Hugh Gretton's Secret.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8469, 21 June 1907, Page 2

Hugh Gretton's Secret.

By EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS. Author &f "Selina's- Love' Story," "4 Splendid Heart," "Brave Barbara," "The Temptation of Mary liar," "Ihe Interloper," etc., etc.

CHAPTER IV.—Continued. He was a little irritated with himself for thinking so much about t?he girl; yet the thought of her came, and would not be vanquished except, perhaps, when he dwelt upon Mr Gretton's illness, and on the serious aspect of the case described to him by the ship's doctor. He went frequently to sit with his friend, and was not merely saddened but amazed to see how weak Hugh Gretton had become in two days' time. John Bynge was a very welcome visitor to Mr Gretton's cabin. Ho was so cheery and so healthy to look .upon, and withal so gentle and sympathetic, that he did the invalid good. There was no discussion between the two men as to the cause of Mr . Gretton's illness, but oil the* third day of the voyage, when Bynge's tall figure was admitted into the stateroom, Mr Gretton spoke about it for the first timers "I really ought to apologize to you, Bynge, for having given you such a start the other day," he said weakly, when some few words on other subjects 1 had passed between them. "You , did give me a start, it is true," Bynge answered, "but there is nothing to apologize about. Nope of us can help being ill, you know." Mr Gretton passed one thin hand over his brow. He looked shockingly ill, worn, and white. There was something very pathetic and sweet, too, to John Bynge in the expression ■ ui the dark-gray eyes and pale lips. He felt almost glad that Millicent Gretton was too ill to see her father as he was now. He knew the girl's attachment to her only parent was very great. "I cannot for the life of meremember what it was that caused me to make such a precious idiot of myself," the sick man said, with a faint smile, a 1 little later. His brows were knit as he'spokej. as though he were trying to dive into the recesses of his memory. "I suppose you have experienced •attacks like this before?" Sir John suggested. Gret'ton simply nodded affirmatively. "Ah!" he said sadly, when he ,ppoke, "I have known I' was in a pretty bad state for some time past, Bynge, but I have hid it, for many .reasons. For Millie's sake, to begin with, and then for my own!" He paused a moment after this, and closed ii is eyes.' >■■■■■ ' Bynge felt his heart thrill sadly as he looked at his friend and recalled the doctor's words spoken to him -only that morning, in which Gretton's death was prophesied at no late date. r "1 am an obstinate old rtan, as you lcnow pretty well by this time," Hugh Gretton said, with his faint smile, when he lifted his eyes and began speaking again. "I was determined to be stopped by no croaking, and, though this illness was foretold me, I was resolved to push on to England. Death, if it must come, as better to come/in the old land than anywhere elsd. I have been homesick these many years past, Bynge; •and yet I have waited till was a •doomed man to turn back to this home4-^~-" His voice sank away into exhaustion, and when his eyes looked up again Byngd bent forward. "Forgive me, Gretton," he said, igently, "but were you not foolish to choose so long and arduous a route to return to England? Surely it would have been fdr better for you to have put y6urself bh ;' btiaid one of the bi£ steamers at' Melbourne and have sailed direct to London? The journey over the Western Plains must have been terribly,trfomg to you." "It was," Hugh Gretton conceded; then he added feebly, "But I wanted • to do it to please Millie;, she had a wish to go to England by the longest route. To have contradicted her -would have been to tell her the truth, which you know I want to keep from her even now as long as I can." John Bynge was -i silent after this speech, and the sick man thoroughly translated the meaning of that .silence. "You think this will be impossible' ■eh, Bynge?" he dsked, gently, and quite calmly. The young man stretched out h;s (hand involuntarily. " think," he' said, very slowlyj "1 know enough of Miss Gretton's , nature to be sure that, however much sorrow the fact would give her, she would far rather know the truth ofyour condition, Gretton." The older man merely nodded again. He let his hand rest in John 'Bynge's clasp a jfmoment or so; there was something of comfort, almost of health, to.him in his contactj with the young'man's strength. They did not speak for somej little time, and it was Mr Gretton who broke the silence. "This changes everything," he .said, half wistully; "it makes the future difficult.*' < "If I can serve you, sir, you have •only to command me," John Bynge said, almost impulsively. "I beg you will let me really be your friend." Hugh Gretton pressed the hand he held before releasing his hold. *"I have been thinking much, Bynge, since I have lain here. I feel somehow as if J had committed a great wrong in bringing Millie away from Australia. I know the London world; it is a hard—a cruel world, Bynge, and Millie is so much , -of a child. lam troubled." John Bynge answered this'promptly 1 enough. ' "I do not think you need be troubled about this," he said. "London is never cruel to anyone situated as Miys Gretton is. I hope you will allow my mother and siserts to rank •themselves among her friends. I I have often told her, I am sure they will like her and she them."

