A HEARTS TRIUMPH.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9116, 16 June 1908, Page 2

A HEARTS TRIUMPH.

CHAPTER V.—Continued,

"There were no servants about. The woman had walked in unannounced, and she stood and faced us with a smile on her lips that gave me a sudden chill. The instant Lacklyne saw her he staggered back as if he had received a blow. Instinctively I put my arm about bim and dragged him, I scarcely know how, into the diningroom, and put him into a chair.. The woman followed us into the room, and seeing that Lacklyne's power of speech had apparently deserted him. I addressed her sharply and asked her business. Her reply was very much to the point. She informed me, in a few curt words, that she had every right to be where she was, seeing that she was Charles Lacklyne's law-ful-Wife, and, therefore, mistress of his house." "And ho said nothing to this?" Felix asked eagerly, as Paul Darnley paused. "I have told you," Darnley said, half-impatiently, "he never spoke again after the shock he had at seeing her." Felix's handsome face clouded. "This lboks deucedly like a confirmation of what she said. It is a hard business for Miss Lacklyne." His brows met in a frown. Had he been too hasty to act? was the thought that came to his mind; and then he dismissed it. After all, what had he done? Nothing, in one sense, while it might be everything in another. Were it to be proved that , this woman could by her claim rob Cecil substantially of her father's fortune—well, what was easier than for him to pass completely out of touch with the girl, thus making it ssem that the words he had spoken eo \ deliberately the night before were but the fancied utterance of some dream brought about by the agitated condition of her mind? On the other hand, if Cecil's share of Lacklyne's wealth was indeed what his uncle had declared it to be, those few words would serve as a foundation for future action, and Felix had no halfmeasures in his mind concerning this future. "I suppose the lawyers will sift it out," he said, seeing that Darnley made no answer to his la-*t speech. He pulled his coat collar well up round his throat. The morning tir was raw and cold. He had refusea to Db driven to Manchester. "The walk will dome good," he had told Mr Darnley. The two men separated now without further word;, and Paul Darnley felt his manner grow a little cold toward this wonderfully handsome nepheW'Of Sebastian Thoroldi "He is a splendid young fellow to look at, and, I suppose, he is all right in his profession, too, yet he has something about him I don't altogether care about. He is too selfopinionated to please me; but, then, he is young and ha 3 already made a reputation for himself, so, perhaps, on the whole, it is,scarcely fair to judge him." There were indeed, other and far more important matters to occupy Mr Darnley's thoughts at this juncture. , Had he been a selfish man, he would have made all haste to get away from the White Abbey and from the difficulties which confronted Cecil Ladclyne. No absolute duty or tie existed to keep him on the spot, but the ,„ : man's sincere affection and pity for the girl would have overruled all other arguments, and urged him to remain, if even self had obtruded itself on his thoughts for a moment. Tha f Paul Darnley set himself and his private matters so completely on one side to minister to Cecil at this most vital moment of her life, was the more generous, because he happened only a few weeks previously to have'entered into an engagement of marriage, with a girl whom he had loved steadily and devuuledly for many years, and who was now looking forward to seeing him on a visit to Scotland. He had paid, his usual flying visit to the White Abbey before going up north, because he want- ' ed to speak with Sir Charles Lacklyne about some speculations which J he had negotiated for the owner of the White Abbey, andjbecause he had a wish to see Cecil again. He had, ' indeed, promised himself much pleas-u-e in telling the girl of the great hippiness that had come into his lif j and of speaking of his betrothed. He had felt assured that Cecil, notwithstanding her isolated and peculiar life, would have given him the fullest sympathy, and would have understood all the thousand and one little joys that went to makeup the substance of his great delight and contentment. About Sir Chariot.' reception of his news he had not deceived himself. He had been prepared to hear himself called a fool and other strong name?,, and it was, perhaps, a pardonable shrinking on his part from meeting such rough treatment that had led him to delay speaking either to Cecil . or her father of his forthcoming marriage. And now it certainly was not the moment to introduce mention of thu matter. Before, however, seeking an interview with poor Cecil or the strange woman who had brought about so swift and tragic a change in life at the White Abbey, Paulhad to devote a few thoughts to his own affairs. He had to despatch telegrams to London and to Scotland, announcing that he could, not leave the White Abbey i nmstliately. "If we'were'only married," ho paid to ,himself, with a little sigh, "things would be different, and I 1 should feel less troubled about this child,-for then, my darling would be abla to look after her; s womfin have the knack of being sweet and heplful under all circumstances,. lam sure Dora will feel a deep sympathy for Cecil when she hears all aboutjher." Ho wrote a long, tender letter, to

By Effle Adelaide -Rowlands, Author Jof "Hugh Gretton's Secret," "A Splendid Heart," -'Bravo Bu-bnra/ 5 "the Temptation of Mary Burr," '-Selina's Xovo Story," etc.

be posted at the same time his telegrams were sent, and he explained fully in this letter the reasons that would prevent him from travelling to Scotland as early as he had arranged. "I hope Dora will quite understand how necessary it is for me to remain here temporarily," he said to him- , self, just a little doubtedly and wist- ! fully, aa he sealed the envelope. . To most people who had any knowledge of pretty Miss Dora Sedworth'a character, this doubt would have been the most natural thing in the world; for much as these people might admire Paul Darnley's fiancee, there were few,, very, very few, who were blinded as he was to the real nature that lay behind the girl's charming manner. She had played with Paul's heart ever since the first day they met; but he, clever, shrewd man of business as he was, ordinarily speaking, never even imagined this. He had worshipped her from afar for several years as a beautiful but wholly unattainable creature. To others, Dora Sedworth was by now a girl who had flirted away her best chances, and was just a trifle passee. Not so to Paul Darnley, who saw her with eyes that enhanced her beauty, and who could hardly credit his own good fortune, when, having reached a point of material and lasting success in his business, he had dared to lay himself and his worldly goods at her feet and had been accepted. Well was it for Darnley's psace of mind that he had hesitated to make mention of her name or their engagement to Sir Charles Lacklyne; for assuredly Cecil's father would have found dome bitter and unpleasant truths to say about the matter. In .his odd, rough way, the dead man had had a sincere affection for Paul Darnley, while it so happened that the whole family of Sedworths were numbered prominently among his favourite destations. Of Dora personally Sir Charles could have known very little, but he would not have let this trifle stop him in his determination to set her family in their true colours before his infatuated friend; and Paul Darnley must have suffered deeply in 1 consequence for he knew well that though Lacklyne could exaggerate, he usually based his remarks on a strong foundation of truth. j Fortunately, therefore, for Paul's I present happiness, no mention had I been made to Sir Charles of so important an event a3 his approaching marriage, and he was able to indulge in his dreams of a golden future unchecked. , His letter, and telegrams sent, i Paul turned his entire attention to I the affairs within the White Abbey!. I He found himself besieged by inquiries from the servants and employees. ; The wheels were stilled in the work- ,' shop, and the three workmen were standing disconsolately about. Paul had a kind word for everybody, but, of course, he could give them no definite idea of what was going to j happen. Life certainly would never be the same again at the White I Abbey as it had The lawyers i had been telegraphed to, and they I would, no doubt; hasten to Miss ! Lacklyne with as much speed as pos- , aible. Till they came, and the will ! had been read, there was nothing to be done but to wait. That perI sonal loss should have more sway in the mindd of all these working people | than regret was, of course, natural. | Their future, which had seemed se- ! cure for years, was now lying before j them cloudy and. alarming, and full cf possible diTicuity. Only one of them seemed to have a thought for the young creature who would suffer most of all by this sudden deal). (To be continued).