THE GAME OF LIFE; OR THE MASTER OF MILLWOOD HALL.

Ohinemuri Gazette, Volume XXII, Issue 2791, 17 May 1911, Page 4

THE GAME OF LIFE; OR THE MASTER OF MILLWOOD HALL.

By Hedley Richards, Author ef "Time, Tiw Avenger," "The Ulna Waster's ttotr," etc., etc.

pa«t 17.

Glancing at the clock, she saw ska would only just have time to keep her appointment, and running downstairs she passed out of the house, and went at a quick pace along th« flrive, but in baste as she was, sh« had time to say a pleasant word to the little child who was playing hi the lodge gardens, but once outside the gates she began running, and as jhe stepped on to the moor a clock In the distance struck eleven, and at the same time she saw her lover coming quickly towards her.

"My dear one," he said, as he took both her hands in his and glanced at her bright, happy face.

"I'm a Httle late, but I've been aext door to quarrelling with Grace. I told her about you, and she spoke rudely."

He laughed.

"Miss Doyle does not view me with favourable ejws, I expect; but what floes it matter, we-know that we love iach other, so outsiders' opinion is of little value, Now, suppose we sit where we did the other day, as we must have a ka^ talk."

"My father-has told me that he has consented to our. engagement on certain conditions, but he wouldn't tell me what they were," said Stellar then, as she glanced at her lover, she said :

"You look as though you were ancious about something. Is it the conditions my father has made ?"

He looked lovingly at her as he said :

"Stella, it was only the day before yesterday that you promised to be my wife. I felt the happiest man in existence, and it seemed to me that ioy was to be my portion just now, but in nature the storm follows the sunshine, and in life I have noticed that great joy ie often followed by sorrow ; it has been so with me, the song in my heart has been changed to bitter perplexity."

"What has happened?" she asked, as they seated themselves, and solicitude veiled the brightness of her eyes.

"Dear one, I have been worried, fighting with temptation, losing my grasp of the God I have tried to serve, and I have come out of the pit realising that I am a weak, sinful man."

"Then, what are other men ?" she

asked

"I only know myself; but now, Stella, I will tell you what has happened," and Miles told her the story of his birth as he had heard it from her father.

Stella listened with breathless attention, and when he had finished she said :

r "You won't take the estate from Jack Cathcart ?"

"I cannot decide until I hear what my mother haß to say ; but I have come to the conclusion —if ■it is left to me to decide —to make a deed of gift of the estate to Mr. Cathcart. I shall arrange to take about ten thousand pounds, the bulk of it I should spend in helping the poor, but about two thousand pounds I should Bettle on you, a minister has so little chance to save, but of course, my mother may wish to take her rightful position, though I, don't believe she will wish to dispossess Lady Annette."

"I'm sure she won't, or she would not be your mother," exclaimed Stella.

Ho smiled.

"I believe she would not, so far as regards herself, wish to claim her rights, but she may wish me to assert my claim to the estate. 9be must have suffered terribly, yet no one seems to blame. Of course, when I asked you to be my wife I did not know there was any stain on my oame, or I should have told you."

"It wouldn't have made any difference, and you didn't ask me to marry you ; at least, I gave you a very strong hint that I wanted you to do so," said Stella, with a merry laugh.

"You opened my eyes, and I'm very thankful you did. You see, I should scarcely have liked to ask you to leave your grand home for the humble one I can offer."

"I'm not going to marry the home, but ;ou, and I should have been very disappointed if I had settled down as a rich woman. You don't. know how I shall love doing things for you with my own hands. You don't want to be a rich man ?" she asked, quickly.

"Yes, I do. I long to take the estate and most of the money. I've pictured all the good I could do with it ; and I've thought of little children trotting about Millwood Hall. If it was mine I should make it a chndrens' home. I've longed to go and claim what your father said was mine. For a day and night it was a fierce battle. I feit as though God had forsafcien me ; then I wrote to my mother, and gradually it has become my conviction that I have no right to treat my brother cruelly in order to do good to strangers. Stella, I've

learned something about myself this

last day or two. I know that I have ■ a desire to stand onfc among my fellows as a philanthropist —an ambition to be foremost among the followers of our Lord, not in good works, but to hear the world call me great and good. I have had to pray and wrestle for the Lord to give me the humble spirit that is well pleasing in His sight, and I think He is teaching me ; bat it's been a time ol stress and trouble since I came to this milestone. Sod grant I leave a good record on it." "You are bard on yourself," said

Stella, clasping his hand*.

"No, dear love ; I am simply honest, but your father will not consent to you being my wrife if I refuse to be Cathcart of MiHwood." "Then I shall marry without his consent," she said. "I warned him we should," Miles said, "and when I hear from my mother I will send her letter to you to

read."

At that moment a distant clock chimed one, and Stella jumped to het feet, saying :

"I shall be late for luncheon."

