Selina's Love Story.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8205, 8 August 1906, Page 2

Selina's Love Story.

CHAPTER V. -Continued. She opened her eyes suddenly, and spoke rapidly. 'lt «s not,' sbe ( said, 'that I am afraid because one day goes by without a letter. It is, Mathilde, because 1 have realized that there has been some change in my child's later letters-that 1 leel that she is withholding fiom me Bomc important news. I scarcely know what I expect, but it ia nature to me to dread. Mathilde, I fear I did wrong to lee Dorothy go with this friend of hers. 1 Mathilde pretended "to sweep up the hearth briskly, though this, Hue the rest of the charming roomindeed, like the rest of the bouse—was spotless. 'You do wrong to torment yourself, madame; it was a. natural thing,' 'ho aoswo-ed. Mims Dorothy has a dull life alone with u° She loves you—yes, yes! in deld, who loves you; but she ia only n child, and children want other children, they want gayety and nonsense; they want life. There is no life here, ehere madamel' Mrs Baraldine's flue brows contracted, and she took up her work and said nothing. At that moment the gate tell clanged. 'There 1* cried Mathilde, hurrying from the room, 'did I not know that he had not gone?' She hastened down the garden path, but one of the father servants was before her, and had already opened the gate. Mathildo's face fell as she saw, not tho postman, bat a hansom, from whiob evidently had just alighted a gentleman, who was seeking admittance. At once the Frenob woman was on {■Ha olflrfj Mia Baraldiue had no friends unknown to Mathilde, and assuredly she bad never seen this stern-look-in«, manly Englishman before. 'Some one to inquire about the house,' she murmured to herself. For periodically strangers arrived, pretending that they had heard that this delightful old houao was to let or be sold, and anxious to look over

The other maid passed Sir George on to Matbilde. ...... 'Mrs Bataldine?' he asked, in hia blant way. . , The old servant unooncaioualy made a kind of 'reverence' to him. She answered him in French: •My rnistresß receives no one, sir.' Sir Georgo Darnstone took out hie note case. 'I beg that she will see me, be said, adopting Mathilde's language, which he opoke in laboured fashion. The moment Mathilde saw the name engraved on tLe card she gave a little cry. 'Abl yes, sir—yes, sir,' she re plied, 'but. my mistress will see you. But ' she turned pale, 'there is nothing wrong? Our dear child is well?' , ' 'There is aothing wrong,' answered Sir George Durnstone, in his quiet way, 'but 1 wish to speak with your mistress.' ' The ej*ea of the old Pcrenoh woman twinkled suddenly as fehe turned to take his card into the house; she methodically rubbel her bands together. Shrewdly she ha 1 guessed his mission. ■ 'He comes to ask for her—for la petite 1 Abi but it is strange! And she only a baby the other day.' All quivering with excitement,, Mathilde sought Mrs Baraldine. She whispered volubly in French and gave his card. Mrs Baraldine put asile her work and arose. She had turned deathly white.

'Ask Sir George Durnatone to come iu here, Mathilda,' she said. The old French woman looued at her quickly, and her face fell. All at once she understood that this a groat moment in the life of her miritress. With tho understanding came remembrance. Her exoitement and her pleasure faded, for she knew -nune betterthat when a suitor came to ask the hand of the daughter of the honse sorrow must follow on his coming. 'I had forgotten,' she whispered to herself, 'that 1 should forget. 1 become old and stupid.' She ushered Sir George into ber mistress' presence without a word. Had he taken the trouble to look at her face, he would have seen that this old Freuoh woman had tears in her eyes. George DnrnsLcne's first impression as he entered that charming room and looked at the stately, beautiful woman standing by the fire place, was one that had in ifc a suggestion of reproach. He was swept back at this moment to the days that had stretched before ttoat eventful evening, when he had taken auch pleasure in looking at the pictured face of Dorothy's mother, and had loved go listen to the girl's enthusiastic admiration for that mother. Within trie last twenty four hours Sir George's fueling for Dnrothy'a mother had uudergoneja complete change. '"-,- Though ho had borne himself so coldly, and had taken such a determined attilude wheu listening to Mary LaMOombe's story, he had really beeu terribly sho'oked, and in the hours that had followed had not hidden from himself one single disagreeable aspect of the future; yet he had never swerved ia his determination to marry Dorothy. The fact that the girt was ill, that she had been exposed to euch harsh treatment wheu under his roof, would in itself liuve served to link her more closely with his thoughts, but there was more tbat this. As Mr Delaval had conjectured, the love that George Duruatono gave to this girl was the strongest, the most vital emotion of bis life. Though the position of affairs should have been a hundredfold <

