A GIRL TO LOVE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9072, 24 April 1908, Page 2

A GIRL TO LOVE.

By BERTHA M. CLAY. Author of " Thrown on the World," " Her Mother's Sin," Beyond rar;l).i," ' " Tha Lost Lady of Iladdon," " Dora Thorne," "An Ideal Love," etc.

CHAPTER IV. -Continued. "I am going to address myself to yoj now." he taid, pleasantly, "and my subject is of vital interest to the three of us. Our interests are in conflict, and when a man's pocket is touched, his friendship cools to a million degiejs bdow zero." "Wnat hort of friendship, sir/ Jasper Trenwith shrugged his shoulders. "All friendships. No man loves his neighbour as he loves himself—and I don't think that you can blame him for it. The economic conditions of the world brush away sickly and sentimental considerations of the kind simply because money is an indispensable factor. The moment our interests clash, either in love or in business, wo are at war with each other—and »n« must be swept aside if the difference cannot be comDromiscd." "You mean, sir, that the weaker goes to the wall, no matter huW jubt his cause?" said Harry dryly. "That is the usual thing." •"Then if I were the weaker side, and my case was good and just in the sight of Heaven and man, I should | probably shoot the oppressor, and deem it a worthy action in the interests of humanity at large. Neither should I seek absolution by giving a large sum of money to some church. If you think lamto be frightened into selling to you Mr Pelham's colliery, you are vaotly mistaken, MrTrenwith. The outcrop is exhausted, and I am going for the sixtv-foot seam half a mile under ! Victor was taken by surprise, and glanced-uneasily from one to the other; but the gentle, indulgent smile never left Jasper Trenwith s face. The luminous eyes softened and became misty; his voice trem-

bled. "You are unjust-unkind, Mr Owen. I have said that our interests are in conflict; our employees know | it and light over it with hands and i tongui s. 1 have therefore decided to ] abandon my claim, and leave Mr Pelham master of the field!" A half-hour later Harry Owen was being driven to Dudley in Mr Trenwith's autdnobile. "I am completely cornered,' he thought. "One cannot get behind that man's subtle brain. Everything he saya and does means something totally different to the intier workings of his mind." He gritted his teeth, and his face whitened. "And I have reason to hate him for—for something else. Perhaps he doesn't dream of the wrong he is doing me there with his accursed money.'' The car swept round u bend in the lane, and had brushed off one of the back wheels of a smart victoria, almost before any one realized that there had been an accident. White-faced and trembling, the chaffeur pulled up. "Oh, Lord!" he gasped. ' Its the squire's carriage,, and Miss Leighton's thrown out!" But Harry Owen wa3 alreadv bend- ' ing over the unconscious girl.

CHAPTER V. HARRY OWEN'S LOVE. Within a few minutes Nathalie ' Leighton wa3 smiling into Harry's troubled eyes. "I am quite unhurt, Mr Owen," she said, walking to and fro. "Women go into 8 faint over nothing. It is most fortunate that the coachman kept his horse under control." "It's my fault," Harry said remorsefully. "I was urging the chaffeur tu greater speed, as I wished to keep a particular appointment at thw colliery'. I must see that the man is exonerated from blame'.' "Then you had better resume your journey, Mr Owen." "The appointment and all else can go to hang! I am going to take you to Pendinas, and send help to your coachman. I shall not be satisfied, either, until a doctor has seen you. It serves me right," he added bitterly, "for accepting the loan of Jasper Trenwith's car. The man is my evil genius." He motioned to the chaffeur, who v, ai standing apart holding n conversation with Mias Leighton's coachman. * The horse had been ireed of tho damaged carriage, and the carriage dragged to one side, so that the passage in the lane was clear for any other vehicles that might happen along. With tender solicitude, Harry Owen helped Nathalie into the automobile, and then told the driver to go at a very moderate speed. "Why have we not seen you at Pendinas lately?" the girl said gently. "We used to be such good friends." "That was before my poor dad died. I was liia hair, and the reputed rich man left me very little." "Don't you think £hat an unkind speech?" Nathalie asked reproachfully. "Well —l've been busy; 1 have to earn h living, and I am no longer good in your father's sight." "I wo'i't believe it, Mr Owen!" Nathalie's eyes sparkled resentfully. "You have become morbid and suspicious." "Ask Sir Charles," ha began, then hit his lips, vexed with himself. "I certainly will." Thero was a short silence, until Harry broke in pleadingly: '.'Forget what I have said, Miss Leighton. I spoke hastily. I am morbid, ill-tempered, and suspicious. You see, I have had so many disappointments lately. I won't go beyond the lodge gates, and you'll let me know that you are all right, 1 won't you?" He took a bit of paste-

board from his card-case and scribbled upon it. "There's my address. Send me a line to-morrow." "Why won't you come to the house?" Nathalie asked, her lips quivered. "How strange it will appear if you wait here for the automobile to pick you up." "I've done with the automobile; I won't ride another yard in it," he answered savagely. He ordered the chaffeur to stop, and sprang to the ground. With remarkable agility, Nathalie followed him, naying: "Send the automobile home. I have no further need of it." Then they were alone. "My left ankle does pain me a little bit, and you must help me along the drive, Harry." Harry! His brain reeled.; They had been sweethearts once, when he was a boy of eighteen and, she a girl of twelve. And sometimes these eraly love-dreams are very beautiful and very real. "May I lean on your arm?" she continued. "If you must, Nathalie," he answered softly, tremulously, "but we shall be seen by the servants, and—«"d--" .. . . ;. I

"Bother the servants 1 . You never | used to mind." i I "WSwere sweetheaits then," he said, his heart leaping. "Happy children," she corrected. "Companions, playmates. We were too young to be disturbed by sentiment." Her words struck him like a douche of cold water. "I think I will rest, Harry," Nathalie said, when they were half-way through the avenue. "You remember the old rustic seat under the trees? And perhaps it will be the best if I finish the walk unaided, or people may make a fuss over a trifle. Come. I want to talk with you." Hn led the way undsr the trees, along a very faint track in the grass. Thib had once been a well-beaten path, and the rustic seat in a rustic bower had been their trysting-place. "I am neglecting my business," he thought, "for what? An understanding, a complete disillusionment, perhaps." I He looked at the girl's perfect face

—the sunny blue eyes, the shining brown hair, and was struck by the disproportion between them. Hexheart had never beat in harmony with his own. ' "Three lotlg years, Nathalie, since I was last here," he observed, dusting the seat with a handkerchief. "It was the twelfth of June." "What a remarkable memory you have, Harry!" "For 3orne things. I remember thu day, the place, the hour, when I first beheld you. It was in church, Nathalie, one sunny Sunday morning, and the light from the painted windows shed a halo of glory about your yellow head. You were only a i3hild, and I believed you to be an angfflf." "What absurd fancies boys have!" Nathalie laughed uneasily. "Jiutyou were soon undeceived." "No; I prefer to keep up the illusion." "You can't imagine that I am the least bit like an angel now!" "Sometimes." (To be continued.)