The Ironmaster's Daughter.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8283, 10 November 1906, Page 2

The Ironmaster's Daughter.

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

CHAPTER XVI

MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM. Dick stood irresolute, half relenting, half ashamed, but with Paulines scathing words burning into his very brain. He saw her go, he heard the door close after her, and then turned to face Peter, whose eyes were blazing into his own. , " I heard what you said 'bout the nigger, Mr Tressidy. I heard what she said 'bout you. You are all that, an' a lot more sir. The panther recognizes you as a serpent. She never makes no mistake. She's rasra'now for her an' Miss Pauline's enemy. Now you kin go!" Dick drew himself back, every muscle taunt, the devil leaping into his face; then he turned upon his heel. Peter was feeble; Tressidy had the strength and agility of a gladiator. He knew his own skill and strength, and walked away. Only a coward could resent Peter's wild talk with physical force. He tramped through the woods and back again. The sun was set, and the moon beaming. The air was soft and warm, and a nightingale was singing deliciously. Dick dropped into a rustic seat within view of Pauline's house. How many happy hours they had spent there, and yet—and yet—he had never felt quite satisfied. The little bit of mystery about Pauline irritated him. He hated everything that would not bear the light of day. He did not blame her. Chester Stark had said that Pauliue was innocent of deception, and he knew that 'Chester Stark was a soul of honour. "It was my duty to have an explanation, after what his son had said to me; but I hated to make a disturbance. Oh, Pauline—Pauline, I was a brute to vent my illhumour on yon. I could scourge myself." He rose from the rustic seat and shivered. The panther was making a wailing sound, and the nightingale had become dumb. Dick crept towards the house, and crossed the verandah, almost like a thief. Most of the lights had been extinguished,and there was a curious silence within" He pressed the electric button in the door frame, and waited with a sinking heart. Pauline would not see him.' A servant came and told him that her mistress had retired. He simply nodded and went away aaain. He walked the fields and w : oods until midnight; then went home and to bed, to pass a sleepless night. Early in the morning he w 7 as back at Pauline's house. The front door was open, and he strode into the parlour. He was determined to see her—to show to her Chester Stark's ambiguous letter concerning * herself, and to repeat exactly what Frank Stark had said. He must vindicate himself as far as in his power lay. And at the same time Jbe was resolved to dismiss everything from his mind—to propose an immediate marriage—to prove to Pauline that his love, had grown, and deepened, and strengthened, untill it was as wonderful as her own. All this was revolving in his mind as he paced the length of the room, and his eyes glowed with prospective happiness. Only a little rift in the lute. Only a tiny cloud over the brightness of the sun! He looked up eagerly when the servant returned, and then the light | died out of his face. Peter was behind the woman, and the malevolence in his eyes was unmistakable. " Miss Beitz is to ill to see you, sir." "Then I shall send a doctor," he blurted out angrily. He pushed his way past the servant, past Peter, and went to the foot of the stairs. He called Pauline by name several times; then encountered the malicious face of Peter, and banged out of the house. "There is reason in all things," he muttered, "except a woman. But she will come to her senses during the day. He tramped back to Birchdene, and pretended to enjoy his breakfast, while feeling that it would choke him. Eriys had heard of the annoyances at the works, and sympathized with him. "Pauline and I are going into Birmingham to-day," she' told him in her artless way. "Oh!" He glanced up alertly. "Well, I must be off; the carriage is at the door. I sha'n't be late, Enys," He hesitated in the doorway. Should he say anything to his sister? No,, the storm would blow over. The day was sultry, the air charged with sulpher. The sky seemed to lower over the myriad of furnaces, and chimneys vomiting fire, and smoke and steam. Dick felt that he hated it all. He had called for a searching inquiry into "the leakage of the office secrets, and it was proved beyond doubt that either he or Mr Benson, the head clerk, had been indiscreet. "I will take tho blame," he said at last. "I did make pencil notes, and believed that I had destroyed them. The particulars are in my private safe, to which you and I alone have the combination, Mr Benson. It's annoying—humiliating, and there it must end.

Bv OWEN MASTERSAnther of " Clyda's Love Dream," "Nina's Repentance," "Her Soldier Lover," "The Mystery of Woodcroft," " For Love of Marjorie," etc.

Mr Benson fidgeted about, and Dick observed it. "Don't bother me to-day, there's a good fellow The weather and the stifling atmosphere are upsetting to one who has lived on the sea, and roamed the world so recently." "Yes, sir," Benson said dutifully. He appeared to be worried. "I am feeling it myself. I expect the fact that we've lost the Wellington contract. It was a big thing—thirtyodd thousand pounds." Dick smiled cheerlessly. "We can't have everything, Benson. It's a relief to slow down a bit. I don't know who can compete with us and make a profit." "Tho people next door have secured it." "Lucas & Co.!" The name leaping from Dick's lips viciously. "And they have undersold me !" He sat in silence for a long time, his head bent over the writing-table. At last he moved round and looked out of the window. Benson had tiptoed out of the room. "Yes, it's a relief to slow down a bit with the thermometer at eighty, day and night. But the people next door are becoming active —to active for their health." Dick laughed fiercely. "And they are buying the office secrets —from whom ?" He rose and went into Mr Benson's office. The two lady typewriters glanced at him furtively. The chief clerk was deep in a column of figures—his brow furrowed.