"I will walk with yoiz as far as th< gates of Doyle Court, but one .kiss before we go," and Ford drew her to him, then they walked briskly for ward, and at the gate -.leading into *hev?r_9ynds-they parted.*-

| CHAPTER XXVIII. ,"Yet one thing at least I can— ; Love a man or bate a man supreme- : ly."

f Aunt Sophia had not found an opportunity to tell JuUe of the minister's engagement, she had seemed to avoid both her mother and aunt ; in iact, she was scarce!}' ever in the house, but it was quite evident she was unhappy, and brooding ever something.

"Poor Julie lodes downright miserable," said Mrs. Ray, as she saw her laughter come up the garden path a little before dinner time on -the morning that Stella and her lover had met on the moor.

"So she does, and the sooner she Knows the parson is going to marry another girl, in fact, that she don't :ount with him at all, the better it will be, so I'm going to taH her right away after dinner."

Mrs. Ray laid down the stocking 3he was knitting and looked at her :ompanion.

"Well, Aunt Sophia, I'm not saying anything against you, but it's iiy opinion you don't like the job ; you said you should tell her the other night, and yon didn't. I hate vexing Julie, and i\ seems to me you aren't keen about it.*'

"She's never given me the chance to tell her. Of course, I know there will be a bother, and I've got to the time of life when I'd rather have peace than war. I can remember the time when there was nothing I enjoyed better than setting folks a bit straight, but that's done with ; still ['m not the woman to shirk a duty ; as soon as dinner is over I'm going to tell the girl," bwW Aunt Sophia, with decision.

"Then I'll go and fetch my big smelling bottle in case she goes of! in a faint," said Mrs. Ray.

"Faint ! Julie's not the fainting sort, she more lillely to go into hysterics."

"Anyway, it's well to be prepared, my dear," said Mrs. Ray as she left the room.

During- dinner Awxt Sophia tried to get Julie to tattl, but it was useless; she barely answered her aunt's remarks, and her tovwas sullen. At last, whan dinner whs over. Aunt Sophia—who was beginning to find her not very large stock of patience exhausted—said in a sharp tone :

"Joiie, will yon come with me into the drawing-room ; I've something important to tell yon ?"

The girl shot a keen glance at her then followed without a word, Mrs. Ray coming in her wake.

"Well, what is it?" asked Julie, when they reached the drawing-room.

Mrs. Ray seated herself in an easy chair, and sighed heavily as she said:

"It's a disappointment for you, Julie, and one as I've done my best to save you."

Aunt Sophia—who had seated herself on a straight-backed chair and was holding herself erect—turned sharply on Mrs. Ray, saying :

"Now, Ann, is it you or me that's going to engineer this job ?"

Mrs. Ray shrank back.

"I don't know nothing about engineering, but you bargained to tell Julie."

"Then you just keep quiet ; when anyone's got a disagreeable job to do it ought to be left to them."

"Perhaps you'll say what it's all about ?" said Julie, shortly.

"Yes, I'll come straight to the point. Your mother thought it better you should know Mr. Ford is going to be married."

"Miles Ford going to be married ! I don't believe it; you are making it up," Julie exclaimed, her tone becoming shrill in her excitement.

"Anyway, he told your mother so." "It's Gospel truth that he said it," interposed Mrs. Ray.

"So he thinks he'll marry that American girl, but he won't; her father won't let him, and then he'll turn to me. I know,it."

"Kubbish ! The parson's not that sort of man ; if he cannot have the woman he loves he'll go through life alone," said Aunt Sophia.

"You hateful creature !" screamed Julie. "I'll make him marry me, or I'll kill myself," and Julie threw herself on the couch and moaned and screamed, beating the air with her hands. / Mrs. pay advanced with the smelling bottle.

"Do take a sniff, Julie ; it's real strong. I brought it downstairs for I thought you might take the news badly, I've gone through trouble myself—not of your sort —but when jour poor father died ; smelling salts kept me up wonderful. I know I did nothing but sniff when I was giving orders about his coffin —real oak, with heaps of brass about it."

"Go away, you silly old fool," screamed Julie, knocking the bottle out of her mother's hand.

Mrs. Ray stooped to pick it up

"Well, Julie, I can only say that I'm glad your father was more set on me than I was on him, as I s'.ouldn't like to have had it on my conscience that I'd called my mother a silly old fool, especially if she had oily just reached middle age."

Julie took no notice of her words, but her screams became louder.

Aunt Sophia rose and went out of the room, returning, in a few minutes with the jug out of her bedroom, and going up to the couch, she said •

"Now, see here, Julie ; this jug's full of cold water, and if you don't stop that screaming and moaning I'll pour every drop over you."

Julie screamed louder than ever, and Aunt Sophia lost her patience.

"Have you no sense of decency ? Do you want everyone in Millwood to know that you are going on like a lunatic because the parson won't marry you ? Well, if you won't stop there's nothing for it but to bring you to your senses," and hoping that a few drops would have the desired effect, she poured a little of the water on the back of the girl's neck, which was the only part visible, as her face was partly buried in a cushion.

As the water touched her neck Juli« turned round, and knocking the jug out of her aunt's hand, she rushed out of the room, her pretty face distorted with rage.

