THE LADY IN BLACK.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8439, 10 May 1907, Page 2

THE LADY IN BLACK.

CHAPTER X.—Continued. Bit she could not free her mind from the self-reproach she felt at having fen gotten, in the pleasure of the meeting \vhh Kiu'.olph, the affairs of her friend. There was just this excuse for her, that it was now a whole fortnight since the strange night adventure had happened, and during all that time nothing had occurred at "The Towers" to recall the visit of the intruder whom Mabin had chased out of the house. After that strange confidence of Mrs Dale's following the incident of the picture, no word more had been exchanged by the two ladies on the subject. It was this new but unavoidable reserve between them which ha 1 made Mabin so shy of mentioning her new happiness. If Mrs Dale had, as she averred, never been in love herself, what sympathy could she be expected to have for Mabin? With these thoughts in her mind, Mabin had at last got up from the seat, and sauntered along the narrow path through the plantation in the direction of her father's house. Crossing the lane which separated the grounds of tho two houses, she found herself, without thinking how she came there, on the part which ran along outside the wall at the bottom of her father's gardei. She had gone about ten yards ' when she heard a slight noise on the inner side of the wall. She stopped. There flashed, quickly into her mind the old forgotten question: Was her father's tenant the man who had got into ■"The Towers" at night a fortnight ago? Coming noiselessly close to the wall, she reached the top of it by ajfsudden spring, and saw, between the bushes of the border, the bent figure of a gentleman, sauntering along slowly with the aid of a stick. ' The cry she uttered made him look up. And tiiG face she saw was the face of the picture in the shut-up room, the face of the man she had pursued through the house, whose thin, worn features she had seen a fortnight ago in the pale light of the morning.

CHAPTER XL AN INTERVIEW WITH MR BANKS. Mabin had only just time to recognize the face of the man who had got into "The Towers" at night as Mr Banks, her father's tenant, when he turned abruptly and hurried away toward the house. Mabin's first thought was to get m over the wall, a proceeding to which it must be admitted, she was not unaccustomed, and pursue him, as she had done upon a recent and well-re-membered occasion. But she felt ■afnatural shyness about such a bold course, and decided that she would proceed in a more orthodox fashion by going round to the front door and * asking for him. It was not without fear that she would be unsuccessful that she made her way, slowly and with the slight limp which still remained from her bicycle accident, along the lane to the front of the house. This was the first time she had been inside her father's gates since the morning the family went away, and .it struck her with 'a sense of strangeness that she had lived a great deal faster than over before since that memorable day. Mrs Dale's mysterious story; the visit of the old lady with the cruel tongue; the midnight intrusion of Mr Banks; last, and chief of all, Rudolph's confession of love — these things had opened a wide abys3 between the child Mabin and the woman. She felt that she was not the shy girl who had had a nervous dread of leaving homo mingling with the thoughts of coming pleasure. And she told herself that when the family came back they would find, not the angular girl they had left, but a woman, a full-fledged woman. Perhaps she congratulated herself prematurely upon the enormous advance she had made; at any rate, when she rang the bell, she, found her heart beating very fast and a curious feeling rising in her throat, which threatened to affect the steadiness of her voice. It was Langford who opened the door. The old servant had not seen ' Mabin since the day she had left the house, and her face broke out into smiles as she greeted her. "Bless me, Miss Mabin, I never thought of its being you! But lam glad to see you. And how have you been getting on? And have you heard from Mrs Rose lately?" "I'm getting on splendidly, and I heard from mama two days ago. Ethel's got the mumps, but the rest are all right. I'll talk to you another time. Come round and see me some evening. Can't away? I'm in a hurry, now; I want to see Mr Banks.'' Langford shook her head emphatically. "It's no use wanting that, Miss Mabin. Mr Banks never sees anybody, not even his lawyer, if he can avoid it. He's a character, he is. Is it a message you've got for him from Mr Rose?" "Oh, no. It's something very important, much more important than that. And I must see him; I tell you I must! And if you won't help me, I shall go to work in a way of my own, and give the poor man a fright." "Oh, no, Miss Mabin, you won't do that, how delicate the poor gentleman is; more than once since he's been here he has given me a fright, and made me think he was going to die. And he's so peculiar he won't let one send for a doctor, not if he's ever so bad, he won't. I'm sure one morning a fortnight ago, when I found him

