THE GAME OF LIFE.

Ohinemuri Gazette, Volume XXII, Issue 2780, 21 April 1911, Page 4

THE GAME OF LIFE.

COPYETORT,

THE MASTER OF MILLWOOD HALL

By Hedtoy Richards, Author of "Time, The Avenger/ 1 "The Mine Mtster's Heir," etc., etc

PART 6. CHAPTER IX.

When Stvlta reached the Court sin found ttaay were having tea on th« lawn, and i*e noticed that a, pompous looking man of middle age wm talking to the Major and her father.

" You have bad a long ride," said Grece, as Stelki advanced, holding up her riding habit.

" I've been to Appletou, and I've beard a splendid sermon," ehe said, as she seated herself near Grace.

"A sermon ! You cannot have been to Millwood Church, because the vicar's off duty. ABow me to make you acquainted with Mr. Brear," said the Mtojor introducing them.

" Where did you hear this splendid aermon ?" he aafeed, as lie draw his chair nearer to hew, nod looked approvingly at her. He was a man who admired beauty in m woman and considered Mroseß something of i connoisseur.

Stella took Ms measure quickly, and felt an instentaoeons dislike t* this parson.

" I heard him at 'Appleton ; h» was preaching afrom* the broken cross dd the Green."

"Good gracioi»*! The man conM not be an ordained clergyman," said the vicar.

"Oh, he . aoesn*fc belong to your Established" Ohuw*. He fcas [a church — Congregaticwalist —4n Millwood."

The vicar smiled

" Oh, I know the man. He calls aimself the Rev. Mites Ford, a strange man, even for a dissenter."

v "The disciples of Christ were considered strange in their generation," Stella said.; then Happening to glance at her father, she exclaimed :

" Are you ill, father ; you lopk so white."

" I'm all right, hut you startled me, you looked sorlike your mother just now," he said.

Stella looked curiously aWrfm ; she knew her father was- not a>raan to be troubled with sentiment, neither did she believe he bad been*deeply attached ' to her mother. From what she had been told Ms whole thoughts had been) absorbed in money making, and the, gentle, lovable woman had found l&fe a disappointment, ao now Stella wondered at his answer. "My dear jfoung lady you would not compare a schismatic to our Lord's disciples." ' ' , , "What is a schismatiq?" she asked. The vicar stirred his tea, then he looked at the beautifnl girl with tb« animated fawe and said:—

"A schismatic is one who differ* from the Established Church of Bng« land."

" And -jour King is the head of this State Church ?"

" Of course, it is theachureli of the country," be-saM, pompously.

"Then I'm afraid /there are a lot of schismatics In *it£" abe said, quietly.

"I don't inirtiinliMMfT |iim. quite/ he said in a displeased? twne.

"Yet the troth of "what I say iff very evident. The -State—-represent-ing the King—have past ied a larw that a man may marry bis 'deceased wife's sister, and a number of your bishops counsel their clean gymen not to officiate at such mairiages. Isn't that schism setting aside the laws of the church aa "sanction .ed by its head the King." ..

'' That is a diffej -ent matter, a matter of - conscience*"' said the vicar in a tone that he b» cant to be conclußive.

"Dissenters seceded from, ttie Church because certain practices were condemned by their o^ vn consciences ; these remain, and! tbei "c is schism inside your Cburch."

"No such thing., !my dear young lady. May I ask if* you are a Dissenter ?"

"No, I'm-nothing <:at all, though'l might be "if I often j heard Mr. Ford preach," she said, c juietly.

For a moment t here was silence,' which was broken by,, the major ex' tlaiming :

" Hetto ! here's ,' Jack."

Looking round, th<3y saw Jack coming in a leis' »relyj way toward* them.

" They said you wefle here sa-T came. I've broujght a message from my mother," lie said^ -as he shook hands with the • differed t membeee of the party. Th tun. seating htmaetf between the two girle he /said, in a low voice: "My -mother wawfcs y»u to dine with ue on Monday, but doort name it until the wear hae gone. I cannot staor/Vhtm. Hjpye 70a bean out riding '&:■ be aateft, t»rning to Stella.

