THE NOVELIST. [Published by Special Arrangement.] THE ROAD TO LOVE

Otago Witness, Issue 2894, 1 September 1909, Page 71

THE NOVELIST. [Published by Special Arrangement.] THE ROAD TO LOVE

By MADAME ALBANESI, Author of " Capricious Carolin*/' " The Strangest of All Things," "Susannah .and One Other," " Love and Louisa," "The Way to Win," Etc., Etc. [Copyright.] CHAPTER XXV. flfi^H3c HE summer was very hot, and f^HE3» certain lassitude had fallen wfHnK upon Richard Valley, brought SS^H^V perhaps by the sharp illness SM^P, which had given Ms aunt conB^PReV sSierdble '. anxiety in the fKMpfwff spring" perhaps by the heat, *3mg&&- ■ P^ even, perhaps by the presrar« of oertain thoughts. r .. ,- . Mre Leggatt had triumphed over bis many objections, and had insisted upon his leaving bis town lodgings during tie.. summer taking up bis residence with bar. They spoke frequently of Ellen, who was still travelling with the Blaydons. The stay in Venice .bad been cut short, nowever, for Coasu-elo Blaydon had developed a kind of low fever, and she had been ordered away. "I leave half my heart behind me," Ellen had - written just the jight before they quitted Vendee. it was the first letter Richard Varley had received since Miriam's death. He had opened it with a little trepidation, for he hardly knew what it might contain ; but, Ellen had written entirely about the affairs of the moment. She had made no mention of any one of those con- j nected with: Wynche. Later on from Switzerland she had written again, announcing that very probably she would go in the autumn to America •with the Blaydone. "But nothing is settled," her letter saidi Richard Varley felt as though she had drifted entirely out of touch with himself and with the Norchesters. Hf saw very little of either Lady Evelyn or 'ier [ brother. Then mother had returned, and , -was settled in London again ; but Lady Evelyn was not very much "with her. j Lady Marbrooke was resolved upon giving the girl * full round of gaieties, and also, so -Varley shrewdly suspected, 'on throwing her boy and Lady Evelyn togetliei as much as possible. i?or himself, he began to feel a little old, and the loneliness of his life pressed upon him. He had parted absolutely with that dream which for a little while had been cherished so closely. If he did not absolutely cease to love Ellen in the way he had loved her, he ceased to imagine that .there could ever be any hope for ham. He knew that It Jras settled that Lady Norchester. should go back with her son and live at Wynche in the autumn. She had told him this herself ; and had ukted: "It is early days, of course, to 6peak of such a matter ; but ye 4 I cannot help hoping, Dick, that Harry vrill marry again. I don't suppose," Lady Norchester had added a little wistfully, "that he would let me say such a thing, because — he has passed through so much. You find hinr a little changed, do you?'" "Yes, he is changed," Varley answered ; "but he is ttill young, and youth must answer to the call of life." "I used to think," Lady Norchester said a little while later, "that ' Harry was really very fond of little Lady Cynthir Partington." With a curious smile Varley shook his bead "Hurry will not marry Lady Cynthia Parti ngton," ho answered, but he said nothing more. One late July evening as he let himselt into hi* aunt's garden a surprise awaited bim ; he found himself greeted by Lady 'Evelyn. ' "How lite you are!" she said petulantly. "I have been here waiting for yon for hours and hours." *'When idle peopk come to see busy people," said Varley. Lady Evelyn only laughed. "You call me idle. I am the busiest jterson. imaginable.- Why, Dick. I am amply ax>ra out. I have been doing so much. Mrs Leggatt eaid I was not to give you any tea, or you would not eat any dinner. I am going to stay to dinner," the girl added. Then she explained h&i visit. "I have come to say 'Goodbye.' Mothei and I are going up to Scotland to-morrow. We hope Harry will join us ; but he won't promise. He talks of going to Norway for pome fishing." "If he goes, I think I will join him,' ,»id Varlej , with animation. Lady Evelyn's face fell visibly. "Oh!" she said. "I thought you always liked Scotland in August." "So I do, but oddly enough I have no invitations this year. I daresay they will come later." "I can give you an- invitation now Come and stay with us!" "Dear Evelyn." said VaTley, with a faint smile. * "I shall be a very dull visitor." "You can be dull as you like ; you shall have a thorough rest ; no one shall worry you." "I'll think about it/* the man said gently. He vr-as strangely moved by her eagerness, and by the rush of ooloin into her fresh cheeks. Evelyn was prettier than ever. The transparent black gown eh.j •wore threw up the fair delicacy of he? skin and colouring. She looked, as usual, much younger than her years, ant: yet there were signs that she was quieter, 'gntvdTjL more of a woman..

