THE LADY IN BLACK.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8438, 9 May 1907, Page 2

THE LADY IN BLACK.

By FLORENCE WARDEN. Author of "An Infamous Fraud," "A Terrible Family,* "For Love of Jack," "The House on the Marsh," etc., etc.

CHAPTER X.—Continued. Evidently loss of memory was no protect on wjth this person. Mabin blushed, and tried another sort of answer. "Yes, I remember. What funny things children say!" "Was it funny?" "Why, yes; I can'tj help laughing at the idea now!" And Mabin began to la"gh hystsrically, unnaturally, but withal so prettily, with so much of maidenly confusion, and subdued happiness mingling with her amusement, that Rudolph threw his arm around her in the midst of her mirth, and cut it short by snatching a kiss. "Oh!" i The monosyllable was meant to express astonishment and indignation, but it was a poor little protest, after all, and one of which Rudolph did not feel bound to take much notice. ''Are you angry?" said he, not withdrawing his arm. "Are you very angry Mabin?' Don't you think you will ever be able to forgive me?" "I am angry, certainly," answered she, trying to release her&elf. "I hope you are going to apologise forgetting that I am not nine now." . ' "How old are you, Mabin?" "Nineteen." "Quite old enough to take up the promises you made ten years ago. Quite old enough to marry me." "Rudolph, what nonsense I',' "Oh, is it nonsense? If you think I am going to allow my feelings to be trifled with by a chit of a girl who used to go halves with me in confectionery, you?re very much mistaken! Now, then, are you willing to ratify your promise, or am I to bring an action for breach of promise?" But Mabin, trembling with excitement and happiness so great as to be bewildering, felt dimly that there was too much levity about this abrupt settlement of the affairs of two lifetimes. This sudden proposal did, not accord with her serious disposition, with her sense of the fitness of things. She looked at him with eyas pathetically full of something like terror. "Rudolph!" she whispered, in a voice which was unsteady with strorg emotion, "how can you talk like this? How can you? Don't you know that it hurts?"

"Hurts, little one? What do you mean by that?" His tone was tender enough to satisfy the most exacting damsel, but Mabin was struck with fresh terror on remarking that, instead of releasing her, he tightened the grasp in which he held her. "Why, I mean-I mean—that you are in play, that it is amusement, fun, to you; while to me "

And then she saw in his eyes SDmething new, something of the earnestness, the seriousness, which she had longed for, but which she had not before detected in the lighthearted sailor.

"While to you Why, little one, do you think it is anything to you, this promise that I am to have you to guard and keep near my heart for our lives, more than it is to me? Do you think one must meet one's happiness with a sour face, Mabin, and ask a girl to love you from the other side of a stone wall. Oh, ray little sweetheart, with the shy eyes and the proud heart, you have a great deal to learn; and the very first thing is to trust me, and not to think my love of Jno account because I can woo you with a light heart."

Every word seemed to echo in the young girl's breast. She was taken off her feet, lifted high into an enchanted region where words were music, and a touch of the fingers ecstasy, and she hardly dared to speak, to move, to draw breath, lest the spell should be broken, and she should wake up to commonplace life again. She listened, hardly speaking, to her lover as he told her how she had always remained in his irind as the childish figure that foreshadowed his womanly ideal; how her cold reserve had piqued him, made him study her more; and finally how quickly these feelings had given place to warmer ones when he and she became friends once more. They did not know how the time went. The sun rose high, the shadows shifted gradually, the dew dried on the long grass. At last a bell, ringing loudly in the garden behind the plantation, startled Mabin and made her spring up. "That's for luncheon; it must be for luncheon!" she cried, in blushing confusion. "I'd forgotten—forgotten everything!" Rudolph laughed gently, and picked up her bag and her work. "I won't go in," said he. "But I'll go through the plantation with you to carry these." Across Mabin's face there came cloud. "You must see Mrs Dale," she said. "She will want to see you; and yet " "And yet what?" "I'm jealous!" "Are you? For shame, for shame! Can't you trust me?" "I will say yes, of course; but " "But you mean no. Well, I can promise not to break your heart." And he laughed at her and teased her, and told her that Mrs Dale was too well off to trouble her head about a poor lieutenant. But, Mabin was only half-com-forted; she remembered how well they had got on together On that memorable evening when a misunderstanding bad caused her to sulk, and she was too diffident to believe that her own charms could compete with brilliant Mrs Dale's.

