The Ironmaster's Daughter.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8277, 2 November 1906, Page 2

The Ironmaster's Daughter.

Bv OWEN MASTERS. Author of "Clythi's Love Dream," "Nina's .Repentance," "Her Soldier Lover,'' "The Mystery of Woodcrojt," "For Love ofMarjorie," etc.

["The InosMASTEit's Daughteu " was commenced on October 17th.]

OHAPTBK Xll. MISS GRAVEN. Summer was upon the land, odorous winds, singing bird?, blue and sunny skies. Jone waß half way through, and Tresaidy's mammoth-works were in fall swing, better manufactures were turned out in the new workß than elsewhere, and better wages uaid Thither the cream of the mechanics bad been attracted, and every morning a thousand peon e trooped through the great portals and into the busiest hive in the Midlands. There was no room for loafers; there was no period) or test while dilapidated machinery waa being repaired. The lazy and easy-going among the workmen did not like it. They called it slavedriving, and gradually the incompetent were weeded out. This caused a great deal of discontent iu she immediate neighbourhood of the new works, and when it was rumoured that the output was equal to that of three thousand men compared With otnoi factories, the modern machinery and electric power were condemned in no unmistakable terms. It really meant throwing two thousand men out of employment. So said the windy demagogues. Jane was half-way over, and Dick Tressidy was expecting visitors. Chester Stark and his son Frank bud decided to spend their vacation in England, and were escorting Pauline to her new home. Dick had rented a picturesque and »eolnded place within a mile of Birobdene for Miss Keitz. It was surrounded by forty acres of woodland, and a ■paoious cage had beeu built for Sultanß, under the supervision of « late attendant from the Loudon Zoologioal Gardens. The bouse was tastefully furnished, the aplection and arrangement having been left to Enya Tressidy. •1 think that 1 have done everything that can be expected of me,' Dick said to bis sister, and 1 want our American guests to enjoy the hospitality Ihoy extended to me ' He went to business that morning feekg very self satisfied. Ho was not afraid for the Americana to see the results of his labours. He believed that he had beaten them at their own game, by improving upon the beat that they had doDe. His thanks were due to them all the same. Pauline's money was invested well, and he calculated to get the whole of the capital back in four or flv« years. He whs deep in thenght daring the drive to Smothwiok. Within twenty four hours he would see Pauline again, and he was rather ' torry, that Chester Stark and Prank would be there to witness their maetlng. A little tenderness for Pauline bad crept into bis heart. His desk was half filled with her cheerful and loving letters. And how much he owed to her! His father's life and honour, Biid the power that he himself wielded in the manufacturing world. To her he owed the penalty that he was exacting from traitors. «I am sure that I shall learn to appreciate her—tc love her in time," he thought. 'One cannot baeternallv in *;he auushine without becoming warm. 1 wonder if it would be wise of me to persuade Pauline to marry me soon? 1 will -I *ill.' His face flushed, and his eyes became luminous. 'I cannot do too much for her; her love and faith are beyond all understanding.' Arriving at the works, he passed through the various offices with « nod and a friendly smile. His real nature was reasserting itself. He had almobt forgotten his oath of revenge. He had been successful phenomenally successful—and could afford to smile at tho baby efforts of the people he bated and eespieed. He knew that part of the old wurks were idle—that they were doomed. In the natural course of things the new would absorb them, and the traitors wou(d drift Into oblivion. RfcHia letters lay on the table, direotly in front of his easy obnir, and the managing clerk waited for instructions. 'I am going away for a day or two, Beneon,', Dick remarked at, last, 'and i wish to dictate replies to these foreign letters. We shall jn«t catch tha outgoing mail.' •Yes, sir,' said Benson. He was a young man, smart, alert, 'Shall I take it down or send in one of the typewriters?' 'The typewriter. You have plenty to do, and it h better to make them responsible for their own errors.' Betincn stepped to tho door, then turned and added: ■1 have put ull the girls in charge of Mies Craven, sir. She is particularly clever, and, I may aay—culture!' Dick was not interested, but he uoddfid. He was reading the foroign letters again. 'This is Miss Craven, sir,' said the voice of Benson. You have not seen her before.' 'Sit Hown, Misn Craven,' Dick said, without looking round. 'Take in shorthand at my dictation, and transoilo on the machine. I must see these letters in the mail.' 'Yes, sir.' The girl's voice was clear—soft—sweet. Diok giancod up, and saw a bead bent over a note-hook~a regal head, crop-ned with bright, brown hair. The June sunlight was playing hide-and-seek among tho glinting curls. He saw, too, that the figure was strong and well setup, and he •waited to see the face. While ho was dictating, ho thought that he had never seen prettier hands. He watched the white lingers flying rlexteroasly over the

paper, and then be paused hoping that she would look np. Uo was disappointed, aud continued,: '.Letter number two—Grayson and Co., Canada.' Itie second and third were finished, and Dick requested Miss Craven to read them aloud. Miss Craven obeyed, and he caught a glimpse of the most perfeot face he had ever beheld. The eyes were large, and blue and soft as pansies; the obeeks delicately rounded, and Diok frowned. She was altogether too pretty for a typewriter. He had rend jokes about them, but never believed tbem. 'Type the letters, Mlea Graven, Rnd bring them for ine to sign.' The girl quitted the office, and he looked after her, tall, graceful lissom, Diok refleoted. 'She will upset the office. A doz on young fellows with a girl like that in their midst. Absuid! Poetry will be indited by the yard. I shall lose b thousand a year.' He laughed at bis own threadbare conceit. Poetry and calf-love a 1 ways went together. There was a lap ou the door, and MiBS Craven reappeared. She handed the letters to her employer, aud when he had approved of them silently left the room. (To be Continued 1 )