A Tardy Wooing.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIX, Issue 8135, 9 May 1906, Page 2

A Tardy Wooing.

CHAPTER XlX.Continued

Linda bad not spoken except to the medical runu. From aim she learned what remedies to use to relieve the spasms of pain. It was all tbat could be done. No skill could avert the approach, of deatn; but whether she did or did not comprehend this, she was iudefatigable. At times, when she wired the clammy forehead, or moistened the cold lips, those already sunken eyes would open aud rest on her face till an expresson of remorse stole into them. And ouce he tried to murmur the words, "Forgive me." "I do forgive you," answered the wife, earnestly, aud ho made an effort to kiss the hand that was ministering to him with such tenderness, Mils Ayden standing by in .speecblosa' astonishment. Cyrilla camo to the door ot the room and looked in. aud Linda, remembering afterward to have seen her couisn. would have thanked her for the solicitude she testified had not Miss Daitiaou acknowledged that the step was prompted by her anxiety to got hold of Wynnie aud take hor back to Chislehurst. Lady Dartison would be lost without her young nurse, especially as her daughter was nut at all inclined to take the offloe upon herself. But here Harold Outram interposed. However useful this quiet little .Miss Moyle might be to her ladyjhip, it was plain that her place for the present was here. "Linda has one of her sisters," pouted Cyrilla. who did not like to be thwarted iu anything ebe proposed to do. "Tt'no; but anyone oau see that Miss Ayden's sympathies are with her rot with his poor wife. How is it?" "Ob, it is a long story, and would not interest you," she said, oarlessly; "besides, I am in haste to take Miss Moyle to mamma. She will distract Pauline, or visa versa, if I am absent from them both much longer. Pray go aud make my excuses to Linda, and bring the girl away with yon." "I cannot do it," Harold replied, in tones of dep feeling. "It Miss Moyle's presence comforts your cousin, it would be cruel to separate them, especially as Miss Ayden does sot appear to be the sort of person to take her place." "That is tantamount io calling me cruel" cried Cyrilla, with an offended air. "By no means, because I am sure you will not insist upon it. I will myself—if she will receive me—explain to Ladf Dartison how it is she is deprived of Mist Moyle's services." Agaiust this Cyrilla could not urge any more objections, and, though rather ungraciously she permitted herself to be led back to the carriage. As soon as Harold had taken his seat, beside her he repeated bte question respecting Linda. "How is it that your clever cousin is not on more affectionate terms with her relatives? When I infor- < med them of her husband's condition neither of them seemed to commiserate her." "It hap always been a mysterious affair," Cyrilla said, mediatatively, "and began with Linda having a small fortune left her by her godmother, and bestowing herself and her money on this Edgar Shirley." "Who and what is he?" "I'm sure I cannot tell. The rrother of one of Linda's schoolfellows, and—if my auut's judgment is to be depended on—one of the most kind-hearted, amiable, intelligent of his sex." "Is this all you know .concerning him?" Cyrilla opened her bright eyes to their full extent. "I think so; but why are you so interested in Edgar Shirley?" " "Because he professed a knowledge of me and my affairs,"*was the rather evasive reply; "that! was—to say the least of it—very puzzling." "Everyone knows handsome Harold Outram, of Outram 'lowers," laughed Cyrilla, "so why should he being one of the many astonish you?" "1 wish I could have questioned him. Is he a Londoner.?" "I have never taken the trouble to inauire. We haven't seen much of the Ayden's of late years. I have always understood that Linda's husband was so very fascinating in his manners that he was generally liked, so it was not surpiising that a poor little thing who was systematically snubbed by her elder sisters because she was younger, prettier and well dowered, should be glad to escape them by marrying him." "Bat was it not from her mother's house you brought her to assist her in nursing Lady Dartison? Had this promised union ended in a separation?" "Yes. After their marriage they went to a fasbiouable watering place, wfcere Mr Sbirely purchased a part- ] nership in some firm." ' "ft ith his tride'a dower?" "Or part of it," Criylla assented; "and Aunt Ayden used to be quite a bore, so eager was she to talk of him or to display hie affectionate and dutiful letters. For my part, I thought him too flowt>ry to be sincere." "How long did this state of affairs last?" "Not many weeks; and then late at night came Linda back to her old home, ontreating to be taken in. Her wild looks and exclamationo frightened her mother, a 1 the more tbat there was a wide, unhealed wouud on her forehead. You have seen the scar it left?" "He must have ill-used her!" cried Harold, iudignautly. "If he had, Linda never said so, and his version of the affair was such a plausable one that my aunt saw no reason to doubt it." , __,

By Charles W. Hathaway. Author of " Mavjorte's Sweetheart," "A Long Martyrdom," "A Rash Vow," "Joseph Dane's Diplomacy," etc., etc.

