A Tardy Wooing.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIX, Issue 8140, 18 May 1906, Page 2

A Tardy Wooing.

CHAPTEK XXV.—Continued. A sfceru "Pana, will you be quiet,!" reminded Sir Jasper of tb« mistake be made in discoursing tefore an indifferbut person of those early days he was often tempted to regret. To disguise his embarrassment, he*, begau opening and shut' ting the windows, "complaining of the slowness** with wb'.oh the cabman let his horse climb the hill leading to his Villa, nnd threatening to make a formal remonstrance to the man's employers. ™ One of these dipplays of the knight's generally had the effect of irritating Cyrilla into an ill humour; but now her attention was pre-occupied, and she addressed her elf to Lady Darlison. "If Chris Kennett ventuies to come hero any more, remember, mammn, you are not to receive him!" was §her daughter's imperious command. "Send word that you are out—engaged—ill whatever you prefer to 6ay—but never allow him to poison your ears with any more falsehoods to the disparagement of Mr Outiam. Promise me that you will not—you must—you shall I" To enforce her request. Cyrilla took hold of one of the bands lying bo limply in the lap of the invalid. It did not return her pressure, nor was the response given she had demanded. She put back the veil that had partly fallen overher mother's face. How gray it was—how ghastly! She glanced at Wynuie, on whose shoulder tho heavy head was lying, and, whep their glances met, each eaw in tba ey?s of the other the apprehensions ihni ..ifiero momentaiily gathering force. "She is ill, vary ill! Wjunlo faltered, and the reproaching conscience of Cyrilla answered, "Shu is dying!" f- _____ 'i— • CHAPTER XXVI. A QUESTION THAT OAUSuiD AGITATION. When Harold Outram arrived at Cbislehurst, he devined, from the closed shutters of the villa, that her Hidyship was no more. She bad expired shortly after she waa ; carried into the house; her last word, her lagt look', [having been bestowed OQ WynfiJe Moyle. Thel deepiy. shocked nad sorrow. Stricken Sic ifssßiii.' sliut .himself in his room, Tolusing consolation. Too with keen re> morse that his wealth had not been employed to promote the happiuess of the loving helpmate who had shared his poverty without murmur. He tried to manifest the sincerity of his grief by ordering for her funeral all thope trappings of wop—leathers and velvets, mutes and handsome carriages—-in which such petty minds as his find a melancholy gratification; but at the last moment rescinded the order, and followed her to ner grave without the •" ostentatious following, which would only have added to his .self-re-proaches. As ' for Cyrilla—careless of her mother as she had been, treating her not alone with indiffereuce, but contempt—she oould not see her expire without being powerfully affected. Her better self was generally masked by vanity and ambition; but now she comprehended that she had lost her truest, if not her wisest, friend, and wept for her with the bitterness engendered by the knowledge that she had often treated her unkindly. Really remorseful, she now grieved so immoderately as to make herelf ill. For some day she was unable to raise her head from her pillow, neither could 4 she endure the sight of her father or Wyuuie Moyle; by reminding her of the dead tbey aggravated her regrets, and the house was ' indeed, a house of mourning. Linda came a 9 soon as she heard of Lady Dartlson's decease, and devoted herself to her cousin; while Wynnie endeavoured to be useful to Sir Jasper, who wandered about the house and gardens s missing at every turn the wife whomj in her lifetime, he had snubbed for homeliness.

He would have been yet more miserable but for the unassuming girl who folded his newspapers, read albud the moat interesting paragraphs, poured out bis coffee, coaxed him to eat his lonely dinner, and sat patiently beside him all through the long, dull evenings, enduring the nauseating odour of his pipe, and listening to his old stories, out of that divide compassion that saw in him, not the wealthy knight able to pay liberally for such services but a bereaved, old man, more solitaiy m his handsome house than he would have beeu iu the lowly of his youth. It was Wynnio who had to receive Harold Outram, and anwser hia enquiries, for tiinda could not leave her cousin, and Sir Jasper shrank from seeing him just at present. Dressed in the new' mourning ordered for every member of the establishment, and dressed becomingly, with the pretty flush on her cheek |it always assumed when she approached her unconsoious bridegroom—thore was a charm about the fluttered Wynni& that Harold Outram discovered for the first time. Yet he spoke to her with a more chilling gravity than his nianner had v ever worn before, for he'was vexed with himself for the pleasure, with which bis oyea had dwell on the slender figure and delicate faoe of the girl trembling before him. It was an insult to Uyrllla, especially ] now thnt she was ill, and in such deep affliction. Wynnio was quick to feel the changa iu the voice that had been i wont to soften when addressing her, and it cost her an effort to answer 1

By Charles W. Hathaway. Author of " Marjorie's Sweetheart"A Long Martyrdom," (( A Hash Vow,"2" Joseph Dane's Diplomacyetc., etc.

