CHAPTER XXV.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 357, 6 April 1889, Page 4

CHAPTER XXV.

FORTUNE MIII..ES UPON THE LOVKKS. In consequence of Mr Denver's visit, two days after it occurred the Shepperton family received, through the post, a large ■white card, requesting their company at Brabazon Hall a fortnight hence. 1 We must have new frocks, mamma !' exclaimed Ethel, decidedly, as soon as this important document arrived. 'We shan't be lit to be seen otherwise, for our old ones are fearfully shabby.' 'Really, child,' said Mrs Shepperton, in reply, ' I don't know that I can afford so great an expense.' ' Mamma, listen to me. On an occasion like the present, expense ought not to prove a stumbling block. It would be downright wicked to allow a few miserable pounds to stand in the way of our appearing to advantage.' So, the carriage came round to the door, and Mrs Shepperton, Ethel, Marian, and Dulcie all drove into the town of Witherly, some few miles distant, intent upon a shopping expedition. Arrived at their destination, they brought up before the door of the principal draper, whereupon the ladies pioraptly descended : all, that is to say, except Dulcie, who lemained obstinately rooted to her seat. 'Aien't you coming, child?' inquired Mrs Shepperton, snappishly. 'Don't you see you are keeping uo waiting ? Come, jump out immediately.' • Surely there are plenty of you to buy ribbons and bows !' exclaimed the girl wearily, fox-, in Bob's continued absence, the proceedings failed to interest her. 'You can do without me, can't you ?' ' Yes, of course we can. I thought it would be a pleasure to you, and that you j might enjoy havine some little say in the j choosing of your dress. A new frock is not such an every-dav occurrence as all that. However, if you like to turn your nose at it, you may.' ' I rely implicitly upon Ethel's taste. My head aches this afternoon, and the air will do it far more good than a stuffy shop.' Upon this her mother and sisters disappeared and left her to her own devices. Dulcie sat disconsolately in the sunshine, w hilat her thoughts wandered to Bob Mornington. It seemed an age since they had met, and she wondered what he could j have been doing all this long time. Perhaps, at that very moment, he might be thinking of her, just as she was thinking of him. Alter a time Bridle drove slowly down the High-street. They had not gone more than a hundred yards or so when suddenly her whole countenance brightened up most remarkably. A soft rose-colour flushed her cheeks, a smile illumined her face, and two sweet little dimples made themselves visible at the corners of her mouth. What could have caused io sudden a transition from grave to gay ? Only, to all appearances, a little ordinary white fox-terrier with a pretty, pointed, biack-and-tan head, soft, drooping ears, intelligent eyes, and three irregular black markings on his right side and back. Only such a dog a one meets every day of one* life ! Nevertheless, the explanation of Dulcie's joy was simple enough ; tor the goodnatured creature who came bounding towards the carriage, wagging his short, stumpy tail, and yelping in tones of unmistakable delight, was none other than Nipper. Aud if Nipper were here, why of course Bob must be so also. At least, so argued Dulcie, while her heart gave a great joyous leap that sent the blood coursing merrily through every vein. ' Stop, Bridle, stop !' she cried in a clear, excited voice, ' I want to get out for a minute or two.' Bridle smiled condescendingly as if he knew all about it, and immediately brought the wheezy Bessie to a standstill. Dulcie turned the handle of the carriagedoor with feverish energy, and jumped to the ground, while Nipper a regardless of his dusty paws, accosted her with gleeful recognition. ' Nipper, old boy !' she said, bending down to pat his smooth head, ' there's the master ?' The dog wagged his tail sagaciously, looked up into D'llcie's eyes, then retreated into the shop from which he had just issued, pausing now and then to see that the girl was following. Dulcie enoered the ironmonger's, and there, sure enough, stood Bob himself. She stole up behind him, and said softly : 'Oh ! Bob, is that you ? Are you too busy to speak to me for a few minutes ?' ' Too busy !' he cried, turning round with a glatl start. ' Why, Dulcie, how could I ever be too busy to talk to you ?' She coloured with pleasure at the warmth of this reception. ' I did not know. I thought you might be.' 'Nonsense. You thought no such thing. But I say, young woman, I've a crow to pluck with you. How is> it you never answered my letter, eh V A troubled look stole to her face. ' Ah, Bob i that requires a good deal of explanation.' 4 It's the tirst time that I have ever left home without your writing me a line Tell me, Dulcie, has anything happened ?' The tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. ' Yes, yes, a great deal,' she cried, hastily, trying to conquer the lump that was beginning to rise in her throat. ' Oh, Bob !' in piteoue accents, 'do you know that we may never ride together, or fish together, or, — or,' commencing to weep outj right, 'be together a — a -any m — more ?' ' The devil ! You don't say so.' * 1 do, though. There has been a most tremendous row, and mamma is dreadfully croas. ' ' And so that is the reason you did not write ?' 1 How could I ? Of course I wanted to ; I would have given anything to.'

