CHAPTER XIX.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 281, 14 July 1888, Page 3

CHAPTER XIX.

THE OOUKTESS KKTURNb. Tjik bun had dropped out of sight, and the du&ky mantle of twilight hung over the Aljrinc summits bofore the Countc&s of Strathspey returned to the spot where Colonel Verney awaited her. The officer was t>moking fiercely and growing 1 desperately impatient, yet his sphinx-like face "was cool and smiling, and his manner the very peifection of thoroughbred politeness. He gave the lady one keen y lance as t>he approached him, and made up his mind that she had not seen her husband, and knew nothing of his ha\ ing followed her ; and he concluded not to enlighten her, bub to get her on her homeward route, and leave her to settle ■u ith the earl as best she could. He sighed, and his eyes softened as he looked down on her fiagile, child-like beauty. How he had loved her once ! And now s>he had not the power to stir his heart, save with a brother's tender pity. He was thoroughly in love ■with his brilliant fiancee, Mi3S Julia Beresford, independent of her ten thousand a year. Lord Strathspey was a fool, if he had only been -wise enough to know it. Lady Strathspey's face was flushed and eager, and she clutched a little package in both hands, as if it were an invaluable treasure. I Well, Lady Strathspey,' said the colonel, as he handed her into the vehicle, ' I trust you have met with success.' ' The child is mine, Colonel Verney,' she replied, solemnly; 'he has the Strathspey bhth-mark on his right arm— he is my child, my babe, that was stolen from me.' ' I have no doubt of it, madam, but I'm afraid you'll find it difficult to pro\e it,' replied the colonel ; ' the other boy, you say, has the birth-mark, too?' ' Yes, he has ! That is the only thing I cannot account for. Poor little boy, lam \ery fond of him, and he shall always be as my own,' .she said, with emotion ; ' but my ow n boy, in the valley yonder, Lord Strathspey's truo son, shall be his heir.' 'But, my dear lady,' continued thecolonel, ab they sped along through the deepening twilight, ' how do you purpose bringing this about? Have you sufficient proof to convince yoiu husband, and establish the child's claims ?' ' I have the child's clothes,' she eaid> clasping the little package to her bosom* ' the same lie had on when they found him under fcho milch-goat. Only a plain slip and a quilted flannel cloak, but I thought 1 would take them.' ' I hope you'll succeed, but really it looks very doubtful,' responded the practical colonel. ' I know it docs ; but Heaven will help me, Colonel Verney. He sent mo to my child, and I shall look to Providence for help and direction. I never will abandon my purpose, never while I have life and reason. My boy thall be hia lather's heir, if it costs mo my life and happiness.' Her palt face glowed in the twilight with the light of inspiration and deathless determination. Colonel Verney regarded her with admiring wonder. I 1 beg your pardon, Lady Strathspey,' he said, at labt ; ' but lam older than you, and wiser in experience ; allow me to advibe you to tell your husband everything as soon as you meet him ; concealment between man and wife is like playing with edged took.' 1 Yes,' she responded ; ' but I want to spare my dear husband all the anxiety and suspense I can. As soon as I can see my way clear — ' 4 But you may cause him far deeper anxiety in regard to yourself in the meantime,' interrupted the officer ; 'he may misconstrue your motives and actions. She turned" upon him, her blue eyes blazing in the gloom. ' Mifcconstrue my actions ? What do you mean, Colonel Verney 'I My husband does not mistrust me, ■would nol, under any circumstances. How dare you insinuate I &uch an impossibility ?' ' I beg your pardon ; you will see one day that I am right, and have your welfare at heart. And now, are we to find lodgings for the night, or to start off on our journey at once ?' ' Oh, start at ouce by ail means,' cried the countess ; 'we have not a moment to lose ; 1 viitft get home before my husband returns trom London,' ' Poor thing !' &ighed the colonel ; 'it will be a cruel blow !' They proceeded at once into France, and having seen her ladyship safely on board the Dover steamer, Colonel Verney went on to Paris to &cc his sick friend, wishing in his inmost heart that his friend had been at the antipodes before he sent the message that caused him to start on such an illstarred journey. The countcsss reached Sevenoaks before the arrival ot her husband, and found her household, all in good order, and her guests making themselves comfortable. She felt intensely thankful, and occupied the following day in making out a concise

statement concerning 1 the chikl she believed to be hcv own, to be put in the hands of Sir Henry Galbvaith, her solicitor. She was very determined and vory anxious to have the matter investigated at the earliest moment. Pondering over Colonel Verney'f advice, she concluded at last to tell her husband everything, and, if possible, to enlist his sympathies and co-operation. But her husband did not return ! A week wont by ! Another followed, and still he was absent.. The shooting season was famous, but the earl's friends began to think that their host was treating them rather shabbily, and ono by one took their flight. The countess grew anxious, and telegraphed to London, and to her utter consternation, she learned that the earl had not been seen. She 'telegraphed a second ! time, to his club address, and to his sister, Lady Neville, with no better success. Ib was evident that the carl had not been in London, Tho poor wife's anxiety knew no bound?. She forgot her child and everything else in her fear for the husband she loved so well, and was just on the? point of .starting for London herself to learn what had become of him, when he, all at once, made his appearance. Judith met him in the hall on his firat arrival, and stood still in wondering honor. No grave-yard ghost ever looked moie ghastly. Recovering her wits in an ins" ant, and divining that something terrible had belallcn him, she fled like the wind lo her lady's chamber. The countess was icading, or making a pretence to do so, but she looked up ag Judith enteicd. MY ell, what is it?' she questioned, seeing in the girl's face that she brought some intelligence. 1 My lady, Lord Strathspey has come.' The countess sprang to her feet. 1 Oh, thank Heaven,' she cried, l where is he, wheic is my dear husband V She was about to rush out in seat ch of him in her joy, but Judith caught at her arm. 'One moment, my lady,' she implored. 'I think my loid is ill — or— .something has happened — don'b go just 33 r eb.' Bub the anxious wife shook her ofF. 'Is he ill? Stand out of the way, Judith, let me go to him.' She freed herselt from the girl's detaining hands, and turned toward the door again, and there, face to face, she met her husband. f To In Coiilinmd. )