RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8389, 30 March 1907, Page 2

RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL.

By Julia Edwards, Author of "The Little J lidair," "Sudia, tic Besebvd," "Prettiest of All" "Stella Sterling u Laurx Ih'ayton," etc.

A KOMANCE OP THE SAN FRANCISCO UISASTEtI

CHAPTER XXIII. —Continued. "Then it is true," she said mechanically, "What a blow, what a grievous blow! Do you realize what you have done?" she cried. "You have made yourself a social outcast ! Euniceßar thole! t, with her prestige, her millions, her love for you which ■only awaited the asking of her hand, would cut you dead on the sstreet. You have broken my heart, Neil; your waywardness has broken my heart!" ■She caught blindly at the satchels, and his heart smote him. Not because he had obeyed the dictates of his heart and wedded the girl he loved, but because of his mother's mistaken ideas and the soi'row they wer3 causing her. "Mother, mother," he exclaimed, "only to know my dearest Beryl is to loye her! She is so good, so beautiful, so true, that she would win you from your false notions of pride and blood. Besides, her family is as good as our own- " "No more!" interrupted Mrs Preston. "I forbid ycu singing her praises to me. The girl laid her plans well, and won you in spite of us. You have made your choice and must abide by it. But not a penny of your father's fortune shall ever come to you. You were not brought up to be a working man," she added, with curling lip, "and love in a cottage will not turn out as you fondly imagine. When your bride"—-the word came with bitter emphasis — "finds you are penniless, she will not long remain,to share your lot." Neil's spirit quivered under the lash of his mother's tonue. His manhood asserted itself, and he drew his i tall form erect. | ,"I have married the woman Ij love," he answered, "the only woman I ever could love. I was reared a j gentleman; I trust I can still keep j theititle, even though I amlcut off 1 from my patrimony and compelled to work. Honest toil is not degrading." "I will have none of your heroics. Arthur is in front with his automobile, to carry me out of the city. Are you disposed to accompany us?" "I cannot leave until I have found my wife! Will you not tell me where you saw her, where I can find her?" "She called at this house last evening, and asked for news of you." "Before—before I came, mother?" asked Neil hoarsely.

"After you came. You were asleep when I talked with her and sent her away." "Asleep!", echoed Neil blankly, "I was under the same roof with her and—and— Oh, merciful heavens, this is too much! 'Why did you call me!" he demanded. "If you were too heartless, *„vhy did not Arthur arouse me and tell me my darling was here?" "Call .me heartless, what you \ will," answered the mother bitterly. "I am glad to think I have not done the least thing to help on your mad infatuation for this pretty working girl—this penniless toiler who has dared tp come between you and me." "What did you tell her?" he asked, a threat in his voice and eyes. "It cannot be that pride has turned your heart to stone? Surely you did not send her away without one little word of hope?" "She got no word of hope from me, the insolent creature! I told her " p "Mother! You are speaking about ■my wife, and I will not listen to the terms you use, for they are cruel and unjust. You are deliberately wounding me!' Anger rose fiercely into the proud face. "And have you not wounded me, young man?" the mother sharply demanded. "You have made your own bed, and must lie in it. Go! and never let me see your face again!" Those awful words struck him to the soul. "You—you cannot mean that!" he finally whispered. "I mean every word of it! I thank Providence that I have still your brother Morley to lean upon in my declining years. Go with your working-. girl wife; and when your frends turn from you with contempt; and the < doors of the best society are closed in . your face, remember that you have [ only yourself to blame! Leave me! I have suffered enough!" A half hysterical laugh accompanied the words. Neil knew his mother was not herself, yet he did nut linger. Turning slowly, he left the room and the house.