"It sounds tempting,^ lie saidV And she turned to him with a ewift impulsive movement, and held ou' both her hands. "Do be tempted, Dick !"' almost in the same breath she added : "I want you — yes, I want you ; I—l'mI — I'm rather in a difficulty, and I want you tc advise me." "Little Evelyn facing problems/* said ' Varley. "Well, don't let us wait till we ! go to Scotland. Tell me what is the trouble." | They sat down under the trees, and Evelyn Wynche was thoughtful and silent ' for a long while. Then she said: "Dick, do you thinV I ought t* marry Lord Marbrooke?" | The words startled ham. The mannei j in which they were spoken startled him more. ! "Ah!" he said, "now you come to a T eal difficulty. How "-an I "id vise you? Dea: i little girl, this is something that must lie in your hands entirely." j " I am fond of him," said Lady Evelyn. | "He is awfully nice — we are splendid friends ; but — but when he asks me to j marry him — and he does it nearly every time he sees me — I— I tlways remember somebody else." m | Varley eat forward! in his chair, and stared at Her, a £rowt> contracting his brows. I "Somebody else?" he repeated ; It was indeed almost a shock to him to realise that this child, this fair young creature, could Jready have found a resting-place in hca heart for a deep and perhaps a lasting sentiment. , " Yes," said Evelyn Wynche, "somebody else ; someone very wise — a little older thami I am, but oh ! so dear ! Someone who has never troubled to think about me — or, if he has thought about me, it is as a 6tupid little girl who only wants to be amused, and who has J not the least idea of how much — how much I care for him." | Varley turned a little pale. She was not looking at him — she was looking across the garden through tlia clustering trees to the heath beyond. "There is someone you care for?" he said. She drew in, her breath and said: " Yes — someone I have always cared for. I—lI — I think you are a little stupid, Dick, j Ellen guessed my secret almost immediately." " Ellen !" Richard Varley suddenly remembered. He bit his lip, and felt his heart give a great throb in his breast. Baclr to his memory there swept those words of Ell-en's as they had said farewell andr parted at the station. "It lies in your hands to give Evelyn the happiness she needs," Ellen had said. H-a was siknt co long that the girl beside him got up quickly. "I — I think, after all, perhaps I had | better go home. lam aifraid I shall t give a lot of trouble if I stay to dinner." j The man rose, too, and 1 put out his hand. i "Evelyn, littl- girl," he said, "I — I am not clever at guessing secret/!, but you j are very dear to me, and I should like to put before you a few facts. You have met very few man, and it is so easy for a fresh young heart like yours to paint the most ordinary man as a hero. You should have a young husband^ — a- gay heart to match with yours. I believe Mai-brooke to be a fine young fellow. I believe you will be happy with him. This old wise hero of yours would grow much older and much duller." " I suppose he would grow jld>e<r, but he would never be dull ; and — and though all you say may be true, Dick, I—lI — I dont think I couM marry anybody else." | "Evelyn!" The word- eeca-ped the man's Hps with a strange expression. She glanced at him am instant, and then she covered her face with her hands. j " Oh !" she said brokenly. " You ' know- — you know!" I He took both her hands from her face and kis&ed them. "Yes, I know," he said; "but I have only known it now. It seems to rme that I must have been sleeping all this time." He pressed her hands very tenderly and then he released them. | " I should like- to go on my knees to you, dear," he said, "and thank you for ' this wonderful gift which you offer me. j If I ("j not take it, Evelyn, it is because ' — because I am your wise ol<? friend, and , I must be the one to lead you." j The girl looked at him with tears in her eyes. j "I — I know I cannot expect you to ' care .for me as I care for you,"' ehe said. "You are fo great, co clever, so strong, j and — and' it must S'sem to you so foolish j all that I feel : but I am glad that you' do know it, Dick, because — because in a ' little sense it will make me feel as if — if ( — you belonged to me. Look, there is • a cab pacing in the road ; please stop it. j I—lI — I would rather go home. You will tell your aunt I—lI — I