Mr Gretton's face cleared. "Yes, yes." he said warmly, "such women as your mother and sisters will be the true friends for a girl like Millie. I wish I might ask you something more than this, Bynge. I would do so, but •" "Ask it, sir," the"} younger man said earnestly. "Believe me, if it is in my power, I will gladly grant it." The other looked at him keenly for a moment. "Will you be my girl's guardian, Bynge?" was what he asked. "Will you take the responsibility of her care upon your shoulders? I know it is a big thing to ask; but still "It is a great responsibility," John Bynge said, in a subdued way. He had not been in the least prepared for this. Gretton sighed. "Too much so. I feared this, and yet you told me to speak out." Bynge looked at him encouragingly. "And I stick to that, sir. It is a great, a very great responsibility; but I will undertake it if it will give you any comfort. Please Heaven, however, you may live for many years to come." Then he laughed a little. "You don't know very much about me, Gretton. I am— —" Mr Gretton stopped him with a weak gesture.' "I know quite enough," he said, and he gave a deep sigh. "Bynge, you have done me a great, great service. I shall go content almost if I leave her to your care. Some othdr time, not now, I must speak to you openly on another matter. The—the secret of my life must be told to you now. As the guardian of Millicent Gretton and her fortune, it is only right you should know the story of how that fortune was made, of how I have been.an exile so long from my ' country, and—and many' other things." Now it was only too plain to John Bynge that the , sick man was thoroughly exhausted. He rose, and summoning the valet from the deck outside, went quietly away, his thoughts a little confused and troubled aa he went. "I am coming out in a new capacity," he said to himself. "Guardian to an heiress. I only pray poor Gretton may be spared far longer than he imagines, for it is a tremendous responsibility. Perhaps I was wrong to accept it." Nevertheless, he had no intention of backing out now, though as he sat down in as sheltered a corner as he could find, he realised all at once what a very great difference this tie would make in his life. His liking for Hugh "Gretton had, however, grown into something of an affectionate nature during the past few months, and more especially so since this sudden and sad illness, and there was something keenly pathetic to him about the failing of the man's life just when he was returning to England, after what he had himself called years of exile. "Of what use are his thousands to him now?" John Bynge said to himself. His thoughts circled sympathetically about the man he hadfjust left. It was no surprise to him to have been told there was some big secret in Hugh Gretton's life. He wonderedyaguely. what nature the promisad confidence would be, and then his thoughts went' by stow degrees back to the moment when Gretton had been so suddenly struck with illness. "It is' strange he cannot recollect anything about it," Bynge said to himself. "I remember I was just pointing out that girl's loveliness to him. By Jove I" he added quickly, "Gretton gave her a start, and no mistake, poor child! I wonder what has become of her? „ I hope she is not ill!" He roused himself after awhile to take a walk about the saloons and passages, but no sign of Sigrid was. to be seen. He came at last to the conclusion that, despite her hopeful prophecy for herself, she must be ill after all; and ill she was—poor, desolate young creature—but not in the k way he imagined. She was sitting crouched in a stuffy second-class cabin which she shared with Christine, who, however, was so needful to her mistress that Sigrid had scarcely seen her; and with her beautiful head pressed against the hard cushions, she was thinking wearily, sadly, hopelessly, of her future, of her lost happy childhood. A sort of apathy had settled upon her after that interview with Lady Yelvertoun. She had awakened into a momentary passion when she had spoken so straightforwardly to her mistress, but now this was gone, and she seemed to see that for some sad, strange reason it was hopeless for her to struggle against her destiny. (To be Continued.)