A GIRL TO LOVE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9080, 2 May 1908, Page 2

A GIRL TO LOVE.

By BERTHA M. CLAY. Author of " Thrown on tho World," " Her Mother's Sin," Beyond Pardon," " The Lost Lady of ILuldon," " Dora Thorne," " An Ideal Love," etc.

CIIAI'IER Xl.—Continued

"Grant, this is the organist, Mis* lain Craig," Rutherford said, his eyes twinlcling with merriment. "Miss Craig—-Mr Leslie Grant, a new and valuable acqirsition to our band of workers."

The dark eyes of the girl were raised to Victor's face, and within their limpid deeps was an expression of questioning su"prise. Then they were quickly lowered, while a rich carmine sprang into her cheeks. Victor acknowledged the introduction with a slight bow, and the usual conventional words. Miss Craig's face war. in shadow, and he could not tell what shy was like, and he didn't particularly care. In tho dim light of an expiring lamp he caught the Hash of her eyes, ' and he knew that such a musician must hive beautiful and soulful eyes. "Mr Rutherford delights in giving one little surprises, Miss Craig," he aa id while they were leaving the vestry. "I was quite under the impression that che organist was a man. I have enjoyed your music very much, and intended asking the musician to play for my exclusive pleasure at some future time." Again he caught the flash of the girl's eyes, and he began to wonder what she was really like. "As y«u are Mr Rutherford's friend, I shall bo very pleased, Mr Grant, i "

She hesitated, and he thought, "What a remarkably sweet voice." The curate joined them, and the •conversation became general. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he t,aid. "but the verger kept me waiting. He is positive that we have finished a quarter of an hour earlier than we usually do. What a delightful night!" As they passed out of the churchyard Victor noticed that a man was .standing in the shadow of a thickly leaved acacia, and in that man he recognized Tom Kennedy. He called out "Good-night," but Kennedy did not respond. "Msa Craig," Mr Rutherford said hastily, "I am sure that you and Mr Grant will get along together in famous styla. Your pursuits and sympathies are very mcuh the same. Have you'read any of Leslie Grant's hooka?" " Yes," The girl spoke softly, and her eyes were raised for the fraction ■ol' a second. "And I have enjoyed them very much." "You see, Grant, she writes a bit herself. Oh, don't protest, because I have seen some of your work!" Miss Craig was looking at him reproachfully, and the moonlight was shining full upon one of the sweetest faces Victor had ever seen. "Mr Rutherford!" the girl said, blushing hotly. Then she came to a halt. "I think we part here. I live at tho end of the street, Mr Grant." "Nothing of the kind/' the curate said. "I intend escorting you to your very doors, and Mr Grant doesn't mind in the least."

He glanced back the way that they had come, and bit his lips. lorn Kennedy wasn't fifty yards behind. Of cour.se, this was the man's way home, too, and he had a perfect .right to walk just where he pleased, but. still, the curate's eyes glinted with anger. Five minutes took them to Miss Crqig's home, and Victor saw that it was a very humble dwelling. It was i\ mean house in a mean street. The curate was talking earnestly to the girl, and Victor strolled ahead. Then he heard his name spoken by John llu ther ford, a "id observed that Miss Craig was more than ordinarily disturbed.

"It's about Tom Kennedy, Grant. He pester;; Miss Craig with his unwelcome attentions follows her through the streets, and knocks at her dour. If 1 weren't a clergyman, I'd punch his head! Miss Craig and her mother have apartments here, and, being comparative strangers, they haven't any friends within easy reach." He turned to Isla Craig. "You see, Mr Grant, is employed at the same factory where Kennedy is timekeeper, and can deal with him better than anybody else." Miss Craig was visibly distressed. "I hate causing so much trouble," she said; then the soft, limpid eyes flashed. "The creature sends picture post-cards upon which he scribbles sentimental rhymes." Her face flamed under Victor's scrutiny. "I did not want any bother. I merely wished to resign, and go quietly away." "Never, with my consent," exclaimed Rutherford energetically; "we couldn't do without you." "1 have only been lisre three 'months," she smiled gently. "And vim did without ine well enough before." "I will speak to Kennedy to-mor-row, Miss Craig," Victor said. He knitted his brows. "I did not think ine man a coward, too," be muttered. Then Ins face brightened. When may I hear you play the organ again Misi Craig "You made me ] a half promise, I believe'.'" She turned to Mr Rutherford. j

"When may 1?" she naked naively. "Whenever you like. You have ionly to speak to the verger." He i'.pjcoared to be pleased that the two were;becoming so friendly. Then he .aider.!: "I will make the necessary arrangements for to-morrow evening. Will six o'clock suit you ■'Grant? That will give you time to !get back to dinner. Don'tthink for one moment that you are giving Miss Craig an atom of trouble. is a musical enthusiast, and would like to grind at the organ eight hours a clay." "It is a magnificent instrument," sighed the girl. "And was given to the churchjj by one of the biggest swindlers of the -century," observed the curate rue-

fully. "Many of the parishioners kicked, but it's a beautiful organ ! Tt is a remarkable thing, but good Christians rarely give anything to the church of much intrinsic value. They never seem to have anything to give." "To-morrow evening at six, Miss Craig," Victor said, taking her hand within his own. "Shall I call here for you, or meet you at the church?" "At the church, please." Her soft voice trembled. "Good-night." Both men turned their steps homeward, with Rutherford talking in his impulsive, impetuous way. "She is a good girl, sensible, amiable, beautiful! She was sent to lis by a clergyman in the South —a chum of my vicar's. Her father died suddenly, ard i'c was the old story—a drop from supposed affluence to poverty. So Miss Craig's accomplishments had to bo turned to practical uses, and here she is. In a very great measure we are responsible for her safety and comfort and I have been bitterly annoyed by Kennedy. The very absurdity of that foul-smelling loafer! Dear —dear! Because the lady has to earn her own living he places her upon an equality with our general servant Mary Ann. I wonder if he has gone home?" Victor was silent. Where had he seen Isla Craig before? The instant sli3 looked into his eyes an indefinable sense of recognition impelled him to look again. No, he was not mistaken and she gazed at him with the candor and confidence that one shows to a true friend. Yes, Tom Kennedy was at home. They met him in the passap;e leading from the street, and he seemed to be going out again. Victor pressed the curate's arm significently, and came to a halt directly in front of Kennedy. "I want to speak to you, Tom," he said coolly. "I will be with you in a few minutes, Mr Rutherford. Wait for me in my room, and we'll have a smoke before turning in. Now, Tom, where shall it be?" "I'm going into the cool air," growled Kennedy. "I suppose your yarn will keep untii morning?" "No, it won't keep. I'll walk a little way with you," Victor answered. "Please yourself," was the sullen rejoinder, "but I'm not fretting for your company. And I can guess pretty well what is coming. You've been listening to that sneak of a curate, and don't think that I'm going to have you poke yourself into my affairs. I won't stand it, Mr Grant." "Silence!" Victor said sterrly. "Mr Rutherford is an honourable gentleman, and my friend." "Oh, don't give me any of that cant! You make me sick. Now, out with your say, because I'm in a hurry. He snatched open the door with fierce impatience, but his eyes quailed before Victor Pelham's flashing orbs. "What I have to say, Tom Kennedy, concerns a young lady—Miss Isla Craig. The lady objects to your impertinent attentions, and I wish them to cease from this hour."