He comprehended that ho had given pain, though he scarcely knew how, and lingered to make atonement by repeating the messages for dear Mis# • Moyle—not remembered till now—with which he had been entrusted by Mrs Pembury's little daughters. How oould be help remembering, also, that when he lauehinyly said tu the children, "Of course I aoi to say all these pretty things to Miss Dartison as well," they responded promptly, "Oh, no; it was not she who loved us and played with us; it was only Miss Moyle." Again he took himself to task, and again his voice assumed those cold, grave accents as be observed: "We have not succeeded in trapping the rascal who cost us so much uneasiness; but my people are still on the watch for jjbim. They hope to pounoe upon hin at some unexpected moment." "But he is not lurking about the Towers now,' eaid Wynuie. reoolleoting wbat relief it had been, to her to batch sight of this detested Ohiis Keunett daily patroling around the villa and making calls of enquiry. While he was in this neighbourhood, Mr Outram was safe,and, though she had shuddered and fled the previous day when Sir Jasper's longing to see an.l speak with an old friend induoed him to receive the pertinacious visitor, she had also said, to herself, "As long as he haunts this neighbourhood, and Mr Outram stays at bia own house, I need not fear what he may do." Uut Harold was speaking, and in aouents of surprise.

his questions in the same'measured, matter of-fact tones as he had adopted. Not once did she venture to look up tillhfi was on the point of going away and v»as giving her a message for Cyrilla expressive of his sorrow and sympathy. "You will not forpet what lam sayinct, Miss Moyle? You will repeat it faithfully." "Ah, now Wynnie raised her eyes, and they were moist with wounded feeling. Forget words spoken by him? Neglect his wishes, even though he bade her bear assurances of his undying love to the woman who was about to usurp to which she might adf-ince a claim. How oould he think so meanly of her?

"You say the fellow is no longer lurking about my place. What makes you spe&k of thin BP oorfldently—eh, Miss Moyle?" Ths question reminded her thai she had made an incautious admission. Was she prepared to follow it up with an avowal that would have rendered it impossible for her to remain at Ohlslwburst another day—another hour? No; she shrank into herself and closed her lips tightly. This was uot a moment in which to draw attention to her extraordinary position; a bride, yet no bride, carrying in her bosom her wedding ring and the cirtiflcate of her marriage, yet dwelling under the same roof as the beautiful woman who regarded Harold Outram as her fiance. «'y o "u do not answer me," he said, on finding that she was leaving him without another word; bat, seeing that the attempt to detain her was causing unfeigned distress, he smiled, and and let her eo. She was au easily frightened child, and, having her head full of the teror inspired by the poacber'a attack upon him, thought eveiy man she chanced to meet another Abel Grimes. Nor when he actually met Ohris Kennett at the entrance gate, did he imagine that the stolid-look-ing individual, who mude but the slightest response to his civil greetting, detested him with all the rancor of an evil nature, believing that it was his superior advantages that had robbed him of the heart of Gyrilla. ' The funeral over and the shutters unclosed, the house resumed its u«ual aspeot. Sir Japser began t ( o bustle about ar/d give contradictory orderi as of old, Oyrilla consented to emerge, trorn the seclusion of her chamber. Her grief had been too violent to be lasting, and as soon as Linda saw that her spirits were recovering their -tone, she began to speak of returning to her studio. Wynnie was to accompany her; they had talked this over more than once, for both had learned the lesson of prudent. Wynnie was far too right-minded to consent to be a burden to her friend, nor would Linda assume responsibilities she could not meet. But fortune was beginning to smile on the industrious young artist. Her groups of playful children were attracting admiration by their grace as well as their fidelity to nature, and she had so many orders on han'l that she could ill spare the time devoted to her cousin. Wynnie could be of immense assistance to her now that she was compelled to spend so many hours at her easel, and both were looking forward to the moment when they should commence a pleasant, if laborious, life together. When Cyrilla learned their intention, she remonstrated against it so angrily as to bring on a return of the hysterical fit that had seized ber after the death of bei mother. She could have done without Linda very well, for she stood in some awe of the discernment and candour that characteriseds her clever kinswoman; but Wynnie she positively refused to spare. (To be Continued.)