A HEARTS TRIUMPH.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9124, 25 June 1908, Page 2

A HEARTS TRIUMPH.

CHAPTER IX.—Continued. Doctor Thorold answered him quietly. Felix's irritation on the suDject of Mrs BrownlOw —as Cecil's guest was now called—-was not quite comprehensive to the older man. "You can hardly be expected to understand human nature as I do, Felix," he said. "I grant you this poor woman has acted very wrongly in many ways, but she came here in a condition of such cerebral excitement that the marvel is she did not commit some terrible crime in the frenzied craving she had for revenge. As it was, she contented herself with using words for weapons, and she chose such words as would deal the heaviest blow, not only to the man who had' wronged her, but to J;he innocent girl she now claims as ner child. I questioned' her," Doctor • Thorold continued, "on this very point, and I gathered from her that she had brought a letter from the chaplain of the Australian prison to the chaplain of Clevelands; moreover, that she had carried this letter to Clevelands the day she came here, She now has no remembrance of what words she used when she firs} spoke to Cecil; the introduction of Clevelands was a chance one. As things are, I see no reason to doubt her," Doctor Thorold concluded. He himself was kindness itself to Mrs He went daily to ' the White Abbey, on purpose to visit j har professionally, for she was in an alarmingly poor state of health. With care, her liie might be prolonged a few years; but it would need great care to reach even that far. Ignorant of the influence which Felix already weilded over Cecil's life, Sebastian Thofold worked indirectly to give his nephew more chance of strengthening that power. He wrote him constantly on the subject of Mrs Brownlow's health, for though he now knew his nephew's views as a man ■ concerning her, he felt Felix would „ not let such views influence him in his professional capacity. " When nexi you can spare a few hours to rim down and see me, 1 shall ask you to go and look ac this poor creature," he'wrote on one occasion. " Your opinion will be ireiher than mine. To plea'.e Cecil, i am taking up ' the case quite alone; but 1 feel 1 ought really to pass it over to my colleague here in Minchester. He is a young, and, 1 believe, a clever, man, but Cecil will have none of him. i don't know what line the child's future is going to take. She shrinks from all contact with the outside world. She will not open her gates even to acquaintances, and yet she cannot be allowed to waste her youth in this kind of imprisonment. How I wish she had a good, kind woman to whom she could turn at this time of her life! Poor child! she knows none of the joys of friendship, just as she has never known the meaning of love or home in their proper sense. She is content, she says, with the two friends she has—myself and Paul Damley; but we can never be to her what a woman could be. ; Probably when Mr Damley is married things will be better for Cecil. I understand there is to be a wedding before long. Cecil gave me this news yesterday, and you will he commissioned soon to purchase a handsome weddinggift. Let me know when you can find time to come down.' / ' This letter gave Felix great satisfaction. In particular, the news aboiJt Paul Darnley pleased him beyond measure. Darnley and his friendship for Cecil had, \in fact, been the one obstacle Felix had seen in the pathway of his plans. He was not sure that Paul might not know something of the truth of his financial and moral position in the world of London, but he was quite sure that the other man had not conceived any marked liking for him, just as he, on his side, had taken a violent dislike to Darnley. No two men could have been more widely apart in sympathy or in their views of the manipulation of life; and Darnley, therefore, with his prior claim to a place in Cecil's regard, could have been a very dangerous element to contend with. But the news of an approaching marriage changed all thi3, and Felix laughed 1 with content as he saw how clear the road was ahead of him. He laughed again when he read, a little later, the formal announcement of Paul Damley'a forthcoming marriage to Miss Dorothea Sedworth, in the "Morning Post." The paragraph /feeepied to amuse him. "So this is the charming, womanly young wife who my dear old uncle imagines will be a good, helpful friend to Cecil Lacklyne! Not much chance of that dream coming true, my dear uncle. I don't care much for you, Mr Paul Darnley, buc I can afford to pity you, ail the same! Dora Sedworth and happiness vre scar, ely synonymous terms, especially when the man she marries is one who slaver, hard for evevy penny he makes. Well, life is certainly funnier than a burleaquo now and then !'' J Felix, of course, frroto to his uncle nnd arranged an early dace to go to Minche-jtc:*. "You had' bettor ascertain first whether Miss Lacklyne would like me to pay a professional visit to Mrs Brownlow," he wrote. He always used his finest diplomacy with his uncle. This was necessary, as it would have to bo through his uncle that matters would he brought to a crisis. Cecil accepted Doctor Thorold's suggestion that his nephew sijoulu v:tut he.- invalid. Her pale cheek cslour'c 1 and her heart had a strange t.irill at the more thought of seeing Felix to soon again; yet it grieved her to know that Doctor Thorold held sich a serious opinion of Helen iirownlow's health. The days that