"Yes, I irodfc «s far .as Ajptotoo." "And Stella actwi*!^ stayed to listen to* a m/an fnom a little cbapel in MfiAmootk, vifoo was preaching on the Gwen/' ;, Jack loofcvxt" "iiftenested. 1 "*Was he* a l*g teMbw witfc • powerful tap&*?'

" Yes ; ttis.-i»ameij,i&%Koed." " Then he was wortii lisbartng tOfc I bet. He&*a splendid-fellowr"

"Do you know him?" asked Gaace, " I know enough of^hftm to respect him "; and Jack's face clouded ac he remembered how he had set this man's advice -at defiance and. gone his own way. ■ ■■■ -

" I don't think I should care to listen to a man who's outside the Church," saM. Grace. "If I believe*in* a Chsurch^at all, I believe in one vtiife endngb^to wHow every man to worship asi'be thinks best," said Sterta. "Really, S*e»a, I cannot understand you," said, Grace, in a more impatient tone than Jeck iad ever heard her speak, and he vaguely wondered if she was "troubled that he had hot a3ked the question he was about to put the day of the Swifts' arrival. This thought made town unhappy, and soon after, the vicar had

gone he took his departure, yiettiraang home by way of the moor, and as he stepped on to the high roafl b« met Mileo Ford and Juflie, w.hoxn lie at once recognised as the girl -w&o had taken shelter in the but. Baising his hat Jack passed', on, thinking ot his >last meeting with the minister. "TJSr. Cathcart' doesn't look well," Jalfe remarked to* her companion. «•»£). He doesn't lookup to r i&«

mark," he replied,-then, relapsed into silence which caused Jutte to observe that he wasn't-in a-taflkative mood.

" No, I'm rathar>.tr aHent man, Miss Julie. I think ifet-^wpe you I would let one of your girl-friends accompany you to the next service," he replied.

She did not answer, and they walked on in silence until they came to the gate leading into the garden at Bridge House, as Mrs. Ray's residence was called.

"Won't you come in and have tea with us ?" she asked, with her hand on the gate.

" No, thanks ; I must get home. Good afternoon;" and Ford went on, thinking that in future he would persuade one of the young men out of the town to go with him on his journeys into the country.

" She's a silly girl and likes the idea of being seen out with the minister, but it won't do," he reflected.

Meanwhile Julie had entered the louse ; ahe was feeling very cross because Mr. Ford had let her see he Sid not care \ for a tete-a-tete with ler, which was the height of bliss to aer.

" Are you tired, Julie ?" asked her mother as she entered the diningroom, where the table was laid for tea. " I expected you to bring Mr. Ford in to tea," she added.

" I asked him, but he's just horrid ;his afternoon," said the girl as she took her hat off and flung it on the couch ; then when the maidi had Drought in the tea and they were seated at the table ahe said :

" He told me I*d better take a girl with me for compa»j'. It was hateful of him, and —and I love him," jho said, the words seeming to come unbidden to her lips.

Mrs Ray looked at her pretty daughter with pride, as she said :

11 Don't you fret, Jnlie. He'll end in loving you, bat being a minister, je has to be particular, even in his love-making ; and it* more proper, I daresay, to have a third party."

"But another girl ! She'd be trying to put a spo!c»*in. my wheel. I fiave dropped Mary Tilson and Jenny Briggs because I saw they were doing their best to attract him," said Julie.

■•'■" Well, now, what do you say to taking Nellie Porsyth with you next time Mr. Ford's preaching in the country. She's as deaf as a post, but she'd he pleased to go."

, " The very thing, mother; I see you know a thing or two."

" I don't know much about courting. You see your father never gave me any peace till I said 'yes,' and after that he was my shadow ; so you see I'm not much used to laying snares," said Mrs. Ray innocently.

Julie's eyes flashed, and she muttered something about her mother heing a fool ; then she told her that the young lady who was staying at the Court had been at the preaching, and stayed to talk to the minister.