feal I must go " j He obeyed her. and walked with her to the gate and put her into the cab, but j did not offer to go with heT ; and when ' she had driven away he stood looking ! after her. ar.d realised that his heart was thriving and that a curious seme of elation filled im. When he joined his aunt he gave her Lady Evelyn's message. | " She hopes you will forgive her, but ! she remembered something she had to do." "Of course I will forgive her." said Mrs Leggatt. "She told, me she was ' going tc try to persuade you to go to Scotland, Dick. I hope "she has sue- j ceeded." j Richard Varley did not reply for an instant, then he said slowly : | "Yes; I think I shall po'to Scotland." CHAPTER XXVI. Cottsuelo Blaydon was greatly delighted and excited at Ellen's decision, to go to America with her father and herself. i " You are going to love our home and our country, and you are going to live with us for ever and ever/ '-he declared.

A statement revised by her father. . "For an ever and ever limited by circumstances," h<, observed Ellen only smiled. She had drifted info feeling that her life had shaped itself to the imperious wishes of little Consuelo Blaydon. Certainly Consuelo had usurped great authority. "" " You may go and' see your relatives in Cork, but you mustn't stay with them longer than a week," she had ordered. She also graciously permitted a visit to Mrs Leggatt, but prescribed the length of this also. "This is all very well," her father said; "but what will you do when Ellen gets married?" " She never means to get marrieS," was Consuelo's audacious suggestion, and she appealed to Ellen foa support, "Do you, aarliivg?" And Ellen answered very quietly that Consuelo was right, and that she never would be married. " I fancy) I have heard that assertion before," said Mr Blaydon thoughtfully. Septembei had been spent in London ; the journey to America was fixed for late October. It was a certain fact that Ellen missed Richard Varley very much. He was etill in Scotland, but he promised to be back in town to see her before she sailed. During her stay in town Ellen was much annoyed by the sudden appearance of Walter Barneith. Life was not evidently prospering with Ellen's cousin ; he had a shabby and diars-putaible look. Having discovered that the American people with whom she was travelling were very wealthy, Ellen was in constant dread lest Barneith would sponge upon Mr Blaydon. She disobeyed Varley, and to safeguard any undesirable attack was foolish enough tT give her cousin what financial help was possible to her. It was «? disastrous move, as she quickly realised. Not only did- Walter return again and again to be assisted, but he pretended to misunderstand the reason which had prompted Kllen to be so generous. And this brought about a very distressing condition of affairs. For her aunt (led so blindly by her son) actually blamed Ellen for al] Walter's follies and mischievous doings. Sbe carried this belief *o far a,? to make a piteous appeaJ to the girl. Walter is infatuated " about you — it :s: s your cruel treatment which is destroying him. I know j-ou arc selfish, and care only for your 'own good, but you should have thought of this before 3'ou gave such 'encouragement to my poor boy. I entreat you to use your influence now to obtain come employment for him, to give him th« cha-nee of using his talents. He will listen to you, cruelly though you have treated him. whi&n all my prayers are unavailing. This letter decided Ellen, and the next tim-s Walter Bameith called to see her he was refused admittance. To her aunt the gin] wrote truthfully and coldly. She described Walter's treatment of hereelf as approaching persecution. I have never wished to see him, and instead of encouraging him have done all I could to keep him out of my life. My friends have already helped him, but Walter has lost a great chance. Ho is idle, and I fear vicious, and hit infatuation for myself is invented, I fancy, purely to mislead you. In my father's lifetim.3 there was no acquaintance between us, and I bitterly regret that I should have made the mistake of going to your house for a time and co exposing myself to much that has been unhappy and most trying. The outcome of this was s very determined attack on Barneith's part. Scarcely a day passed witlw>ut annoyance from him in some ihape or other. And Ellen would not confess h&r trouble to Mr Blaydon. She had moments of great loneliness and sadness during this .