CHAPTER XXIV.

Otago Witness, Issue 2894, 25 August 1909, Page 71

CHAPTER XXIV.

But there wa> no answer to this little letter m Rome, and many days went by before, s reply came f rom Riohard Varley. When he wrote he told her he had been ill — an attack of influenza had laid him low. "But I am memling now, and have been moist carefully nursed (he wrote from Mrfe Leggatt's" house), and I am Staying here fora , little while. It grieves me so- much, to have besa" tmaWe $o serve you,*, as you I . thinks hewever/ you might certainly risk a -letter. Hairy and his wife are back again at Wynche. They returned there for Christmas, and ■ were good- enough to wish me "to join them, which , I «vac unable to do. Evelyn is with them, however. Did " not her ■ mother beM you of the matrimonial prospect that is in- the air?. It is an open ' I secret that young Marbrooke is in l ove with Evelyn, and I shrewdly suspect si»e returns the affection. It would be an t excellent ma/triage in every way. They j are very young, of rourse, a mere boy and girl, but I a t m a. believer in young , marriages — another of my old-fashioned [■ views !" ! Later io the letter Varley epoke of Walter Barneith. I "Tour cousin cropped up again the other day armed with a letter from his mother demanding your address. I refused this demand, 'of course. Your father's cousins, the Esmonds, have written inviting me to stay with them in County Cork, for a week of cross-country riding. I am so sorry I cannot accept this; but illness has thrown m< back, | and I shall have to work doubly hard foi some time tc come. Will Miss MilI nei be very sweet and kind and send i me her news?" j M^?s Mikier obeyed almost immediately. They had travelled southwards from Rome, and w-ere in Naples ; later they would go back r< Florence, and thence to Venice. Ellen was conscious of a great wish to P.y back to England, it only for a little while ; but this was out of t<he question. And then, though she was far away, she felt ho near to those one or two who made the real scheme of life foi herJ" She pondered the question of Evelyn very tenderly ; slie wondered if this news which Varley gay* her so lightly and so unconcernedly could hav£ truth in it. Almost ene xegvetted this, if it chould be irue, for Ellen had a real affinity with romance ; bub again she saw it in a happy light as solving z problem which had threatened to press u.'uelly on Evelyn's heart. , And such a marriage would be so fitting, far apart from the knowledge which. Ellen bad of Richard Varley's intimate feelings, she saw a certain incongruity in the suggestion of Evelyn Wynohe as his wife. It was pleasant at lea6t to liemiember that dear little Evelyn's secret had •never been shared. In Naples there was e< muc ihto do, so many excursions, Ellen was too tired for active thought. The noise, the sunshine, the crowds, were distracting. "Wait till we get to Venice ! You shall lie in a gondola and sleep all day," eaid Consuelo Blaydon. "I don't know that I want to sleep," Ellen answered. Indeed, as the days passed there crept into her veins a curious suggestion of excitement — that kind of nervous apprehensive excitement which fore- , shadows the approach of some great ■ e^sni. They reachied Venice on a grey • day — a coiu"dsy. J&fc Blaydon had taken i a paflazzo in one of the~ ejde_ canals — a . splendid old Venetian palace, wit3r tk»*kr polished floors and priceless tapestry on the walls. At the back there stretched a ! wonderful garden. m I "ItVj just too bad that the sun isn't i shining," Consuelo Blaydon declared "But never mind, it is sure to come out to-morrow, and then, Ellen — then " ] But even grey and cold as it was, the < magic of this most poetical city stole into \