By FLORENCE WARDEN. Author of "An Infamous Framl," "A Terrible Familf/ f " "For Love of Jack,'' "The House on the Marsh," etc., etc.

lying on the floor in the hall, with one back garden door open, I thought he was dead, that I did. But when I'd brought him to—for he'd fainted, just like a woman —he wouldn't hear of my getting any one to con.e and see him " "Ah!" exclaimed Mabin. "Was that en a Tuesday night—l mean Wednesday morning?" "Yes, S3 it was." Mabin smiled. "Well, I know the reason of that attack. And perhaps I'll tell you some day, if you'll manage to let me see him now. And first tell me what you think of him. Is he mad, do you think, or what? You remember, when he first came, you thought he was." Langford shook her head dubiously. "Well, really, Miss Mabin, I can't rightly tell you what I do think about him. Sometimes I really think he's off his head altogether; he marches up and down the drawingroom- that's the room he has taken to himself—by the hour together, going faster and faster till I listen outside the door, wondering if anything is going to happen, and whether he's going to break out like and do himself a mischief. But if I make an excuse to go in, though his eyes are wide and glaring, so that at the first look he frightens one, yet he always speaks to me quite gently, and says he doesn't want anything. Of course, I pretend not to notice anything, and I think he likes the way I take him. For, though he's always civil-spoken to every one, he doesn't let the two girls come near him, if he can prevent it. If they come up from the kitchen, or out of a room when he's by, he just turns his back and waits till they've gone past." Mabin listened with deep interest, and without interrupting by a question. But wht.i paused for breath, the young girl asked suddenly: "Does he receive any letters? ■ It isn't just curiosity that makes me ask, I needn't tell you." "No, Miss Mabin. He doesn't have any letters sent here, except under cover from his lawyer. They come in big envelopes, with the address stamped on the back, so I know. It locks as if he was in hiding, doesn't it?" she asked in a discreet whisper. Mabin thought that it did, and the fact added to the fascination of the mystery. "You don't think he's a detective, do you?" she whispered close to Longford's ear. "No, I'm quite sure he isn't. Detectives aren't gentlemen, and Mr Banks is a gentleman, if ever there was one." "It's very strange," murmured Mabin vaguely, pondering on the fresh facts. "You may well say that, Miss Mabin. I don't know what to think myself. Some days he'll sit all day long with his head in his hands scarcely without moving. Or he'll sit poring over what looks like old letters and bits of things that I think must have been a woman's, somehow. But there, I feel just like a sneak telling these things even to you; for it's only by chance that I know anything about them myself, and for certain Mr Banks didn't think I should chatter about what I saw." "Ah, well, I know more than you do, as it is," said Mabin softly. The words were still on her lips when a door opened behind them somewhere in the dark, cool hall, and Mabin started guiltily. She and Langford were standing just within the front doorway, out of hearing of any one in the house. But she forgot that she could not be heard, and felt confused and shy when a man's voice, very low, very gentle, said: "Langford, is that Miss Rose?" "Yes, sir," said Langford, as Mabin's eyes at last saw which door it was that was open, and the servant passed her toward the drawing-room. "I will see her, if she wants to speak to me," were his next, most unexpected words. Mabin entered the drawing-room, and found herself face to face with the mysterious Mr Banks. He was standing in the middle of the long room, and as the young lady carr.c in he held out his hand to her and offered her a seat. His hand was cold, his face looked more worn, more gray than ever, and as he moved he tottered, like a man recovering from an illness, or on tho verge of one. But Mabin thought; as she looked at him, that her fancy that ho must be insane was a mistaken one. It seemed to her now that there was the imprint of a great grief, an ever-present burden of melancholy , upon the grave stranger, but that his straightforward, clear eyes were the sanest she had ever seen. (To be Continued.)