«tay in London. Of late she had heard very little from Lady Evelyn, and was utterly ignorant of Nor-ch-eater's *uovements. Since that day in Venice she had not heard of him. Unconsciously Ellen began to long for the time of their departure to America to come. The ties which had bound her po closely were all slackened. With Miriam's death a kind of [>eaee had fallen on her heart, but with the peace a sense of blank-n-eas, a feeling that .ill eagerness, all de-sh-e even, was calmed. The little letter Norchester had brought her lay among her few treasures. Miriam had pencilled with .such difficulty tlie words she wrote of her bitter regret : she spoke of ths lo«? Ell-en's departure was to her— she gave the gir) a glimpse of her true heart. Her husband was not mentioned, but Miriam had been happy : no one could have doubted this who read th.it little letter. And she had been eagerly glad -So let Ellen know of this happiness ; to share with Ellen so wonderful a secret. It wa? this letter which had brought the sense of peace with which Ellen was now endowed. "I believe I will ,<-tay in America," she paid to herajlf. "I would rather be far, far away." Just the very day before they w-ere to sail Evelyn Wynche returned to London, and she hastened to find Ellen "1 have something to tell you — somethings, oh ! to big and wonderful !" "I believe 1 can guefs it !"' Ellen said as she held the girl in Her arms and kisgpd her. '"You are going to be married !" j "Ellen, are yon a magician?" "No; only a very ordinary human being!" I "But I never knew this myself till yesteiday. How c-ould you gue-ss co ' quickly?" "Your eyes can tell secrete," «*id Ellen Milner, win her iare smile,, "and what is more they inform me you are not going to marry poor Lord Marbrooke." " i ''Don't call him 'poor' Lord Marbrooke," | Ladj' Evelyn .^aid hurriedly. "I don't i want any on* to be unhajjpy. I want all j the world to be as happy as I am." I

"And -what does Lady Norchester say!" queried Ellen. Whereat Lady Evelyn coloured a little. "Well, at first," she confessed, "mothei was a little disappointed, and k surprised, but now, thanks to Harry, she sees that it is the best thing for me Oh ! Ellen — I cannot believe I am going to be Dick's wife! It seems lik* a dream. Bj the way, Dick is coming to set you this evening, and now I am go'iig to tali about you. I am horribly sorry that you are going to America ; but of course you will come back — yor must come back — in time for my wedding. We are going to be married just before Christmas." Ellen made the girl chattel on about herself and her own doings. She gave ik promise — she tried to avoid all discussion about herself and her future. It was the same with Vaorley when they met an houi or so later. "I am going tr talk about you and Evelyn, and nothing else," ehe informed him. "It is all so wonderful, and 1 take a little credit to myself, because I am quite convinced that you nevei realised how closely this wonderful happiness was lying just to your hand." 'It is all very wonderful," Richard Varley answered, "and yet " "And yet?" echoed Ellen. "I know what that means. You are thinking oJ Evelyn, not of yourself. You had a preconceived idea of what her future should be, and you never took into your reckoning a remembrance of her heart. Why, Evelyn has loved you evei since #he was a little child!" Varley laughed half ®hvly. "That is what Harry telU me," he said, "and it seems so strange ; and not" onlj strange." he added, "but very sweet. 1 was afraid I was going to end my day* a lonely old bachelor. Now the future seems full of promise. I seem to begin life anew. But you cannot "lip away like this," 'Va-rley added ; "you belong to us, you are part of oui happiness. I neyei thought you would be <erious about going to America." "If you could near Consuelo Blaydon talk," said Ellen, with a faint smile, "she would tell you that it is a grand country, and that I am never, never going to leave it. 1 ' "Ab! we shall all have something to say od that score," said Varley, very quietly, and then he spoke to her about Walter Barneith. "As I have not heard from him lor some time T have a snrewd suspicion," he said, "that your cousin >' has (been worrying you." Ellen laughed, and then said : "Your suspicion- is right. Walter is giving me a great deal of