"Well, I'm surprised, because the Court people are proper church people. Miss Doyle wouldn't speak to him if she fell over him, and Mr. Ford knows his place too well to think of a born lady; and I'm sure he'd be a lucky man if he got you for his wife, Julie, dear," said her mother ; and Julie made up her mind that it wouldn't be her fault if he hadn't the luck.

CHAPTER X

"DO WE MOVE OURSELVES, OR ARE WE MOVED BY AN UNSEEN

HAND AT THE GAME ?"

" Shall we have a stroll on the lawn, Grace ?"

The speaker was Jack Cathcart, who had just come into the drawingroom with the Major and Mr. Swift, and he had at once joined Grace. All through . dinner the quiet sadness of her face had been a reproach to him, and he had made up his mind to, as far as he could, explain his conduct.

Her face brightened, and by the time they had passed through a side door leading on to-the lawn, the expression of sadness had gone, and a happy-looking girl raised her face to his in reply to some remark he made.

They strolled on ; still Jack did not speak, and, glancing at him, she saw his face was stern.

"What could Jack have to say to tier that made him look like that ?" she wondered. Then he spoke quickly.

"Grace, you remember the day I came to the Court, when you were going to meet your Mends ?"

"Yes," she answered, thinking she should never forget the day when she had been so near a great happiness, that seemed to have vanished ; but now all would be well, and her heart beat high with hope.

He bent his head and spoke in a tow tone.

"That clay I began to ask you to be my wife, I was disappointed when your father interrupted us ; now I know it was a good thiag he did."

" What do you mean ?" The words burst from her in her surprise ; coyness, reticence, everything was forgotten in the surprise and indignation his words had caused.

"I mean that if we-had become jngaged, I couldn't have married 70U."

Her womanly pride was roused

"You seem to take it for granted that I should have accepted you," she said.

" Oh, Grace, don't oßpoak like that. I love yon, and alwayß-*sha,ll, and I hoped jou cared for me. Now I should be almost gla*>to-*fcnow I was mistaken."

Her face became wonderfully bright. Jack cared^i6»(*Kr, tfaen all would be well, and^liagmg her hand on his arm, she said :

" You were not mistsksn."

He drew a deep brea*b. Should he aski her to marry him ? Was it right, having gained her love, to let her suffer ? He had done no wrong, why should they suffer for his father's folly, and words of love trembled on his lips. Then he remembered what the world would' call him, and he told himself if th« truth came to light she would, never forgive him for having cheated her into a marriage with a nameless man. Grace Doyle was a proud girl, and he believed she wonld rather suffer than join hands with a man to whose birth there was attached a stigma.

She did not understand his silence and looked up at him timidly.

"I wish to Heaven you di-dn't care for me, because the knowledge that you do makes it harder for me," he exclaimed.

"I don't understand, Jack. Please speak out, you are making me unhappy," she said.

"I'm a brute, Grace. When I cam* that day intending to ask you to be my wife I believed I was , free to marry ; now —"

" Free to marry ! Surely you are free, to marry,?/' <*? said^ interrupting bim> ■„,., „ . ;.'■■■• ■

" No. There is Eomet'iin- tl'.tt. will for ever prevent me n.s>inp; you to be my wife. It would be a rAn to do it," he said, his voice hoarca with emotion.

" Some one has a claim on you," she said, in" a whisper.

For a moment he hesitated, wondering if it ■ would be right to answer in the affirmative, then he remembered his mother, surely she had a greater claim on him—under the circumstances —than even the woman he loved. Site, his mother had a right to ask him to save her from unmerited disgrace, so he answered firmly :

"Yes, another woman bag a gFeater claim thajrryou:?'

She stoo&vetill and looked at him, sorrow (and indignation in her face, then the latter gained the mastery.

" You were going to ask me to marry you, jet you knew of thia other woman-'s-^clafan !" she exclaimed.

" I tell you I thought I was free. Grace, I cannot-explain, but I don't want you to thMk I was a cad, intimating that I loved you, then drawing back. I shall always love you, but circumstances are such we cannot marry. God knows I have been tempted to ignore what parts us and marry yon, but I should be wronging you greatly and I cannot do it."

