Hugh Gretton's Secret.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8473, 28 June 1907, Page 2

Hugh Gretton's Secret.

CHAPTER Vll.—Continued. "Aye, she is a good woman," he said softly; and then he asked if he couhl help Charlotte, "I heaid you enquiring about a telegram. I am afraid it is a little late for one to arrive now." "It's not for myself, sir," the maid answered. "1 came to inquire for that young lady who is upstairs—thejOne who was travelling with the Countess of Yelvertoun, I mean, sir. She's in a little trouble because she sent a telegram to France this morning, and she's waiting for a reply which hasn't come." John Bynge knit his brows very closely. "I had no idea that that young lady was here," he said slowly. "I fancied she had gone, of course, to London with Lady Yelvertoun." Charlotte looked a trifle mysterious at this. "I don't fancy she has any intention of going on with) her ladyship, air; leastwise, that's what I and Dunning think. And I am not surprised for one, for she didn't have a proper sort of place with the countess; that 1 soon found out," Charlotte added, in a burst of confidence. "I haven't got eyes for nothing! I promised that French person who waits on Lady Yelvertoun that I'd do all I could for Miss Carleton while I was able, and I'm sure I'm very ready to do anything, for she is as nice a young lady as I've ever met or wish to meet; and that's the truth, sir. And I'm very sorry for her being all alone in the world as she is." Sir John detained the woman by little delicate manoeuvres for a few moments. "She has no family, then? She is / not going home?" he asked, and he was conscious of a strange thrill of eager interest in this question. Charlotte shook her head. "She's an orphan, sir, and was brought up abroad in a convent, she's been telling me; and I think, sir, she wants to go back there again. I feel very sorry for her, sir," Charlotte added, with much sincerity, as she was moving away. "It doesn't seem right that one so young and goodlooking as she is should be left alone. Of course, it isn't my business, but I can't help saying that I don't think her ladyship should have left Miss Carleton here as she has done, without knowing or caring what becomes of her." , John Bynge let the maid leave him . after this. He was conscious of a curious excitement, and of an anxiety which was of quite a different nature from that which had oppressed him all day. The news that Sigrid had been left behind was almost startling to him. It was not quite 1 comprehensible to him at this moment why he should trouble himself so much about the matter. True,. Sigrid Carleton was an unusually lovely girl, one to whom men's eyes and thoughts would turn quite naturally; but it was not the memory of her beauty that had sway in John, Bynge's mind now. He, of course, was perfectly conscious of it, but he realized it as something apart from the sympathy which came so readily now for the girl. Moreover, he was still mystified and haunted by the supposition that Lady Yelvertoun and this girl, belonging to Lady Yelvertoun's party, had had seme subtle and powerful effect upon the dead man. It was impossible for him to forget that moment when Hugh Gretton, apparently at sight of Sigrid's loveliness, had been stricken suddenly to the ground; and when he linked this re- .' collection with the story Dunning, the valet, had given him touching Lady Yelvertoun's unexpected appearance in the sick man's cabin, it will be easily seen that Sir John had sufficient ground on which to build a whole fabric of theory and conviction. This desertion of Sigrid by Lady Yelvertoun had connection in his mind with these theories. He could not understand why the girl should have been left behind. Knowing really nothing of the case, he still felt that the desertion of Sigrid had been no part of a preconceived plan, but an idea carried into execution at the last moment. He found his concern for Sigrid's future becoming gradually deeper; thought where she 4 was associated was far more complex and difficult than thought for and about Millicent Gretton. It would be comparatively easy sailing now where his guardianship was concerned. From his brief conversation with the London lawyers, Sir John had quickly found out that he would be left uninterrupted master in his care of Hugh 1 Gretton's daughter and heiress, unless he chose, as he did instantly, to ally himself with the legal firm, and accept them as co-trusteea of the great wealth Millicent would now possess. Onerous and anxious as his position would be where Millicent was concerned, the future gave him not half the trouble and perplexity that came to him now as he stood pondering over all Charlotte ha'i told him, and all that his mind suggested was attached to this matter. Presently he walked out of the hall of the hotel into the chill December night. There was no mistake about the weather on land; it was exceedingly cold, raw, and cheerless, and John Bynge shivered as he pulled up the collar of his coat and started to take a little walk. While he stood hesitating an instant some one moved hurriedly past him from the hotel, and as the tall, slender figure in the brown ulster began to walk swiftly down the street, the lights from one the big lamps flashed upon it, and Sir John recognized Sigrid. In an instant he had followed and overtaken her. "Please forgive me," he said, really hardly conscious of his remark

By EFPIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS. Author of "Seliim's Love Story," "A S,.>(»ntli<l Heart," {'Brave Barbara" "Tfie TemptdtUui of Mary Bar," "Ihe Interloper," eh.. Uc.

in the excv!; i.;ent: that this unexpected rem Hi:',! e brought to him; "but may ! ..peak to • you, Miss Carlfton?" Sigrid yaiu-i;.:; immediately. She wore r,o veil; her face was white and wnrii. He was not sure that she had not been crying very quietly. Ti .»\ was a shadowed look in her eyes thai, seemed to be akin to tears. "Please JY.'.yv'e me," the young man said ag.-M:'. "but I want to know if there is an. 1 Jiing I can do for you. I am told you are anxious about a foreign tele;.;i am." "Very Sigrid answered him, and }u saw now that there were tear-stains on her cheeks and that her lipr .y., ivered. "I —I ought to have had an answer surely by this time. I telf j;r,aphed the first thing this morning.' "Perhaps yuvv friends are away," Sir John as they moved on together involuntarily; it was too cold to stand in the street. "I never thought of that, but I fear you may be right," Sigrid answered. In her voice there was a suggestion of hopelessness that was,peculiarly pathetic to him. She went on speaking to him quite naturally; in fact, he could not but feel that she seemed almost pleased to speak to him of her anxiety. There was something of the child about her this evening that he had not noticed before. In fact, she had been so cold and reserved in her bearing that he had imagined her to have been a woman rather than a young girl. He saw now, however, that she was very young, and his feeling of indignation against Ludy Yelvertoun deepened as he realized this. "I had to come out for■ a little walk," Sigrid said hurriedly, as though fearing he might express surprise at seeing her so late out of doors. "I—l am so restless and undecided." "I hope you will let me help you," John Bynge repeated. "My mother and sister are here, as perhaps you know, and I am sure '* Sigrid interrupted him. "You are very, very good," she said, "but I hope to have my answer from the convent in the morning, and then I shall leave for Havre to-mor-row." Sir John frowned slightly. "And supposing ybu do not hear? Don't think me unkind, but it is better to be prepared for all emergencies. What are your plans, then?" Sigrid was silent. They had walked quite half a dozen yards before she spoke. "I don't know exactly what I shall do," she said then, and he felt, rather than saw, that she was on the verge of breaking into tears. "I —I have not prepared myself for this. I have no plans." v They walked on in silence a little farthjrl The man purposely refrained from speaking; he felt she would say more, and she did almost directly. "After all, I ought to have thought out some other plan," she said, more to herself .than to him. "It is so long now since I have had news from the convent, almost a year and a half. Many things may have happened. Sister Therese may not be there." The tears were coming now in real earnest. Sigrid's whole armour of frozen nerves, of repressed yearning and womanly feebleness, that had grown so much a part of her daily self as to be in her own eyes a natural and lasting defence against all blows and experiences, had fallen away from her slowly, but surely, during this . long, strange day. She had never been utterly alone before, and she was alarmed at the trouble that stood beside the faint pleasure of her sudden independence. She had been too bewildered at the first to realize anything. She had only been conscious of a strange aching pain as Christine, held her for an instant to her heart and pressed several kisses on her cheeks. The French woman had been in a transport of excitement and anxiety about this strange separation between her lady and Sigrid, and she had poured out voluble words of direction to Miss Gretton's maid, running back at the very last to press a little packet into Sigrid's hand, which the girl, on opening an hour or so later, found to contain Christine's quarter's salary. The parting from this kindly creature, and from stolid, faithful Henry, the severance from all further contact with Lady Yelvertoun's contemptuous bitter tongue, and autocratic presence, was something Sigrid had never taught herself to imagine, much less realize, and when the separation came she found herself wholly unprepared for it; in fact, she felt like a creature abandoned and desolate, and the future stood before her a problem far too difficult for her to solve. (To be Continued.)