THE LADY IN BLACK.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8440, 11 May 1907, Page 2

THE LADY IN BLACK.

By .PiOREKCF, WAK.3DEN. Author of "A>i J-ti/'mnnw* Fratul, r %i A Terrihlc Family,* "For lore of .lack," "The House on the M<u-*h. >! et'%* etv.

CHAPTEI: !<.[.—Continued. "You wish ; -jpeak to me? To ask rrv some cju- : ; ii;ms, I suppose?" he (Tii.i c-.nirt;:'. i/.■:, as lie leaned against the iiiiintel and bunt his head to listen. "Yes." Then there was a pause. It was rather a delicate matter to accusy this grave, courteous gentleman of a burglarious entry u.to another person's house. Mabin had not felt the full force of this difficulty until now, when she sat, breathing quickly, and wondering how to begin, while MiMr Banks still politely waited. "I saw yon just now in the garden," she burst out at last, feeling conscious that her voice sounded hoarse and harsh after his quiet tones "and I recognised you. And I thought it was better to tell you so, to tell you that I knew it was you who—who " How could she go on? She didn't. She broke down altogether, and sat looking at the gently stirring branches of the trees outside,wishing that she were under the shelter of their cool freshness, instead of goingthrough this fiery ordeal indoors. Then it suddenly became clear to her fiat Mr Banks had been seized with a new idea*. t "I suppose, then," he said, and she was delighted to see that he was at last begnning to feel some of the, embarrassment which she was suffering, "that you are the lady who followed me through the drawing-room of 'TI G Towers' a fortnight ago?" "Yes, yes." "Then I don't know how to apologise to you. I don't know what to say to excuse myself. In fact, there is nothing for it but to confess that ill health had made me a sleepwalker, and that this is not the first time I have been put into very embarrassing situations by this terribly unfortunate habit." Mabin frowned frankly. She was an honest, truthful girl, and this man lost her respect the moment he began ; to tell what she knew to be falsehoods. Her indignation gave her courage. It was in a .much more assured tone that she went on : "I know it is not the first time, because it happened the very night before. But I know also that you were not asleep, because when you saw that the person in the room was not the person you expected to find there, you went away. Besides, 11 saw you when you had got out into the garden," added she quickly, "and you were quite wide-awake. At first I thought you must be a burglar, and I was dreadfully frightened; but when I saw you were not, I was more frightened still. And do you think it is right to come into people's houses like that at night, and frighten them J into fainting fits?" | And Mabin, who had sprung off her chair in her excitement, con- j fronted him with quite an Amazonian air of defiance and reproach. , She felt remorseful, however, almost before she came to the end of , the harangue. For he took her on-' slaught meekly, so humbly that she was disarmed. When she had finished, he began to pace quickly up and down the room. "I.know it's wrong, I know it, I know it," he repeated, as if to himself. "I know I ought not to be here at all. I know I am exposing myself and—and others"—his tone dropped into an indescribable softness on the word —"to dangers, to misery, by my presence. And yet I have not the strength of mind to go." He did not once turn his head or , look at his visitor as he uttered these words; indeed, she thought, by the monotonous, almost inaudible tones in which he spoke, walking hurriedly up and down, with his eyes on the ground, that he did not even remember that he was not alone. And when he had finished speaking he still ?oninued his walk up and down, without so much as a glance in her direction until suddenly, when he had reached the end of the room where she was sitting, he drew himself up and, fixing his eyes upon her, asked abruptly: "Did she know? Did she guess? Did you tell her?" Mabin bad an impulse of amazing astuteness. She had come here to find out why. Mr Banks made burglarious entry into "The Towers." Here was an opportunity of finding out the relations between him and her friend. "Tell whom?" she said, pretending not to understand. "Lady Ma " He checked himself at once, and was silent. "Do you mean Mrs Dale" asked Mabin. "Yes, I mean Mrs Dale," replied he impatiently. "I didn't tell her anything," said Mabin. "I didn't dare. And she thought she. dreamed she saw you the night before; but I know it must hive been you whom she saw." "She saw me!" cried Mr Banks, with a sudden eagerness in his voice, a yearning in his eyes, which kept Mabin dumb. Noticing at once the effect his change of manner had on his listener, he checked himself and turned his head away. Still Mabin remained silent. In truth, she was beginning to feel alarmed by those glimpses into a story of passion and of sorrow which was being flashed before her innocent young eyes. A blush rose in her 'checks; she got up from her chair and made a step toward the door, feeling for the first time what a daring thing she had done in making this visit. "I —I think so. I must suppose SO'," said she quickly. "And that was why she changed her room." A look of intense pain crossed the face of Mr Banks. His biows contracted, hi 3 lips quivered. Mabin, with the righteous indignation of the very young against sins which they cannot understand, felt that every