By Efiie Adelaide Rowlands. Author of "An Inherited Feud,'? "Brave Barbara," "A Splendid Heart," " Temptation of Mary Barr," "The Interloper," etc., etc.

worse than It was, he would not relinquish her, and his determination grew the more fixed when he gathered from Selina that Dorothy had but one desire, and that was to leave the Gate House and take farewell of them forever. He had paused one day, and the night before he sent a letter to Doiothy's room; in this letter he entreated her to see him. At first the girl bad wavered, had shrunk fiom granting bis request, but, tortured by all the doubt and midorj that had oppresssed her since the moment when Lady Dunworthy had struck her so cruelly on the face, unable to hide from boraelf the significance of those things which had seemed so natural to her up to now. ill, and drawn romantically toward this man, Dorothy did what he asked. George Durnstone's love, the tenderness which ne lavished upon her, were like a beautiful dream to the girl. She let herself be lulled to rest, aa it were/while he spoke she felt a sense oi' pace while her hands were eR • <'d in bin strong hands. When she bad been alone In her room she bad said to herself that her life henceforward must be a life of self-sacrifice—that for her there could be no obance of happiness such as exited - for other girls; ehe had even imagined, in her overwrought, nervous state, that it might be possible to her to atone for the wrong that had neon done all these years. But all these things went from her when George Durustone knelt at her feet and pleaded that she would give her life into bis keeping, and that she would let him love and care for her always. He would not let her leave him that night till she had promised to be his wife with aa little delay as possible. It was he who had her mother's name. 'I am going to London to-morrow,' he said. 'You will leave .this matter in my hands, dearest? Henceforward you belong to me, and to no one else.' In her nervous excitement Dorothy had scarcely grasped the meaning of what he bad said. Even wnen she was baok in her own room, with Selina hovering tenderly about her, Dorotuy was too worn out to let thought claim her again—too glad to lose the burden of that thought in sleep. Had she been asked to analyze her feelings towards George Durnstnne, she would have been quite unable to desoribe them. He was the first man with whom she had become intimate.

Selina bad raised ber interest when they bad been In the convent together by her leving talk of her brother. Jt is so easy for a sentimental girl to make a hero out of commonplace materials! Then the fact that the moment she oame to the Gate House this great person was metaphorically at hor feet completed the matter. Now the girl was vaguely conscious of an immense relief that some one stronger than herself should come forward at this moment and solve the problem whioh for a abort while had seemed to her as bitter as death—absolutely unendurable. Selina Knew nothing of what bad passed between her brother and Dorothy. She had been waiting for the latter to come up from that long interview, and she dismissed Dorothy's maid and helped the tired young creature to go to rest, forbearing to ask any questions, muoh as she longed to put them. When the morning oarae Selina was up early, as was her custom, and happened to be in the hall when ber brother came down the stairs. As she went to give bim her usual morning kias, Selina notioed that he looked pale and tired, with a stern expression. Sir George bad never been demonstrative, but he had never looked to Selina as he now looked. 'Dorothy is sleeping,' she said to him, half timidly. A strange change had come over the relations between the brother and sister. The old camaraderie was gone. It was the beginning of a new existenoe for Selina, this sensation of being half-nervous in the presence—indeed, half-afraid—-of ber brother. 'Keep her in her room,""said Sir George, authoritatively, 'andgdon't let ber go outside. Amuse her as muoh as you can; 1 shall not be back to dinner—l am going to London.' r * He vouchsafed no further information, but Selina did not require it. She knew why he was aoing to London, and her heart beat a littJe quickly. Another time she would have fluttered about him, doing all sorts of little things, but this morning she let his man attend to him, and only went out on to the steps to see him get into the brougham and drive away. (To be Continued.)