'Do you really mean to tell me thafc the fiai baa gone forth, and we are never to meet in future, except under the maternal eye ? The news is so bad I can scarcely realise it. Surely we can manage to see each other alone now and again, even although not quite go often as in the olden days ?' She shook her head with a gesture of profound melancholy. 4 No/ she said. 'They won't let Us. I am guarded, watched, and spied upon just as if I were a criminal ot the deepest dye.' ' But chance may favour us, Dulcie. It has done so to-day, and may do so again.' 'Not very likely, once mamma knows you have returned. Why, she would not even let me ride Butterfly till you were safely out of the way.' • Things strike me as being very bad, said Bob, gloomily. Must about as bad as they can bo.' 4 Yes, Bob, that's exactly wiiat they are. And now, 5 wibh a reluctant little grimace, ' I must go back to the carriage.' 4 Aro you going already ?' he exclaimed. ' It's deuced hard lineß only being allowed ten minutes' talk, after ten long days oi waiting and wearying to catch a sight ol your face.' His words s>ont a glad thrill through hei frame. 'Never mind, Bob, we must try and chesr up, and, perhaps, for all we know, this may ptove but a passing cloud. And now I want to hear if anything has been settled about the Rocky Mountain plan.' • No, Dulcie, not as yet. Uncle Beckwith has gone to London and does not expect to return before ten days or a fortnight. 1 hope then that some arrangement will be arrived at, for I am tired of suspense.' 4 You must let me know, won't you, Bob ?' she asked, anxiously. • Most certainly. But with all these precious new rules and regulations, how the dickens can I ?' Her face lengthened, and or a few seconds she i emained lost in thought. Presently a bright smile illuminated her features. She had solved the difficulty more or less satisfactorily. • Bob.' she said. ' there's this celebrated ball of Mr Denver's. I suppose you'vo been asked to It?' ' Yes. The fellow could not well leave mo out without occasioning lemark.' 4No matter, so long as you have got your invitation. We must tind some opportunity that evening of having a real good chat together ; and perhaps, if 1 behave very well between this and then, mamma may allow me to dance with you.' 'Oh ! Dulcie, Dulcie !' he interrupted bitterly. ' Has it actually come to this, that already you talk quite calmly of our perhaps having a dance ? You — with whom I should like to sit out the whole evening.' 4 Bob !' she said, soothingly, ' neither of us can do exactly as we please, so, 1 laying her little hand on his arm, ' you must not bo cross. Mr Den irer's ball will be something to look forward to, and give us a chance of meeting.' 'If your mother thinks I'll submit to being treated like a great over-grown baby, she's very much mistaken.' ' Hush, Bob, dear ! It does seem a shame, but,' with an effort of cheerfulness, * things will all come right in the end.' 4 Yes, and in the meanwhile that fellow Denver has carte blanche to make the running exactly as he chooses, whilst 1 find myself left out in the cold. It's enough to make a chap cross.' She looked at him with loving and extenuating reproof. ' Bob, whab a stupid, hasty, dear old goose you are, to be sure ! Just as if I cared two straws for "that fellow Denver," as you call him. You can make your mind easy, for my affections are never likely to wander in his direction.' ' Dulcie, it sounds terribly selfish, I know, but it render: 8 me mad to think of their ever wandering in any direction away — well, away from your old play-fellow. ' ' They never will, Bob. And now say good-bye nicely, for I must positively be otl.' 'Good-bye, Dulcie,' he said, squeezing her small fingers in his great big ones 4 What a little brick you are ! God bless you, darling, and bake care of you, till we meet a train ' 'Good-bye, D «b. Be a good boy.' And then, with one last look, she turned away Now that she had seen Bob she once more iolc peifectly happy, and things seemed infinitely le^s gloomy and easier to bear. In fact, the began to take even an interest in the forthcoming ball, and counted off the days just fib eagerly as did Efchel herself, su that her mother wah quite hopeful over the change. If only a marriage could be arranged between the srirl and Mr Denver, Mis Shepperton felt she could rrete c t content for a space ; for, although she would have preferred Ethel proving fclic object of his attentions, iv was better that he should take to one daughter than to none, and such an alliance would yive a great lift to the other three waiting to be wed. Meanwhile Dulcie recovered her spirits. Like most women, she could endure cheerfully when assured her love was returned. Andshe no longer doubted Bob's affection.