CHAPTER III.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 391, 7 August 1889, Page 6

CHAPTER 111.

HOW LADY CATHEKON CAME lIOMI}. Late in the aifcernoon of a September day Sir Victor Catheron. of Catheron Royals, brought home his wife and son. His wife and son ! The county stocd astounded. And it had been a dead secret. Dreadful ! And Inez Catheron was jilted ? Shocking ! And she was a soap-boiler's daughter ? Honible ! And now when this wretched, misguided young man could keep hi* idly a secret no longer, he was bringing his wife and child home. The resident gentry sub thunderstruck. Did he expect they could call ? (This was the gentler sex.) Plutocracy might jostle aristocracy in the background, but the line must be drawn somewhere, and the daughter of a London soap-boiler they would not receive. Who was to be posi tivc there had been a marriage at all. And poor Inez Catberon ! All, it was, very sad — very sad. There was a, wellknown, well-hidden taint of insanity in the Catheron family. It must be that latent insanity ctopping up. The young' man must be simply mad. Nevertheless bells rang and bonfires blazed, tenantry cheered, and all the old servants (with Mrs March, the housekeeper, and Mr Hooper, the butler, at their head) were diawn up in formidable airay to receive them. And if both husband and wife were very pale, very silent, and very nervous, who is to blame them ? Sir Victor had set society at defiance ; it was society's turn now, and then — there was Inez ! For Lady Catheron, the dark, menancing figure of her husband's cousin haunted her, too. As the bier, turreted, towered, ivied pile of stone and mortar called Catheron Royals, with its great bell booming, its Union Jack waving, reared up before the soap-boiler's daughter — she absolutely cowered with a dread that had no name. 'I am afraid !' she said. * Oh, Victor. I am afraid !' He laughed — not quite naturally, though. If the painful truth' must be told of a baronet and a Catheron, Sir Victor was afraid too. . , ' Afraid ?' he laughed : *of what, Ethel? The ghost of the tlrey Lady, who walks twice in every year in Rupert's Tower? Like all fine old families, we have our fine old family ghost, and would not part with it for the world. I'll tell you the legend some day ; at present " screw your coui'age to the sticking place," for here we are.' He descended from the carriage, and walked into the grand memorial hall, vast enough to have lodged a hundred men, his wife on his arm, his head very high, his face very pale. She clung to him, poor child ! and yet she battled hard for her dignity, too. Hat in hand, smiling right and left in the old pleasant way, he shook hands with Mrs Marsh and Mr Hooper, presented them to my ladj', and bravely inquired for Miss Inez. Miss Inez was well, and awaiting him in the Cedar drawing room. They ascended to the Cedar drawingroom, one of the grandest rooms in the house, all gilding and ormolu, and magnificent upholstery — Master Baby following in the arms of his nurse. The sweet face and soft eyes of Lady Catheron had done their work already in the ranks of the ser- I vants — she would be an easier mistress to serve than Miss Inez. * If she ever is mistress in her own house,' thought Mrs Marsh, who was ' companion ' to Miss Catheron as well as housekeeper ; ' and mistress she never will be while Miss Catheron is at the Royals.' The drawing-room was brilliantly lit, and standing in the full glare of the lamps — was Inez. She was gorgeous this evening in maize silk, that was like woven sunshine ; she had a white camellia in her hair, a diamond cross on her breast, scented laces about her, diamonds on her arms and in her ears. So she stood — a resplendent vision — so Sir Victor beheld her again. He put up his hand for an instant like one who is dazzled — then he led forward his wife, as men have led on a forlorn hope. 'My cousin,' he said, ' my wife ; Inez, this is Ethel.' There wais a certain pathos in the simplicity of the words, in the tone of his voice, in the look of his eyes. , And as some very uplifted youncr empress might bow to the lowliest of her handmaidens, Miss Catheron bowed to Lady Catheron. ' Ethel, 1 she repeated, a smile on her lips, { a pretty name, and a pretty face. I congratulate you on your taste, Victor. And this is the baby — I must look at him.' There was an insufferable insolence in the smile, an insufferable sneer in the compliment. Ethel had half extended a timid hand — Victor had wholly extended a pleading one. She took nob the slightest notice of either. She lifted the white veil, and looked down at the sleeping baby. ' The heir of Catheron Royals,' she said, ' and a fine baby no doubt, as babies go. I don't pretend to be a judge. He is very bald and very flabby, and very fat jusb at prc&ent, Whom does he resemble/? Nob

