A Tardy Wooing.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIX, Issue 8138, 12 May 1906, Page 2

A Tardy Wooing.

CHAPTER XXl—Continued. And now she grew nervous because of tbe silence and the darkness, and scarcely knew whether to be afraid or relieved when the aroma of a cigarette floated toward her, aud she knew by the firm footfall that Harold .Outram was drawing near. dyrilla had not spent a pleasant evening. She did not feel at homo with Mrs Pembury, although that lady's polite efforts to amuse the guests were unfailing. She fancied there was a look of dissatisfaction in the .widow's eyes whenever they rested on her, and wished she had not insisted on the bright flowers aud ornaments Paulino had objected to as not quiet enough for a home dinner. As for Sir Jasper ha bad contrived to make his daughter tingle with mortification by treating Mrs Pembury as a mere housekeeper, and at as early an hour as possible Oyrilla pleaded fatigue and went to her room.

Then Harold made hia eaoape to the garden-with his cigai, for he, too, had discerned that while Mrs Pembury did justice to the beauty of bis betrothed, she was keenly alive to her deficiencies, and he preferred to avoid her till, as he told himself, ebe knew Cyrilla better, and could do her justice. Not willing to be found here, especially by him, Wynnie drew back into the deepest shadows there to remain till he had passed by. JJgFor a moment be stopped, and, bearing is head looked upward at the pale blue sky, the moonlight falling softly on the features already but too |flrmly impressed on her memory. And then he sighed, and folded his arms across his chest. Was there a bitter drop in his cup, despite all the advantages fortune bad lavished on him? Was he beginning to discover that Cyrilla was not all his fancy painted her?— not the kind of woman with whom he could pass has life happily? Whatever the cause of the depression hanging over him, it was not to be shaken off; and he sighed again as he paced slowly down the bowered walk, passing so close to the hidden girl that she could have extended her hand and touched him. But she was looking beyond him, for she had seen a man, whose steps were noiselest', uome swiftly down the walk ijn pursuit of the unconscious gHarOld. She saw him raise the heavy stick he carried, and, with a wild shriek and outstretched arms, she sprang forward.

She knew that she threw herself between him and his prey; and she tried to grasp the descending bludgeon; aud then there must have been a blank, for she remembered nothing more.

I CHAPTER XXII. ;' A JEALOUS WOMAN. Mr-a Pembury was still sitting where Cyrilla had left her, gazing somewhat sadly at a pioture of Harold's mother, and marveling {[that he should have ohoaen a wife so utterly unlike her, when Harold himself tapped for admission at one of' the windows opening on the terrace. As she pushed back the heavy damask curtains and unfastened the [ casement, she saw, to her astonishment, that he was carrying a young girl, whose white face lay on his breast, while one of her arms hung limp by her side as it were broken. "Don't be frightened, Sydney," he said, she started back with an exclamation of terror; "but take care of this poor child while 1 go with some of the men to search the grounds. There is a rascal lurking in them who wovld havn given me an ugly crack on the head if this brave girl had not proven tea it by receiving it heiself." "Who is she?"

"Did I not tell you? Msa Moylo, the favourite attendant on Lads Dartiaon. Will you send for a doctor?"

But ere Mrs Pembury could do this, Wynnie sat ur ; and wbeii she could collect her scattered senses sufficiently to know where she was, and recollect what had happened, abe was also able to declare that she was not soriously hurt.

On inspection, her arm was found to be so very muoh bruised, that it would be stiff and sore for days to oome, but tho bones were not broken. Jby springing forward bo unexpectedly she had startled Harold's assailant; and though she could not wholly prevent the fall of the blow', intended for another, its force had been considerably lessened, and her inuensibility must have prooeeded from the violence with which she was thrown to the ground. When Mr Outrain came back Wynnie had disappeared; but he fuund Mrs Pembury awaiting him ■with muoh anxiety, which . was not lessened by the failure of his efforts to discover the iaan who had attacked him.

She hud aocompanied Wynuie upstairs, and oot ouly assisted her io undressing, but remained with ber, applying an anodyne to her arm, till assured that it was comparatively easier, and that she did not doubt being able to sleep till summoned to Lady Dartidon in the morning. "Thanks for your attention to her," said Harold, as he threw himself into a chair, fatigued with trampng over the grounds in all directions.

