A GIRL TO LOVE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9070, 22 April 1908, Page 2

A GIRL TO LOVE.

By BERTHA M. CLAY. ' [ Author of " Thrown on the World," " Her Mother's Shi/' Keyond Pardon," " The Lost Lady of Haddon," " Doni. Thornr," "An Ideal Love," etc.

CHAPTER 111.- -Continued. "A peal of bells for St. Hilda's, and a new organ for the Wcalcyan chapel," he mused. "A week by the sea for every poor family within a radius of twenty miles. That will do for. the p euent, Mr Walker." Jasper Trenwith quitted the library and stiolled into ihe grounds; thence he went into the co lservntory where Sam Price was at work. "A camellia for my buttonhole, Price. lam glad to see you looking so bright and smart." "Yes, sir. It's as though the birds are singing in my heart," said Sam. "If I'd gone under yesterday I might have done murder." "Hush! Forget it—forget it. There is some good in all men—there is happiness and to spare in the world if we but seek it in .the proper spirit." While the clocks were chiming the hour of eleven, Jasper Trenwith's automobile carried him to Pendinas. He was not surprised to learn from the complaisant butler that Sir Charles was out. "But Miss Leighton is in the south drawing-room, sir," he added. "Announce me, Parkes; Miss Leighton is expecting me." Jasper Trenwith dropped into an easy chair, but was on his feet again in a moment, [j He paced the soft carpet, and once or twice passed one hand over his eyes. They ached and felt tired, and his lips were hot and dry. He had faced a crisis involving a million of money without an extra heart-throb, and now he clutched at his side as if to prevent that same heart's wild leaping. The butler came back with a beaming face. Jasper Trenwith had the wonderful power of making all men, the great and the lowly, teel when in hisjpresence the pleasure of true fellowship. His charm of manner and speech, his magnetic personality were irresistible. He went into the room where Nathalie wa3 awaiting him, and gravely took one of her trembling hands between hia osn. "I told you last night that I would come to-day, and I am here, Nathalie," he said gently. "You know why?". She disengaged her hand, and faced him bravely—haughtily. "1 promised to be at home this 'morning to no one but you, Mr Trenwith, and I have kept that promise." He gazed upon her with sad and regretful eyes; he moistened his lips with his tongue, and made an effort t>speak. "Don't make me uncomfortable," Nathalie said pettishly. "I thought that you understood." He breathed hard. "I never doubted you—until r.ow. There was a tacit engagement between ua, and since I have known you, Nathalie, I have baen a better man. I have loved you loved you " He strode to the window, and looked out upon the glories of the spring morning. "What have you to say to me, Nathalie?" he continued, turning swiftly upon bur. "No real engagement ever existed between us, Mr Trenwith, and none ever will." "Your father and I have talked of our marriage in your presence, Nathalie." She shivered. 'I know it, and I have said nothing, because I know also that you can crush him like an empty eggshell. You have always coveted this house — these lands—and with one end in view you have induced him to mortgage and to speculate until we are overwhelmed by your very shadow. I a'dmit that I have been dazed by your brilliance, and your wealth, but the very idea of marriage with you is levolting." "And my love —the one absorbing ipassnon of my life—counts for nothing?" he asked calmly. "Nothing!" "And you are prepared to face ■comparative poverty?" "I am not afraid of that, Mr Trenwith. if " She stammered, and he added, •with a faint sneer: "If love is there also! Fancy the .beautiful Misa Leighton as a beggar maid! Fancy this bit of Dresden doing the cooking and cleaning!" He laughed harshly, but the savage mood left him as swiftly as a lightning flash. "Nathalie," he continued humbly, penitantly, "I am not merely disappointed— I am appalled by the calamity which has overtaken me. You will always be Nathalie in my thoughts—-at once my goddess, my saint, my guiding star." "Oh, please don't, Mr Trenwith," the gitl said faintly. "I am no goddess or saint. lam selfish—worldly—useless. I feel it more mid more every day. I* am surprised to hear you talk such nonsense. I may be gouu-l iOking " "You are as lovely as a peri." Nathalie flushed and paled. "I don't know anything about peris, but I have heard myself likened to a pretty doll. Now will you please be frank with me, Mr Trenwith? I am dreadfully afraid of you. I know that when you make up your mind to have a thing, you scruple at nothing until the desire is attained. Do we part as friends, or as enemies?" | "I could never be your enemy, i . Nathalie," hs said gently. "You are begging the question. To be plain, have you taicen no for an answer?" He walked to tho window again, and for a few moments the silence was oppressive to Nathalie Leighton. She glanced at the man's splendid outline, and saw that his lips were set hard. Yet there was a smile upon his face and in his luminous eyes.

"No," ho said, faring her again, "not yet. idon't believe (hat you know your own nund—or the strength o:' my devotion. For the moment you are under the glamour of the romantic personality of a much younger man. He doesn't 'are two straws for you; he is an idealist, and you are probably no more like his ideal woman than 1 am. Ordinary flush and blond will never satisfy him. In time yon will realize this, and your feelings vvjil eking;;." Nathalie heard, hor fare aflame. She was angry, and 'dtlei'ly humiliated. She feit that she hated Jasper Trenwith. word," she said, rising. Her limbs were shaking under her. "I am afraid of you, and 1 dorr'c trust you. I|believe that at heart vuu ;u-e a bad, winked man. You may ruin my father —you may practise all your Napoleonic arts and powers, but I will never marry yon never!" She quitted the room, Hashing upon him a bitter and disdainful glance, and the door closed after her with a wicked little snap. ' Trenwith did not move for a full minute. His eyes darkened, and his face'-jbecame anguished. "Oh, Nathalie I Nathalie! You do not understand," he murmured; then he paced up and down the room, and his whole demeanor changed. "Pelbam asked me to lunch with him to-day, and 1 said 1 would if I could," he thought. ".Shall I? Yes, I will! It would be grossly unfair to be unfriendly towards an unconscious rival." CHAPTER IV. VICTOR PELHAM'S HOME. The beauties of the hills and vales of Worcestershire have been told in song and story, and in one of the prettiest spots of this adorable county, and »'ithin four miles of the historic town of Worcester, nestled the home of Victor Pelham—poet, author, and idealist. The house was known as the Chase. It was an old-fashioned, rambling place, srrounded by a large garden. The walls were covered with ivy, and the great stone porch was embowered in clematis and roses. The Chase was a huge pile of nooks and gables, arched doorways, and diamond-paned windows. Lovers of the picturesque grew enthusiastic about its varied charms and many a wandering artist had been accorded permission to add the treasure to his sketch-book. Unlike most houses, the Chase contained handsome and airy rooms, a lofty entrance hall, and a broad balcony that ran round three sides of the building. Like the house, the furniture was solid, antique, and beautiful. (To be continued.)