraction. Alice never looked so well in her life as on this her wedding day. Her dress was magnificent, of rich, gleaming white satin, with costly lace flounces, a veil of Honiton lace, and a wreathof orange blossoms. The bride wore also the suite of diamonds present* ed by her father.

Did any one in that gorgeous crowd think of the bridegroom, generally the person of least consequence on such occasions ? I can certify that he looked very handsome ; that his costume was faultless ; but that on his face was a look no bridegroom ought to wear—sad, weaijy, and dispirited ; yet, in the glorious pageant of the day, who noticed that ? Mrs. Ainsleigh was more than happy—every desire of her heast was accomplished. She stood near her son, in a rich, sweeping costume of pearlgrey satin and velvet. Mr. Leyton had presented her with a superb diamond brooch, and she had nothing left on earth to wish for now, unless it was that her son looked happier. For Leonard Ainsleigh was a changed man. His high spirits, his animation, his genial laugh, his bright flow of happily-chosen words had all vanished ; he was grave and sedate. In his mother's eyes this new shade of dignity suited him well ; yet she was not so worldly but that she would have liked her son to look happy on this his wedding-day. The grand ceremony was over. Leonard and Alice were man and wife. The joy bells rang out a glorious clash, the sun shone as the gorgeous procession wound its way out of the church and the guests drove off to Woodlands. There was a magnificent dejeuner. Once that morning Mrs. Ainsleigh went to her son. "Leonard," she whispered, "do contrive to look a little happier ; you have the expression of a martyr." "How can I fail to be happy, mother ?" he asked. "'.Have we not now all we ever wished for?" Still, be did bis best. Alice was wonderfully ev.-n meek and gernae. He could not. be otherwise than ole.asant and agreeable to one whose reai and true iove for him touched hi? heart, one who had given him all she ha a in the world. He was not ungrateful ie her, but be did not. Live Iter. It seetms! to him that tin- weasing bl'eaUlast would iieVt-r eud. The !.;ui- !., ;■ made ;< speech IUK! broke down several time:;. Tfcc?e v;;:s the u;.us.i

rdrioiuu. of \vit and buorhler. teasing the bridesmaids, and uM.ention to the

ft was afternoon before that gor;o>u!::-. banquet was ended, aud then it was time 10 :;o away. Alice retired To ehange her dress, the guests disperse,; themselves in little ■ croups. :.a..i Leonard, for the first time that day. found himself for a few minutes akuaa

f!i- realised it ;>.]'■ then. Mahal wae .lead to him. Something deeper and wider than a V'ave yawned between them. Then he roused himself. He must think m, more of Mabel—nc nor;-; his Vh.>ni:hLs bebaoo'd to anuther. Then a. t ambling, old hand stole into his. and a shaking voice said :

"You will be kind to Alice, Leonard ? She is my only child. You will be very patient with her, for she loves you very much ?"

He turned his head. Poor old Mr. Leyton had borne up very bravely until now, and the prospect of losing his daughter had overcome him.

"I have never crossed her will in all my life," he said. "She has been indulged in everything, Leonard. Swear to me you will be kind to my child—swear it *."

"So help me Heaven," cried the younger man, forgetting everything but the sorrowful rather before him, "I will be kind to her and take care of her as long as I live !" "She loves you very much. Tou do not know, but I do. She cares for ■nothiag in all the wide world as she does for you." Then came Alice, beautifully dressed, looking rather pale, Leonard's mother holding her hand. There were bright tears in her eyes as she kissed the kind old father, who had been to her what no one else would ever be. Then, amidst a shower of congratulations, good wishes, and blessings the newly-married pair drove away, and there was not one —not one in all that crowd who dreamed of what that day would bring forth. 1174. CHAPTER LV. Dr. Ainsieigh's spirited defence ol Mrs. Morton produced some little sffect ; the ladies repeated it to each other, and pondered the question gravely as to whether mother or son were right In their judgment of the beautiful recluse at Beechgrove. Dr. Ainsleigh from the day on which he wrote the letter never called at Beechgrove ; he never saw Mabel—never heard anything of her. Mrs. Morton has given her daughter sensible advice, and Mabel had been quick to take it. 'Whatever we do, my darling," her mother had said, "we must not give these women any cause for gossip. They must not know you cared for aim, Mabel ; they would stab your ieart, child, in a hundred ways, Women know how to torture. You aiust keep up appearances, no matter how heart-sick you may be. All fJarsbrook is busy making wedding presents for Miss Leyton ; you must aot be behind."

Mabel saw the force of the words. "I will do anything that you tell me, mamma—anything you think wisest and best."

"Then, Mabel, you shall make Miss Leyton one of those beautiful baskets of wax flowers and fruit. ft would not do, you know, for all the young girls to say that Miss Morton was the only one who did aot make a wedding present. Can you not fancy, darling, the significant looks that would go round ? We cannot brook that, Mabel."

So, with her heart aching. Mabel did as her mother wished. They were very lonely during those days. Mrs. Stanley was the only one who called upon them, and her visits were very rare, as the approaching wedding took up the greater part of her time. Mabel went cut occasionally —never into Carsbrook ; the memory of that cruel insult, stung her too deeply.

So they had never heard what day was settled for the wedding ; they knew it was to be some day in the autumn. The 28th of September was a beautiful day, one on which summer seemed to look back with a lingering smile. It was so Viright and pleasant. Mrs. Morton did not, as usual, sit down to her desk. The garden tempted her ; a few of the last roses of summer lingered, the chrysanthemums were all in flower.

"Never mind work this morning, Mabel," she said. "Let us sit iD the garden."

They went, and Evelyn, watching the chestnut leaves fall, forgot everything else in a deep reverie. Mabel walked up and down, then went to the little gate where the laburnum branches hung bare, and looked along the high road She fancied there was some unusual excitement. She saw many strange carriages driving from Carsbrook. She wondered what it was. There was no picnic party that she had heard of. Suddenly there burst from the old church spite such a peal of bells, such clashing, such wild rejoicing, such glorious music, that Mabel stood fascinated. She had never heard the Carsbrook bells ring like that. They were mad, merry, bewitched ; chime after chime, then a joyful clash, then another silver chime. The music seemed to fill the air. "How sweet ! how sweet !" said Mabel. " What are the bells so pleased about ? What are they rejoicing at to-day ?" As she listened a young girl, to whom in time of distress she bad been very kind, passed down the road. She looked shyly at Mabel, hoping she would speak. "Good morning, Pheoebe," said Mabel. -- You are walking very uuiekly." '•oh. mi:,.-, it was a beautiful sight! Everybody says there has been nothin- like it." "What are the bells ringing for, Phoebe '.' They seem to have gout mad with delight." ■,To he f'oio imi'^d).