blow slit- ofci-uek, cruel though it might be, helped to remove a peril from the psitfi of her friei.d. With glowing eiueks and downcast eyes, she added : "Why do you try to see her? If you cannot sec her openly, why do you try to see her at all Especially when only to think she saw you in a dream made her tremble and faint and lock the door." If £he had looked up as she spoke, the words would have died upon her lips. For the agony in his face had become pitiful to see. For a few moments there was dead silence in the room. Although she wanted to go, she felt that she could not leave him like this, and she wanted to know whether her injunctions had had any effect. She .was startled by a hollow laugh, and, looking up, she met the eyes of Mr Banks fixed upon herewith an expression which seemed to make her suddenly conscious how young and ignorant she was and how mad to suppose that she could have any influence upon the conduct of older men and women. "I ought not to have come" she said, Iwith a hot biush in her cheeks, "I am too ignorant and too stupid to do anything but harm when I want to do some good to my friends. But pleaee do not laugh at me; I only spoke to you to try to save Mrs Dale, whom I love, from any more trouble." "Whom you love! Do you love her too?" asked Mr Banks, with the same change to tenderness which she had noticed in his tone once before. "Well, little one, then you have done your friend some good, after uU ; fcr I promise you I will not try to see her again.*" Mabin was filled with compuncj tion. Mr Banks did not talk like a wicked man. She longed to put down his unconventional behaviour merely to eccentricity; but this was hard, very hard to do. At any rate, she had obtained from him a definite promise, and she to get another. "And—please don't think me impertinent—but wouldn't it be better if you went \a way from here? You know thera is always the risk of her seeing you while you live so near, or of finding out something about you. Please don't think me impertinent; but, really, I think, after what I have seen that if she were to meet you suddenly, and know that she was not dreaming, itjwould kill her." Again his face contracted with pain. Mabin looking down, went on: "Remember all she has to suffer. When that old woman—an old lady with a hard face —came to see her, and scolded her— —" Mabin stopped. An exclamation on the part of Mr Banks had made her glance at him; and she was astonished to see, in the hard look of anger which his features had assumed, a likeness, an unmistakeable likeness, to "the cat." "Oh!" cried the girl involuntarily. "Go on with what you Were saying," said Mr Banks sharply. "An old lady came here, scolded her " "And poor Mrs Dale was miserable. She did not want me to stay with her; she said she was too wicked; she was more miserable than I have ever seen any one before. I am so sorry for her—so sorry." She stopped. A strange expression, in which there was a gleam of wistful hope, had come into Mr Banks' face. Mabin put out her hand quickly. "Good-bye," she said. "I think I am glad I came. I'm sure you are not hard-hearted enough to make her any more unhappy than she is." "You will let me come with you—as far as the gate of the garden," he said quite humbly. "You are right to trust me. I love your 'Mrs Dale,' and would not do her any harm. But—it is difficult, very difficult, to know what would be best, happiest, for her." They were in the hall by this time; and Mr Banks," still holding the girl's hand very gently in his, had pushed open the door which led into the garden. Instead of going out at once, he turned to look earnestly in Mabin's young, fair face. "I wish you were a little older," he said at last; "thevi I could tell you the whole story and you could help me to hit upon the right thing to do." "I am nineteen," expostulated Mabin; "and, though he doesn't now it, papa often takes my advice." Mr Banks smiled kindly. "I have no doubt of it," said he. "Nineteen is a great age. But not quite great enough to bear the burden of such a pitiful story. Come!" (To be Continued).