As soon as they came out of the plantation, and within sight of the house, they saw across the lawn the young housemaid, Annie, shading her eyes with her hand, as if watch-

ing for someone. Mabin, thinking the girl was locking out for her, sprang away from Rudolph, calling out a last "good-bye" as she hurried over the lawn. "Tell Mrs Dale that I am coming to call upon her this afternoon, to ask her to give me some tea. And please remind her that she promised me peaches next time I came," called out Rudnlnh after her as she ran. Mabin merely waved her hand to imply that she neard, and ran on towards the house. Annie, instead of retreating into the hall at the approach of the young lady, stepped out into the garden. And when Rudolph, after skirting the plantation, reached the gravelled space on his way to the gate, he found the young housemaid holding it open for him. He saw, before he came up, by the girl's look and manner, that she had something to say tu him.

"I beg your pardon, sir," she said in a low voice, as soon as he was near enough to her, "but I hope you won't mind me taking the liberty of speaking to you." The girl was a bright-looking young person, with intelligent eyes and an open, pleasant face. "Well, what is the portentoub secret?" asked Rudolph, smiling, much amused by her assumed airs of mystery and importance. "Well/ sir, it is a secret," she retorted, rather nettled by his amusement. "It's a warning I have to give you! ' "A warning! Come, this begins to be interesting." "It isn't a joke at all, sir," said the housemaid, half-offended, yet with increasing earnestness. "I saw you coming over the field this morning, sir, when I was out speaking to Ihe gardener about the salad. And I thought you were most likely coming hi re, sir, and I've been on the lookout ior you eve.' since." "Much obli^id-to you, I'm sure. But have you been told to warn me off the premises?" \

JjThe girl drew herself up. "Well, I can tell you, sir, that you'd better not come about the place more than you can help, for if you do there's some one will find it out and maybe do you a mischief. Hoping you'll excuse the liberty, sir, but I know something nobody else does, and I shouldn't like you to come to any harm, sir." And leaving Rudolph in a statejof mingled incredulity, amusement and surprise, the girl shut the gate, through which he had by this time passed, ran back quickly, and disappeared through the back door into the house. It was with a shock that Mabin remembered, when she met Mrs Dale, that in the excitement of her own happiness she had neglected to tell Rudolph the story of her midnight adventure. She reproached herself with thinking of no one but herself, and was as miserable over her omission as she had been happy while with har lover. As it was in the din-ing-room that she met Mrs Dale, the presence of the parlormaid prevented her from confiding to her friend's ear the events of the morning. She said with a hot blush that she had met Rudolph, and gave his message; but although Mrs Dale received the intelligence with an arch smile, she did not guess how extremely interesting the interview had proved.

And as after luncheon Mrs Dale sent her into Seagate for peaches, while she wrote some letters, Mabin kept the secret of her engagement, saving it up until Rudolph should himself break the news.

The young girl felt an odd shynesa about confessing her happiness. She was quite glad of the excuse circumstances afforded of keeping it all to herself for a few hours longer. I c was a joy so far above all other joys that it seemed to her its bloom would not bear the rough touch of arch words and looks which would certainly,follow the announcement of it. Hugging her happiness to her heart, she went quickly to Seagate and back, not heeding the scorching heat of the sun, or the glare of the chalky roads, or the dust made by the vehicles which passed her on the way. And when she, reached "The Towers" again, finding that Mrs Dale had not yet come downstairs, she put on her hat and went back to the seat where Rudolph had sat with her that morning, to live over again the golden time they had spent there together. (To be Continued.)