By Effie Adelaide Rowlands, Author of "Hugli Gretton's Secret," "A Splendid Heart," -'Brave Bvrbara," "The Temptation of Mary liarr," "Solina's , love Story," etc.

had gone by since that wet, desolate afternoon of her father's funeral had worked a feeling of tenderness toward.; the sick woman out of a troubled chaos of the girl's feelings. 'lkey had been much together, and the softening influence of the pure, genLle-natuie:! younger woman had worked a great change in the older one. The hard, bitter, almost repulsive, look that had spread over her face as a mask that first moment of her arrival at the White Abbey had fallen away. She looked much older, yet there had crept back to her eyes a colour-and a light that seemed to speak of former beauty in no slight degree. The lips were mournful, not defiant; the shortcropped hair was snowed with white. As she lay back on her pillows, she had a pathetic air that brought the tears to Cecil's eyes unconsciously. She was surrounded by every luxury. One of the largest rooms had been given to her, and it was on this room that Cecil lavished most of hexthought, and in which most of the handsome things Felix had chosen were placed. The woman, resting in the easy chairs, or, as was most freqiunt, lying on the lace-edged pillows of the beautiful bed, uttered no thanks for all that was done for her, She had her own mute method of speaking her gratitude. Her eyes would follow Cecil wherever the girl moved, and truly she had a sweet picture to charm her weary, troubled eyes. The clothes Cecil wore were out of nil touch, mayba, with the fnodern fashion, but they had a grace about them that suited her. Old Nini's fingers wera responsible for much that her beloved child now wore, but she did not work alone. Once again Doctor Thorold's housekeeper's aid had been invoked, and a sewingwoinan from the town had taken up her abode at the White Able/, where, dominated by Mini, she gradually produced a wardrobe of garments for the young mistress of the house. These were not conventional garrnents at all, and no doubt the seamstress, from Minchester was shocked at the fact that Miss Lacklyne had ordered no crape or heavy morning clothes, but contented herself with gowns that were of simple black material, madj in a fashion which certainly was many years behind the mode of Winchester. Cecil troubled herself little ibout the clothes. At times she missed the freedom of her old garb, and was tempted to slip into them, but Mini had taken an early opportunity to lock these away, and so the brown velveteen doublets were banished to the past, together with all the strange appurtenances of life as it had been when Sir Charles Lacklyne ruled his little world.

Strange as the life had been then, the lifu Cecil was leading now was in its way equally strange. Doctor Thorold was right to deplore the absence of some good, wise female friend". Had sjch a friend existed, the powar that Felix Bingham was surely exercising over Cecil's young, ignorant, sensitive heart and mind would have been greatly minimised, if not altogether prevented. Paul Darnley; man though he was, would have been a sure protector to the girl at this vital moment of her life could he have been free to give her his attention; but Paul had never been bayk to the White Abbey, and though ho wrote frequently to Cecil, the gh'l felt, without in the least understanding why it should he so, that her old friend Paul had changed, and she sorrowed quietly over this, for she had given a warm measure of her childish affection to the man whom her father honoured with his friendship. ' (To be continued).