"My dear coz, ber gratitude was sufficient repayment. 1 should think the poor child must have spent Jh: r life among very harsh, unkind people, for her eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered when she thanked me for the little 1 had done for her. flow came she to play tte role of preserver to you?" "I can scarcely tell. Did not Miss Moy.le give you any explanation?" "She said that the beautf7 of the evening tempted her into the gar-

' By Charles W. Hathaway. Author of " 3larjorie's Sweetheart," "A Long Martyrdom," "A Hash Vow," "Joseph Dane's Diplomacy," etc., etc. v

dens, and, that not wishing to encounter anyone, she stood back in one of the bowered walks when she heard you coming; but when she began to speak of your danger she trembled and became so hysterical that 1 could not question her nny further." ' "Things have come to a pretty pass when a fellow oanuot walk about his own grounds without endangering his life or someone else's!" cried Harold, hotly. "1 did not dream of being dogged when 1 strolled through the garden to enjoy a cigarette before turning in. The flrat warning ;I had of it was Miss Movie's piercing scream. Wheeling round I saw her fall, struck down by a blow evidently intended for me." Mrs Pembury r sbuddered. "I grappled with thb scoundrel," Mr Outram added; "bat he was tremendously strong, and hurled me aside with ease. Before I could make another attempt to seize him he was fgone. and 1 brought Miss Moyle to you. Thank Heaven sne was not seriously injured !" "Then you have found no traces of the dreadful man?" "Johnson stumbled over a pair of heavy boots which undoubtedly belonged to him, and must have been slipped off t-> enable him to approach unheard; but he contrived to get away, and 1 am robbed of mj revenge." "Could you identify him if ne were caDtured?" "My dear Sidney, 1 never caught a glimpse of his features. You see his back was to the very email modicum of light that stolejin beneath the boughs. Miss Moyle may have obtained a better view of him; I nope she did. that we may be able to trace him. 1 did not know I had an enemy in the world, let alone one base enough to steal upon me uu-, awares in such a cowardly fashion. Yes, 1 sincerely hope that Miss Moyle saw his face." But this Wynnie had not done, though in her heart she felt sure that it was Oiris Kenneit who had committed this murderous assault. She did not, however, divulge her suspicions, ' for what proofs could she advanoe of their being well founded? Moreover, the gamekeepers, on learning what had occurred, were unanimously of opinion that the person who attacked their young master was none other than Abner Grimes, a notorious poacher, who had been imprisoned on Harold's evidence in the lifetime of the late squire, and had often been heard to vow vengeance against him. The boots found were old and shabby enough to bear out the suggestion that Abner Grimes may have been their owner. As he was never seen in the neighbourhood again, havin?— though they knew it' not--emigrated when released from prison—the crime was always laid to his charge, and the real culprit remained undiscovered.

Oyrilla, having aooepted the poacher theory, was not as much shocked wh«n apprised of her lover's narrow ecsape as Mrs Pembury thought she ought to have been; indeed, the young lady was more inclined to flud fault with Wynnie for having been in the garden, and neglected Lady Dartison than to commend her for her courage in rushing to Harold's assistance. In fact, she said as muoh to Wynnie when she found her sitting by Lady Dartiaon's bedside with her arm in a sling, ani her cheeks still blanched with pain.

"I suppose, Oyrilla observed, "it will sound ungracious to remind you that had vou been fulfilling your duties you would not have been hurt.

"Now, Miss Moyle, we shall be able to spare you while we have a oosy chat," said Mrs Pemhury; "so wrap yourself up and go and have a drive. The carriage will be at the door in a quarter of an hour, and wnen you return you will be able to tell Liady Dartison what you think of our muchvaunted scenery." (To be continued.)

I owe a duty to myself" as well as to Lady Dartison," was the spirited reply, "and shall never regret that a longing for a breath of fresh air led me out of doors last night after she had gone to sleep." "You extfuse yourself very well; but as prowling about strange places is not very decorous, 1 must still decline to pity you." "I have not the least desire to be pitied," said Wynnie, choking with mortification. "Sou are inclined to be insolent!" retorted Oryilla, so haughtily that Lady Daratison interfered. "Nonsense, S'rilla, she's never that! Why don't you let the poor girl alone? I can see what you're aiming at—you want to send Mlbs Moyle away because I'm fond of her. You always were jealous." "When you begin to talb like a child, mamma, it is time I left you to recover your senses!" said Oyrilla, with asperity; and she marched away without bestowing any more notice on Wynnie, who, seeing that she was not regarded with much favour, kept out of her sight as much as possible. Mrs Pembury was uniformly kind, and, soon perceiving that very little consideration was evinced for Lady Dartison, and still less for the gentle girl who bore with her peevish moodH sa patiently, she came to the rescue as much as laid in her power. Under her directions an adjoining chamber was transformed into a charming little sitting room, and made as bright and gay as possible with birds, flowers, and pictures. Into this ploasaut "apartment Lady Dartison was wheeled in a reclining chair, and evinced a childish pleasure in the change.