" I'm glad you have told me this. and—and I shall know you love me always."

" I think it's harder on me than on you, Grace, because in time you'll marry some one else, and I shall have to stand by and see another man have the wife I wanted."

"I don't think I shall marry. I'm \ constant nature, so I shall stay and keep my father company, and, Jack, I am glad you have told me, it was very hard to think you had changed your mind."

" I shall never love any other woman," he replied. " And now suppose we go in, the others will wonder what has become of us," he added, and they went towards the door.

Meanwhile, Mr. Swift told Lady Annette he had a strong desire to see the room that had been twice struck by lightning.

" There is nothing to see, and it was a room that was very much used by my husband ; I seldom go into it," she replied.

" I should like to see it. I have studied many subjects and it is just possible I may be able to give jou some idea what attracts the lightning, if you don't wish to go perhaps the butler could show me the room," said M*. Swift.

Lady Annette rose.'

" Oh, if you have such a strong desire, I will go with you. In fact, Symonds dislikes going into the room now ; I believe he is afraid a thunderstorm may spring up while he is in it. I think the servants all steer clear of the room," she said, carelessly, then turning to Stella and the Major, she said :

" Will you come 7"

"Thante. I don't wish * to," Stella answered, and the Major said he would keep Miss Swift company, as all the other people were on the lawn.

" Then we will leave you for a few minutes," said Lady Annette and opening the door she went towards the room that had acquired the re putation of "being uncanny.

"I see it's qnite away from the other rooms," observed Mr. Swift as they stopped In front of the door.

The key was in the lock ; it ihad remained there from the time of the damage that tbe storm had caused had been repaired, and, turning it, Lady Annette stepped into the room, followed by her companion.

Swdft glanced curiously round, and went towards the window, then his eye rested on the bureau.

" I was told that a bureau had been shattered," he said.

" Yes, we sent it to London to be repaired. It came back yesterday ; they have done their work wonderfully well," said Lady Annette.

He went to the bureau, and examined it carefully.

" Whoever repaired that is a clever workman. It is a curious old piece of furniture, I don't wonder you did not care to lose it, and, of course, it would have associations," he said, carelessly, yet glancing at her as he spoke; "it belonged to my husband's father ; the associations would be for him, to me it is simply a quaint, and I believe, valuable piece of furniture, and on that account I thought it worth repairing." Mr. Swift didn't seem to hear her, he had stepped back to the window, and was looking at the floor.

" It would be just about here, that my countryman fell, when the lightning struck him."

" Your countryman !" exclaimed Lady Annette.

He raised his head and looked at her.

" Yes, I heard he was an Ameri,n. Isn't it true ?"

Lady Annette shook her head, as she replied :

" I know nothing about the man except that he is a stranger, and as he was not claimed after his death his identity is a mystery."

"Poor fellow!" said Mr. Swift, then stepping to the window he stood looking out, while Lady Annette waited impatiently ; she wanted to get out of the room, she had gratified the stranger's curiosity, why must he linger ?

Suddenly he turned round. " This is a lovely place, Lady Anaette," he remarked.

" Yes, it is always considered so," she said, as she turned towards the door, but he did not move.

" Yes, it is a place a man would be loath to give up. Don't you think so ?" he said, smilingly.

Her face turned pale, it was such a very strange question to ask her, but her voice was firm as she replied:

" I have not thought about it, you see we old families are here from one generation to another. Of course, when my son marries I shall have tc go to the Dower House."

" Ah, yes, that is where the wido'n of a Cathcart resides when the next heir brings a bride here. Your soc is a fine fellow, Lady Annette, i\ would be a thousand pities if he lost this beautiful,place."

"Lost it ?" she echoed, and the large blue eyes were fixed keenly oe him.

" Yes, it would be a great misfortune," said Swift in a deliberate jtone as though he was considering Jack's chance of retaihing.it. Lady Annette looked full at him. •ad her tone was haughty as sh< •aid : " How could he lose it ?" To be Continued