The Ironmaster's Daughter.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8278, 3 November 1906, Page 2

The Ironmaster's Daughter.

Bv OWEM MASTERS. Author of "Clyda's Love Dream," "Nina's Repentance," "Her Soldier Lover," "The Mystery of Jfoodcroft," " For Love of' Marjorie," etc.

J ["The Ironmaster's Daughter" was commenced on October 17th.]

CHAPTER XII. Continue}. *1 must speak to Benson about the girl. The fellow is a fool—in some things.' He signed the letters, aad touohed the bell that oommunioated with the managing cierk'e offioe. •Close the door, Benson,' he said. 'Er—ty the way—who is this Miss Craven? She appears to be far above the ordinary lady typewriter.' Benson blushed to the roots of his hair. •She is indeed, sir. She is a native of Coventry, audliaa quite a history. She belongs to a very old family, and has seen better days. I really am of the opinion, sir,' he sank his voice to a whisper, 'that there is sc'me romance attached to her—at leaet, tt.a>, is what I gather. Her guardians want nor to marry a man she does not love, and she prefers earning her own livelihood.' Benson was waxing eloquent, and caressed his moustaohe. 'She speaks and writes French and German fluently, and will be of great aesistance at times.' 'Yes,' his master remarked dub , iously. T hope you do not disapprove, SW Ml '1 do disapprove, Benson. Mies Craven is altogether too beautiful, too refined, too ladylike, tor office work. One hesitates to give orders to a Venus, and shall have ina love to her—or something!' c oh, sir!' . , , . Mr Benson blushed, and looked . shy. •And all the other clerks.' •Not in my presence,' Mr Benson said fiercely. 'Besides, Miss Craven is not a lady of thut sort. She never looks at them. And her re fereoces ate excellent.' Dick was silent for n minute. •All right, Benson, but if there is a falling off in ihe office work, 1 shall hold yoa responsible. Un, here are the foreign letters. I must admit that they are beautifully done. My own faulty grammer is corrector?. See that they are mailed before two o'clock. I am going now, as 1 have some outside business to ntteud to. and 1 shall not be beru io morrow. 1 think every thing is in onier?' •Yes, sir. Every department is full.'' . 'I want things to be spick, and span. Some American friends—-ironmaeteis-are to be my guests lor awhile, acd they must see how «e doit in Old England 1 Pass it on to the mangers,' he added joGualr. ly. When Benson was gone, he laughed aloud. •The ass is in love with Miss Craven already! What fools men, will make of themselve over a woman. Jr is little short of a calamity to get one like that in an office.' He rose, and opened his door. Bliss Craven was in the next office. He looked straight at her, and she met his gazo accidentally, her own lovely blue eyes instantly dropped in confusion. CHAPTEU XIII. PAULINE IS HAPPY. If anyone blesses wireless telegraphy, it must be the man or woman who has to meet an incoming ship. Diok Treesidy paid a silent but eloquent tribute to Mar coni, when he sighted the big liner within five minutes of his anivial at the Liverpool aook. And now his pulses quickened; Pauline Rei f .z was on board—the woman who was to be his wife! Hetried to picture her as he had last seen her— tearful-eyed, melting with tenderness. He reunited the sweot voice, vibrant with love and grief. A weird sort of laugh came from behind, and, turning, be saw a ta!l old man standing there. His hair aud b9Hrd were white, bis visage wrinkled, but the eyes wore full of fire. 'Look at them—look at them!' he said, waving a long arm, 'all waiting for their ships to como home—the ship that never comes. What do you expect, young sir! A pretty wife—a fortuno! He, he!' he cackled. 'Sim won't come—or It will be a painted d6vil. I have been watting for fifty vears—fifty— Ufty.' An nEcial grabbad him by the shoulder. •Now you—clear out. How did the old fool pass the barrier?' 'She won't come,' cried the struggling man. 'A painted devil. If you dou't believe it, strntch her skin. Do, he!' The official frowned, and with no Renlla forcfl propelled the old man through, tho crowd. When he came bacu, bo was rod in tli- facr, and muttering ugly words. '[ wish they would look up old Rip Van Winkle. He is dotty, and dotty people are inhuman. He is aiwayH prophesying evil. Tho last licue ho got i*d here, a man was drowned. I shouldn't wonder if there isu't trouble to-day !' Majnaicnlly tho liner glided laudW!ird over the sunlit river. Her decks were crowded with gaily dressed woman—with men in summer suite, Bnd broad brimmed hats with children like spots of vivid colour. Nearer—nearer; then tho hoarse cries of tb« offioiuls; the hurry, bustle, and rush with wnich travellers are familiar, and Dick found , h'lmVeif gripping Chester Stark by the hand. 'Where is Pauline?' Dick said. 'Not far behind. Frank is looking after ber. She was a bit timid at the last about meeting you. Treat her gently, toy." Chester Stark'd eyes were humid. 'And whe will

leave you together while we hunt up the bagKuge. We have got tons of it. You know what we Americans are.' They withdrew from the crowd, and waited. 'Here they come,' said Chester Stark. 'How long till the bout train leaves?' 'An hour,* Dick answered. 'Ob, plenty of time. /md bow is your father?' 'Much the same. Fairly good health, hut helpless. Some days sensible enough—then fall of funnies.'' 'Dink! Dick Ob, Diok!' Pauline was standing before him, trembling, her eager eyes searching ever line of his face. Beside her was FranK Stark, his upper lip curved into h am 11 a. 'flow do, Tresaidy?' he said easily, and shook Dink by the hand. 'You're looking ton .yiiuf. oider. Cares of business, eh?' 'Now Frank, the servants and the baggage, his father interrupted. 'We have barely an four, and, if the customs offlners are anything like ours at home, we are in for a hot time. You will know whore to And us,' he nodded to Dick. 'Take good care of Pauline.' And, now that the two were practically alone, Diok kissed the girl tenderly. Who was to notice, or to bo interested in a lover's meeting, where everybody else was greeting a friend? *Fou are glad that I have come Dick? ltseens bo long since we parted in New York. ; Tell me that you are glßd.* Her voice quavered, and one clung to hiH arm. Her eyes were beseeohing—pitiful. 'Of course, lam glad, Pauline.' He pressed tbo nand that rested en bis arm, and made a determined plungr. 'So glad that I want you to marry me soon—very soou.' 'And you do really love me a little?' (To be Continued*) 5 ,^?,, ~™!T!l!!l." _-_. ■TUT'.