"The little fury ; I told $ou she had her grandmother's nature, she's a chip of the old block, and no mistake."

"She's spoilt the set, and ruined the carpet," said Mrs. Ray, regarding the broken jug and the pool oi water with dismay.

"Well, I'm going fto pick the bits up and get a cloth-and a bucket to dry the carpet ; we don't want the maids chattering," said Aunt Sophia.

While she was thus employed, Julu —whom the explosion of temper had quietened—had bathed her face and was vowing to herself that she would be revenged on the American girl, and she would be Miles Ford's wiff in spite of her, | \

rAI tne very txtue this scene was enacting, Lady Annette had driven up to the house where Miles Ford lodged and very much surprised his landlady by askAng to see him, and as Mrs. Robeon threw open the door of the minister's sitting-room, there was a ring of satisfaction as she an-

nounced

"Lady Annette Cathcart."

Miles —who was busy preparing his sermon for the following Sundayraised his head and looked with surprise at his visitor, then, as she advanced, he rose.

"I wonder if you are surprised to see me, Mr. Fort?*' she astted, in a clear, distinct, but subdued tone.

"Indeed, I am, Lady Annette," he replied, as he dfcsw an easy chair forward. She sank gracefully into it, then looked at htm, saying *

"Yet I think yon can guess what I have come to talk about," she said, studying hie face carefully.

"I think I can," he answered

"You had Mr. Swift to see you yesterday ?" she said, still watching him closely.

"That is so," replied Miles. "And he told you an extraordinary tale ?" she said.

"Yes, but one that I believe to be true. He produced proofs, certificates, etc."

"I'm not going to discuss the truth or falsehood of Mr. Swift's statement, that of course, can be tested in a court of law, but it means the estate and revenue? being swallowed up by the lawjers, and I don't want that to happen. I need scarcely tell you—who preach the gospel —how very wrong and unchristianlike it would be to try to wrest the estate from my son, who has been brought up to believe it was hi» birthright, and I've

come to propose a compromise ; we will give you twenty thousand pounds and you shall agree to leave things as they are. No doubt you will £nd such a sum of money useful to you," said Lady Annette, with the air of one who was conferring a favour.

"I'm sure I should," he answered, quietly.

A pleased expression came into her face.

"Then we will consider that settled, and I will send you the cheque."

Miles spoke quietly, but firmly

"No, Lady Annette, we will not consider the matter settled. I have my mother to consider, and those who come after me."

"Your mother would cut a sorry figure as mistress of Millwood Hall."

Ford's face flushed, and he spoke quickly.

"My mother would grace any house she may not 'have been born rich, and she has worked for her living, worked hard to bring me up and educate me, but she is a gentlewoman. Lady Annette, jou knew she was rightful mistress of the Hall, yet you left her to toil and struggle. Don't you think you might have offered to help her ? You might even have told her the truth and come to some arrangement before yow son grew up."

"Do you think I would have risked coming in contact with her, and as for telling her I would never have done it. I wish Mr. Swift had been drowned in crossing the ocean rather than lived to bring this trouble on me and my son."

"Lady Annette, that is a cruel, wicked thing to say," said Ford, sternly.

" Don't preach to me ; but' let us come to terms. Will thirty thousand pounds tempt you ?"

"No, I am not to be bought. I have written to my mother and I shall to a great extent be guided by her wishes ; she must have suffered bitterly and ought to be considered, but I may tell you she is a just, loving woman and she will not forget what it will mean to you to leave the Hall ; neither shall I. It seems to me that we are all suffering through a mistake having been made. Of course, as I said, I have to consider those who come after me ; it won't do to have a lawsuit when your son and I are in our graves."

"Rubbish ! Leave the next generation or two to fight their, own battles," said Lady Annette, shortly, then she added quickly :

"When do you expect to hear from your mother ?"

"I don't know ; she will want a little time to consider the matter before she replies."

"I suppose Mr. Swift has made it a condition of jour marriage with Stella that you claim the estate ?"

"Miss Swift is of age very soon, and we shall marry," said Miles.

Lady Annette laughed

"Do you know you are obstinate ? I'm inclined to think Mr. Swift won't get the better of you. I see you mean to marry Stella, so you'd better take the thirty thousand pounds and make a fair start in life. If you liked to give up preaching I daresay I could help you on in the world."

"Thank you very much ; but I hope to preach as long as I live."

"Then you. don't mean to lay claim to Millwood," she said, in a satisfied tone.

"I could preach just as well if I was master of Millwood as here. Do you know, Lady Annette, the very fact that I could do so much good with the money' has made it a temptation."

"If you let things stay as they are I will build you a grand new chapel where ever you like," she said. He smiled.

"You shouldn't try bribery, Lady Annette, and I can only tell you that I must do what I believe to be right. You shall hear from me shortly, and I shall make things as easy as possible."

"There is only one way to make things easy, and that is for you to go right away and forget what Mr. Swift told you," she said, as she rose. "I cannot promise anything," hf answered. (To be Continued.)