"Then he followed hor to London?" "Oh, yes, and appeared moat affectionately anxious respecting her," said Cynll-, yawning a little, for the subject was a tedious one. "If 1 remember rightly, be gave her relatives to understand that he had been uneasy on Linda's account for some days, as she had given signs of her mind being disordered, the wound on her face having been inflicted during an attempt to commit suicide." ".Is it possible that this was correct?" queried Harold, dubiously. "I have had a great deal of conversation with your oousin during the progress of your portrait, and have regraded her as a remarkably shrewd, seusble woman." Cyrilla shrugged her shoulders. "I told you it was a mysterious piece of business, and there are not two sides to it, for Linda preserves an ' impenetrable silence. That she feared her husband, and was determined never to return to him, is all her friends were allowed to know." "You say that Mr Shirley hinted at madness?" "Yes; and one must adm't tbat Linda has always been peculiar. But thou hers were only the eooentrioities of a tslanted, high spirited girl. She should have proclaimed her wrongs at once, not shut herself up in one room at the top of the house, leaving Edgar Shirley to say what he liked, and win over everyone to his side by his pathetic laments that she would not let him devote himself to her." "Perhaps," suggested Harold, gravely; "perhaps she was too true a wife to denounce her husband." "Theu she was very foolish," was the prompt response. "Do you would let any man ill-treat me, and say nothing about it?" Harold was silent; evidently their sentiments respecting the sanctity of married life did not accord; and there was a long pauoe, broken by Cyrilla saying pettishly: "I wish I had not been persuaded to come away without Miss Moyle; how mamma will fret and worry! It is so tiresome that she will not be persuaded to think herself well enough to try the change of air and scene her dootor advises." "Where does Sir Jasper propose taking her? To the seaside?" "She will not go there. She says the sound of the waves makes her melancholy." "Would she go to the Towers? 1 shas be most happy to see her there, if you and Sir Jasper will accompany her. Say that you will use your best endeavours to arrange this, dear Cyrilla; it is time you went to see your future home. There are many alterations required in the house before it will suit your ideas or mine of a habitable one, aud the suit of rooms tbat need to be yours need refurnishing. Why should you not give me the assistance of your advice and superior knowledge of the latest fashions of upholstery." Cyrilla hesitated. She had been longing for this invitation; until she had set foot in the mansion which, as a child, ehe had regarded with awe, there would be something unreal about her hopes of beooming its mistress. But now that it was cordially given, why did she not as cordially respond?" Perchance it was because the shadow of Chris Kennett always hung over her path. Like the sword suspended above the head of Damocles was her dread that he would yet avenge himself in some extraordinary manner. What if he were to follow her to the Towers and, forcing himself in there as coolly as he did at her father's, give the proud, sensitive Harold such a version of their earlier flirtation as to disgust him? She trembled at the thought, but her confidence in herself, quickly revived. So far Bho had succeeded io keeping Kennett at bay, and now that a splendid marriage was offerod her she would not lose it through his malice. But Harold was waiting for her answer, and beginning to repeat his arguments. He would induce his distant relation, the Hon. I*ll,B Pembury—a widow with a small income and three or four delicate children—to come aud act as bis housekeeper; she would heip him to make arrangements to secure the invaild's comfort and Sir Jasper would surely consent to accept the invitation when he knew how very much Harold wanted his advice respecting the pulling down of the old stables, and rebuilding them in a more suitable plaoe. "1 would say yes," Cyrilla told her expectant lover, "only I am afraid of Mrs Pembury. I am sure she wouli look down upon me because 1 am of such low origin." "She will look in your glorious eyes and pronounce you the fairest of Eve's daughters. Could she ask for you a more ancient lineage than that?" The flattered beauty shook her head. "Still lam afraid. In the presence of one of your aristocratio relations 1 shall feel my deficiencies to a horrible extent. 1 am sometimes tempted to wish that both you and I were nobodies.and—and could have gone quietly to church some morning, with no fuss, no curious onlookers to marvel how you could stoop to love your poor Cyrilla." (To be Continued).