lapping on the worn steps, the quaint I .haunting cry of the gondoliers, with their J graceful hooded craft ; the stained and ' exquisite colouring of the great .-cone walls — al' was beautiful, dreamlike, most peaceful. The palazzo itself was eloquent of centuries dead and gone — of romances, of tragedies. The great 'engbb of the polished chamber, with its tall windows opening at one end on the canal, at the other on the fresh young green of the garden, filled Ellen with a sense of awe. "It is all go noble, so lofty j it does not seer.- as if people living In a place like this could have any small thoughts," , she said to Mr Blaydon, but he only laughed and shook his head. "You must read the history <fi this palace," h« said ; "but not yet. Be happy with your illusions while you cam, my dear." It was with delight that Ellen heard they were to stay two months a/t least in Venice. The fascinating influence of the place took firm .grip of Ellen - as later they were carried up the Grand Canal in toe handsome 'gemdoi^. draped in-fthe cue- • toinuary -blac3q«*havihg two gondoliers weaning dark- .Hue ' sashes-* - and ' 'silver 1 badges on theif '. arms. I*ast the Madonna de la Sakrfca tp- t]a*> Quidecca they went^ and Whence pait the R6yai P&JaCe'to the 7 Piazza* Sap .Mabcq *nd" tlie Palazzo, Ducate. Ellen, looking eagerly from side to side^ was «wept absolutely' away- fronf those thoughts and memories which had' "lived with her so •onetantly and so sadly. In front of the Piazza San Marco the gondola was stopped tc let her feast her eyes on. the wondrous picture. . "When the sun comes out!" said Coneuelo. But Ellen did not miss the sun ; there was a softness, a harmony in the subdued colouring which had a special charm for her. Just for * tittle while that curious, uneasy feeling, that sensation of apprehension, was quieted. Her unspoken delight was infectious. ",I've been here twice already," said . Consuelo Blaydon; "but I guess I'm, v going to see it for the first, tame now. The next d!ay — for a succession, of days — the mm blazed but, and then Ellen rain through the gamut rA other and more bewildering sensations. 1% was spring in Italy— na wondrous, a glorious spring. Over the high walls of many of those TPysteiious palaces- branches of tender ort aping .green hung down to make reflection in the still water. In a day or two tJ»e pale pink mauve of the wisteria wouJ.d mingle with the 'green. The sun. brought out as in *■ mosaic all the colours - which* age and 'the elements had threaded' toget9rer. The water-had a little tipple on it, and the sun turned the ripples into milliops of dancing jexvels. ' f At' the Guidecca there were three I .stately yachts riding at anchor, and be- ; yond, stretching along the side of the Zat- , tare, that quarter so beloved by artists,, ' clustered a' large number of Dalmatian boats and fishing smacks} witih their wonderful red and orange-painted sails beaT- , ing sacred images and othei curious emj blems. Ellen and Consuelo frequently left the "gondola after a timer, and wended • their way homewards through the quaint j 1 ■streets and over innumerable bridges, • stopping at almost every step to exclaim anew at some fresh revelation of beauty. ) So they walked one ' labs afternoon about 10 days after they had been in Venice. As they passed in through the huge doors which admitted them to the great entrance hall stretching to their apartments — s spacious place this entrance, " paved with mosaic, and having armorial bearings painted and carved on the walls — ■they were noisfc by -Mr Blaydon 's courier, Wiho informed Eller that a gentleman was above waiting to see her. JThe girl's heart beat wildly, and she stood suddenly still. "A gentleman," she faltered. "What is his name?" Back with a hot rush came that painful apprehension, that weighty senee of something sad approaching. "He gave no name, miss," said the courier, "but he has only just' arrived from England. The gondola he came in brought him..jErpai the station." Wihite 'to the- lips, Ellen paused; then she said to Consuelo : "It is Mr Varley— l don't know who else it can be — and: I—lI — I- am afraid he comes to bring me bad naws." There came awiftly to Ellen a «ense of reproach, because ehe had not written jiut of late to Varley. Consuelo took her hand and pressed' it. The young girl looked like crying. She turned arwr went into the garden, and Ellen mounted the polished stairs ebove very slowly. She felt cold, and she was trembling. Why should Richard Varley have come? The big salon seemec" empty as she entered, but as she advanced someone came from out of tine shadow of a tall screen, and moved to meet her. It was not Richard Varley's tall, familiar figure — it was Lord Norchester ! Just for an instant they stood, looking at one anothei in silence, \hev the man spoke : "I — I have alarmed you, I am s< eorry. I ought to have sent you a telegram. Dick urged me to telegraph; I am sorry," he said again. ' Ellen put her hand to her throat. "Why haw you come? Is — is— — " He bo-wed his head. ''Miriam died a week ago. She was buried on Tuesday. I air here to bring you this." He put his hand into bis breast-pocket and produced a letter. "She said I was to give ifc ,to you myself with my own hand. It was her last wish, and I obeyed it. I could not refuse to obey," Mien sat down. "Bead/ she whispered— "dead-,1" Then she said with- a "little cry ef reproach in her voice, "And I ''did not know ; no on© remembered to let me know." Norahester winced. "The end came so suddenly and very peacefully. We had been talking together, and she had given me your Trttle- letter to read. If you could only realise hW happy that letter made her I' 4 ,