CHAPTER XXIV. "HE IS NOT FALSE TO ME" "''Pure as the snow the summer sun Never at noon hath looked upon— Deep, as is the diamond wave, ' Hidden in the desert cave — Changeless as the greenest leaves Of the wreath the cypress weavesHopeless, often, when most fond— • Without hope or fsar beyond Its own pale fidelity— All this woman's love can be." Not until the two girls reached the walk outside the stately home of Arthur Preston did the emotions which poor Beryl had so bravely held in check while under the eyes of Neil's arrogant mother find vent. Tears brimmed from her eyes and fell over her soft cheek. She staggered, too, as though her strength had gone suddenly from her. "Ob, my darling" breathed the Mexicana tenderly, i "only to think that tHere could be such people in the world! That woman acted," added Tonita fiercely, "as though we were not good enough for her to wipe her shoes on. I hate her!" and she turned and shook her clenched brown Jiand toward the house. „ The flickering flames from the

portable stoves beat luridly about Tonita, bringing out her graceful, defiant form like a clear-cut cameo against the gloom of ihe street. "Hush, dearest, hush!" murmured Beryl brokenly. "Let us not forget chat siie is my darling Neil's mother." "For all that, cried Tonita, "she is a heartless wretch! I shall hate her always. Then think what she said about the Senor Preston'!' "That was false!" said Beryl, with sweet confidence. "Neil would never forsake me; he would never leave me alone in this great desolated city. He is searching for me, and will continue to do so until we find each other and come into our happiness." Beryl's grief and sadness fled, for her trust in her lover brought an all pervading calm to her troubled breast.

"Her look composed, and steady eye, Bespoke a matchless constancy." Suddenly, with a muttered ecxlamation of alarm, Beryl seized Tonita's hand and drevv her down in the deep shadow of the enclosing wall. "What is it?" asked the surprised Mexicana. "What caused you " Beryl placed her little hand over her friend's lips, and pointed. A man was coming along the sidewalk, walking hurriedly among the huddled refugees. He passed so close to the girls that they could have reached out and touched him. The light from the stoves shone in his face, and Beryl and Tonita could see him turn from the walk and climb the broad steps to the door of the Preston mansion. "Trenwyck!" Beryl quiveringly gasped in Tonita's ear. "It is the wicked lawyer Irrna Lee told me about —Berdyne's confederate—the man who lured me into the deserted house where we Gorsline. Oh, if he had seen us! Come quickly, Tonita; let us fly from here and escape him." Trembling with terror, but with strength inspired by her very fears, Beryl arose and started along the walk. Tonita, calmer and the more collected, supported her as they hurried. At almost every corner they turned. ( The roar of the flames, the frightful pall of smoke in the sky, the desultory booming of distant dynamite, all conspired to ue nerve poor Beryl, now that she had caught a glimpse of the lawyer's evil face. "Courage, querida," said Tonita, reassuringly. "You must stop and re3t, for you can hardly drag youself along."

"But we are followed. That wretched lawyer is behind us." "I do not think so, dearest." "They told him at Arthur Preston's that we had been there?" went on Beryl wildly; "they have put him on our track, knowing he is an agent jof fterdyne's. They would do anything, anything to have harm happen tome. Ah, was ever a poor girl so persecuted?" But Beryl's fictitious strength was waning fast. She staggered and Tonita;drew her tenderly to the side of some steps by which they were passing. While they crouched there, the Mexicana clasping her friend to her breast, TrenwyHk came hurrying along, staring straight ahead. In , a few moments he vanished. Beryl could not see him, as her eyes were hidden, but she heard the quick, eager step. "Is it —is it Trenwyck?" she murmured. "No, querida," whispered Tonita, speaking deliberately, in order to spare her friend. "You have nothing more to fear now. ' Your Tonita would not let any harm come to you." They rested a little while longer; then, they got -up and the Mexicana, guiding her friend, started in a direction opposite that taken by the lawyer. Tonita herself was very weary, and a return to Russian Hill was out of the question. They must find some nearer refuge for the night. Presently they came upun an open space, gleaming with white tents, and they could see soldiers patrolling back and forth. "Halt!" cried a stern voice, as ■ the two girls approaced the encampment. The poor wanderers halted, and the soldier who had challenged them came close and stared into their faces. The flickering, sullen light from the fire banners that waved over the city fell on the two fair faces, and the soldier marvelled at their beauty. "Sir," appealed Beryl, recalling the kindness of the other soldier she had met, and feeling that she and Tonita were near one who would befriend them, "we are very tired,Jand have no place where we can stay for the night. Our friends are at Rus-» sian Hill, but we do not feel able to f walk so far." I (To be Continued). E