trouble. He has conceived the ridiculous idea that I .1 have treated him very badly. I shall I be glad to sail if only to escape from him." j "And you never let me know?" said , VarLey reproachfully. "Is this how you , keep your promise?" i " D*eai Mr Varley," said Ellen. " I ' cannot be a child all my life. I must ! accept duties amd responsibilities on my own aocount." j " Yes, I agree with you," said Richard I Varley, " when these duties and. responsibilities are really yours ; but Walter Barneith has no claim upon you." There was a little cause, and ther Varley oaid : "May I speak about Harry?" Ellen's face was crimson for an instant, and her voice faltered as she spoke. "What — what do you wamt to say?" "I want you to &£-e Harry — I want you to be kind to him. All this time he has } been waiting to hear from you, waiting for a word that would 'bring 'iim to your side." Ellen looked at him in peal astonishment. I " Waiting tc hear from me?" ho 1 queried. I ''Yes, rightly or wrongly, he put it into his mind that you would not care to tee lor hear from him. He has feared that | the first reproach which burdened you ' foT so long, and so wrongly, would always stand) between you." ( " I—lI — I have no real right to ask Lord Norchester to come to. me," said Ellen, 1 when she could speak, and Varley laughed. ! "Have you not? I think you have. I Why, don't you know," he added, "that at a word from you he would go acroFG the world itself? I'm afraid I didn't give Harry much credit in the old days 1 for de-ep feeling oi for constancy ; but lie has proved to me that I was very un- ! just ; but perhaps you don't want to see him?" Vairley said adroitly, i Her face answered him, though not her lips. But as h-e -ose to go he smiled, and then he paid : " You must see Harry before you leave. May I tell him to come?" j And almost inaudibly Ellen whispered : "Y«s." • • » » The boat on which Mr Blaydon had taken passages for himself and liis party i wae dated to sail from Southampton ; 1 the boat train left Waterloo quite early ■ in the morning. Ellen had not closed her eyes all night. She had waited expecting some I sign from Noxchester; but none I had come, nor was there a letter in the | morning. Her only communication wa<s t -a letter from Walter Barn^eith, couched in the form of an apology, evidently dictated by Richard Varley. The prompt way in which the man had once again | diealt with this trouble brought a sense of comfort to Ellen, and at the same time 1 a little touch of envy. Evelyn's future I at least would lie in very cafe liands ! ' Her feelings were mot happy ones as 1 she drove through the streets of London j listening listlessly to Consuelo's merry ' voice. Doubt and pride md yearning struggled together. She wondered that Mr Varley should have reproached her i for any wrong to Lord" Norchester ; sure-lyi I it was not from her that any word should j have come? All these weary months she j had ibeen hungering for some sign. from. I him, and he had sent her nothing. Was

*' it possible that she xrakl break fcha( 1 silence even though her heart was tortured and the craving to have «ome knowledge, r to know whait wae passing with him, -was - almost more than sbe could bear? j At the station there were many friends ! tc say good-bye to the Blaydons. j Ellen stood alone, -aid just or a little! r while she felt as though she must break s down and burst into tears. She rememi bered in this moment that she was cut* * ting herself adrift. England was her L father's country ; it held her father's s grave, and she was going far awaj frorq. 5 these treasured, memories. She felt helpless and hopeless. Across her mind there j swept «■ big semse of resentful surprise > that her friends should not have been i there to grip her by the hand, to wish i her a safe return ; but though she glanced • from side to side every way, there was not x glimpse of Lady. Evelyn or of VarL ley. She walked apart, and sat down I on a seat, and then all at once her heart j leapt into her throat, for someone sat l down beside her and spoke her name. I " Dick Said I might come," said Nors chester, " and — amd 1 I have had a most fearful rush; they told me at Slot # I couldn't get anything; hub you know. you can get everything you want in this r life if you only try hard enough." He E laughed softly as he explained this, and - taking her hand he held it ir a grip I that