His voice was tired, husky, like tk« voice of one who has finished some great physically-«xhausting task. It was so long since_ she had heard him speak I She awakened in this moment to the knowledge that life,' despite*- all its new; and wonderful experience, had been barren, empty, meaningless without Jihe sound of .hat voice, bereft of the thrillng joy of his presence. She looked afc him for the first time, and winced in hen turn : he was so changed, so changed ! "You must be very tired ; please sife dawn," she said in a low voice. But Norchestef refused courteously "I am going, on to Milan to-night ; my train leaves in an hour."

The letter he had brought lay. on the table. Ellen's eyes were blurred with tears. - f

"You have come a long way — it — it was good of you." "I promised Miriam." There was silence again between them ;' then Ellen «*poke : "You — say she was glad to have my, letter, and I— l have been so miserable. I have tortured myself wondering, questioning; I have been so afraid I indghtf have,' done harm by writing. 'f "We .have none of us known what was in her heart ; she • has been so silent. Even I, who have been witb her always, never imagined' that ,©he was harbouring a secret that must have been so hurtful. When your letter came, it opened her lips ; she laid bare her heart to me, poor Miriam."

She was crying openly now. and did not hide her tears.

J'lt is cruel," said Norchester almost snarpty, "that you. should be shadowed with our troubles. Dick was right. He told me to wait. He said you would bo made sc unhappy; but — but I felt I had to come. Perhaps you understand?" Between her tears Ellen answered him;! "Yes, I understand." She pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.

"But I wish you would rest You mustt be so tired — so very tired. It is such a long journey to come straight through from London."

He gave her a faint smile. 'The journey is really nothing; P, caught the 'train de luxe.' I slept for-, several hours, and I must be going on." ij have kept a gondola to take me back to the station He broke off: "You. aTe well? These people you are with, they are good to you? They treat you' pro^serly?"

' "I an? very well. Nothing could exceed ,the' kindness 1 - of Mr Blaydon and his daughter." . - ' Ellep had' risen. They did not look ati one another, neither did. they clasp hands. ■ Lord>/NoTchest«r had picked up his eoft>' travelling hat. "Evelyn ssnt you sc many messages I cannot remember them all. She and my, motiief were at' Wynche; they wanted to follow- her to the grave. Now they ar«L in London. Evelyn will marry Mai> brooke, I think. There is no settled jen< fjagement, but there will be one nov* directly." He paused, and now he looked at hie*

"It goes through my heart to see you witb tears on your face. Will you for*

give me?" "If you" had failed ncr in her last wish' I would have found it hard to forgive* you," Ellen said. &he caught her breath. ''Good-bye," she eaid, "and— and God bet with you." - She walked away from him, finding her way through a mist of tears to the window overlooking the garden. Norchesterlooked after her; the hands holding his hat trembled, and his lips quivered, buti he did not speak again, nor did he follow her. He crossed the, polished floor and passed out of the room. (To be joneluded.)

Jose B. Capablanck, olies prodigy of Cuba, established a. record in simultaneous chess during kis visii to Schen«ctady, N.Y. Th# young \Cub«n opposed- 80 playero wmulian«ously, and made a oktr sweep on all th» bosxda.