you, Victor. 0. no doubt the distaffside of the house. What/ do you call him, nurse ? Nob christened yet ? But of course the heir of the house is always christened at Catheron Royals. Victor, no doubt you'll follow the habit of your ancestors, and give him his mother's family name. Your mother was the daughter ot a marquis, and you are Victor St. Albans Catheron. Good' customs should not be dropped — let your son's name be Victor Dobb Catheron.' * , , She laughed as she dropped the veil, a laugh that made all the blood in Sir Victor's body tingle in his face. But he stood silent. And it was Ethel who, to the surprise of everyone, her husband included, turned upon Miss Catheron with flashing eyes and flushing cheeks. 'And suppose he is christened Victor .Dobb Catheron, what then? 1b is an honest English name, of which none of my family have ever had reason to feel ashamed. My husband's mother may'haye been the daughter of a marquis — my son's mother is tho daughter of a tradesman — the name that has been good enough for me will be good enough for him. I have yet to learn there is any disgrace in honesb trade.' Miss Catheron smiled once more, a smile more stinging than words". 'No doubt. You have many things yet to learn, I am quite sure. Victor, -tell your wife that, however dulcet her voice may be, it would sound sweeter if r( not raised so very high." Of course, it is to be expected — I make every ,allowance, poor child, for the failings of her — class. The dreesing-bell ia ringing, dinner in an hcur, until then — au revolt. 1 \ Still with that most insolent smile she bows low once more, and in her gold silk, her Spanish lanes, her diamonds and splendour, Miss Catheron swept out of the room. And this was Ethel's welcome home. Just two hours later, a young man came walking briskly up the long avenue leading to the great, portico entrance of Catheron "Royals. The night was dark, except for the chill white stars — here under I the arching oaks and elms not even the starlight shone. But neither for the darkness nor loneliness cared this young man. With his', hands in his pockets he went along at a swinging pace, whistling cheerily. He was very tali ; he walked with a swagger. You could make out no more in the darkness. The great house loomed up before him, huge, black, grand, a row of lights all along the^ first floor. The young man stopped his whistling, and looked up with a smile nob pleasant to see. 1 Four yeai-s ago,' he said, between his teeth, * you flung me from your door like a dog, most noble baronet, and you swore to lodge me in Chesholm gaol if I ever presumed co come back. And I swore to pay you off if I ever had a chance. To-nigh fe the chance has ccme, thank& to the girl who jilted me. You're a young man of uncommonly high stomach, my baronet, proud as the deuce and jealous as the devil. I'll give your pride and jealousy a chance to show themselves to-night.' He lifted the massive brass knocker, Und brought it down with a clang that echoed through the house. Then he began whistling again, watching those lighted, lacedraped windows. ' And to think,' he, was saying inwardly, ' to think of our little Ethel being mistress here. On my word it's a lift in life "for the soapboiler's pretty daughter. \ I, wonder, what 'they're all about up",tl\ere npw, and,, how Inez takes it. I should -'think there waust have been the dickens to when she heard it first.' The heavy door swung back, and a dignified elderly gentleman, in black broadcloth and silk stockings, stood gazing at "the intruder. The young man stepped from the outer darkness into the lighted Tvestibule, and the elder gentleman fell back with a cry. , • ' • Master Juan !' Juan, Hooper, if you \ please — Midler Juan. William, my old cockalorum^ my last rose of summer," how goes it V He grasped the family butler's hand with a jolly laugh. and gave it a shake that brought tears of torture to its owner's eyes. In the blaze of -the hall, chandelier "he' stood revealed, a big fellow, ,with eyes and hair raven black, and a Bold, bronzed face. - i , >..; }-'• • .i' '■■> .i^i'i't > i* ' What, Villiam !* friend of my c-hildhoodV days, " none knew thee but to. love none natned thee bub to praise" — not a word of welcome ? Stricken dumb at the sight of the prodigal son ! I say ! Where's the rest ? Tho baronet, you know, and my sister, and the new wife and kid ? In the dining-room ?' 1 In the dining-room,' Mr Hooper is jusb able to gasp, as with horror pictured on his face he falls back. ' All right, then. Don't fatigue 'ydur venerable shanks preceding me. I know the way. Bless you William, bless you, and be happy !' He bounces' up the stairs, this lively young man, and the next instant, hat in hand, stands in the lai'ge, handsome, brilliantly lit dining-room. They are still lingering over the dessert, and with a simultaneous cry, as if by one impulse, the three start to their feet and stand confounded. The young man strikes a tragic theatrical attitude. 1 Scene — dining-room of the reprobate " Don Giovanni" — tremulo music, lights half down — enter statue o f virtuous Don. Pedro.' He breaks into a rollicking laugh and changes his tone for that of every-day life. ' Didn't expect me, did you ?' he says, addi'es&ing everybody. 'Joyful surprise, isn't it ? Inez, how do ? Baronet, your humble servant. Sorry to intrude, but I've been told my wife is here, and I've come after her, naturally. And here she is. Ethel, my darling, who'd have thought of seeing you at Catheron Royals, an honoured guest ? Give us a kiss, my angel, and sajr you're glad to see your scapegrace husband! back. ' He strides forward and has her in his arms before anyone can speak. He stoops his black-bearded face to kiss her, just as with a gasping sob, her golden head falls on his shoulder and she faints dead away. (iZ'o he continued.)

A maiden desirous of a swaying figure can easily attain the same by brisk exercise with a swinging gait. | If Edison would only invent something I to make men honest what a heap of legal • trouble he would save himself. ! In the restaurant — Gus — Is that a Westj phalia ham you are eating ? Fritz — No, ib came from Maine ; it is an East failure. Yes ! It is certainly true. A»k any of your friends who have purchased there. Garlick and Cranwell have numerous unasked for and very favourable commendations from country customers on their excellent packing of Furniture, Crockery, and Glass, &c. Ladies and gentlemen about to furnish should remember thabGarlick and Cranwell's is the Cheap Furnishing Warehouse of Auckland. Furniture to suit all classes ; also Carpets, Floor Cloths and all House Necessaries. If your new house is nearly finished, or you are* going to get married, visit Garlick and Cranwell, Queen-street and Lome-street, Auckland. Intending purchasers can UavQ- * catalogue sent free.