was -almost painful. "I em- going - to America too," he said ; "you didn't , think that I would let you go across the k Atlantic without me, did: you? Why, I you might never have come back !" I Ellen looked at him, and- be looked at „ her; they were on a lonely part of the ' platform. The world seemed to have t gone away, and they were alone — alone, s "You are coming with me?" &aid i Ellen, in a dazed voice — "coming with > me?" i "Yes, dearest," he answered. "You , mustn't say 'No,' because I mean to r come, and wheai we get to the other side ; we are going to have a very quiet wedI ding. You know Dick and Evelyn and) . j mj mothei wanted so badly tc come to the station, but I stopped them all, for B J feared— l was so afraid that they would! let you -know what I had in my mind.' j And, oh ! Ellen, dear, I did not wanti you to stop me, because, although Dick j came back last night and told me thafcl you said he might send srus> to you, I! could not quite believe him. Oh ! the*« , months — these long awful month:, without ' sight of you ! Ellen. I don't know how II 11I 1 j have lived through tfosm. But we are nob' I going to look tack," he added firmly ;. ( "we are. going to look forward. We ai'o going to be, please God, the happiest* people on earth, except Dick and Eve- , lyn." Then he dropped his voice.' " ( "Sweetheart," he said, "you are going to 1 say that you are glad — you are going to tell me tha x we are happy?" 1 "Oh ! lam glad— l am glad!" said Ellen. i "I — I feel almost too happy." Then, with her checks hot with colour, ehe said : "But what — how shall I explain things to Mr Blaydon? He will think H so strange*' | Norchester only laughed, that merry, boyish laughter of his, which Varley had almost despaired of hearing again. 1 "No need to explain things to Me j Blaydon, Ellen — I took him into my confidence ; in fact, T owe it to him that I am able to get a berth on this boat. He promised to lend us the most enchanting little house in the country for our honeymoon." Ellen turned to him. "Harry." she «ud; "Harry — I—l1 — I don't know. You musta't be so rash ; there ! are so many that you could marry, and I "And you are the one woman I mean to marry,' ' said Norchester — "that is if you will have me. Oh ! Ellen, don't let us have any hesitation, any doubt ; let us J only remember that we love, and tliat we shall love one another always !" I They got up here, for Mr Blaydon and his daughter were approaching them. Consueio exclaimed as she looked at Ellen. "Oh!" she said, "how pretty you are? What have you been doing to yourself, Ellen? Just now I thought you were so unhappy, and I was afraid you werr fretting ; but now I guess I made a mistake.'* "Miss Milner Ls going to maiTy me, Miss Blaydon," Norchester said gaily, "and she if very happy ; that is why she is so changed. lam going out to America with you, a,nd we are all going to have a. rip- ! ping time." •t • « • • There were not wanting various people who shrugged their shoulders when they; heard of Lord Norchester's second marriage : the report of a quiet wedding in America founded a little unsatisfactory; 'out when it became known that the second Lady Norchester was the only child of the lale'Sir Patrick Milner, this little feeling of unsatisfactoriruess passed wholly away. The young husband and wife came back , to England in leisurely fashion. At their request NoTclnepter's mother had taken up her abode at Wynche, and was looking after everything for them. Lady Evelyn and Varley had settled down in a very charming house in London ; but they went frequently to Wynche, and were assembled there to be , one of the many to welcome back the j Earl and Countess o£ Norchester on their i arrival. j As Norchester handed his wife out of I the carriage he held her in his arms and. I kis?«d her before everybody. j "This is horne — our home— Ellen. God be with us both now and always!" [The End.] Mrs Tj. "Peters,' -Miramax; • Wellington^ i N.Z., says : "I can safely recommend Chamberlains Colic, Cholera, and Diarrhoea' ' Remedj to anyone suffering from "paine ia the stomach. A few days ago my little boy, aged six years, was suffering agony ' with this complaint. I only gave him al few doses of Chamberlain's Colic, Cholera, and Diarrhoea Remedy, and he was soor< well, and has not been troubled since. 1 think this remedy should be kept in every home.." For sale everywhere*