A HEART'S TRIUMPH.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9129, 30 June 1908, Page 2

A HEART'S TRIUMPH.

By Effle Adelaide Rowlands, Author of "Hugh Gretton's Secret," "A Splendid Heart," -Brave Barbara," "The Temptation of Mary Barr," "Senna's Love Story," etc.

CHAPTER XL-Continued. v 1 Thoughts such as these were prom-, inent in the young man's mind in the , • days following his return, and other j thoughts followed naturally —J , thoughts that were half-arixious as j ; to Cecil's future; to the life that j j was to be hers now that the barrier of her old, strange existence was ( swept away, and she was free. The remembrance of her great wealth brought sorrow to Michael— ( sorrow that was not personal. ( "Left as she is, utterly alone, who cvn say what danger she may not j have to face? And she is so utterly ignorant of the world; she will give . her faith and trust to the first who • comes." ] It w<*s only when he thought of , Paul Darnley that Michael felt a cer- J tain touch of comfort. t "There at least, is one noble } friend. Pray God he may have the ] power to* keep her from harm," he i said to himself." ( His mother and sister found a j little change in Michael on this visit j j home, but it was a natural change;! he had grown older-looking. He was j j less cheery, thej thought; but for , this they had an explanation ready, j since he had nn plans settled for his 1 future, and Michael never loved idle- , ness. , His mother had a weakness for ] talking about his sojourn at the White Abbey. "I was so tempted now and then tt run down and pay you a visit. Do you suppose Sir Charles would have i , refused to let me enter his gates? ; That would have been carrying his I ( prejudice against us poor women to i too far a point. I had a longing to j j see you in that little cottage joUj. lived in. And will no one live ttere : any more, Michael? Is the cottage to j ; be unoccupied. It seems very sad." j ; Michael found he could discuss the . subject of the White Abbey with as- ; tonishing calmness. "It will be hard to say what may or may not be done now that Misa ] Laeklyne has complete control of the property," he said, on one occasion; "but of one thing lam very sureshe will dispense her wealth charit-, ably, and no one will need to ask or to suffer if she has anything 'tj eay in their lives." I "I should be almost frightened if I < had so much money," Mr* Everest said, with simple truth. "0 ily yesterday I was reading about ihe large amount of wealth Sir Charles Laeklyne has left. It is a great responsibility for a young girl. I hope, Michael, she has some nice relation or friend, who will take care of her." Michael spoke warmly of Paul Darnley. It crossed his mind, as he spoke,'that he would one day soon take Paul at his word and pay him a visit in the city. He should then, at least, have the joy of hearing mention of Cecil's name. Ho had bean a fortnight in London, and to him that fortnight had been a century. "I wish I could have been permitted to know her," Mrs Everest said wistfully. Her motherly heart had gone out wholly to the very rich girl who must be, from all Michael had said, so desolate. These little conversations about Cecil generally took place when Michael and his mother were alone. Itneeds no very strong guide to instruct a mother's love in tact, and without questioning, or, indeed, without understanding thoroughly, Cornelia Everest felt this was a subject. Michael preferred to keep confidential. After a third week had been added to the fortnight, Michael could resist his longing no further, and took his way one moning to the address Paul Darnley had given him when he bade him look him up some day. A disappointment awaited the young man, for Mr Darnley was not at his office. "I do not exactly know what Mr Darnley's movements may be just now," a clerk told Michael. "He is still in the North, I believe, but he may come here any day. His marriage is fixed to take place in London • in November, so he is sure to bs here in good time for that event," the clerk had added with a faint smile. Michael left his name, and wended his way homeward on the outside of an omnibus. He felt tired and dispirited, and had not the energy to turn and rouse himself, as he was daily teaching himself to do. He had a tremendous yearning to take a train and be whirled out of London down to the heart of that quiet, rural Westshire back to the widespreading grounds of the White Abbey, to ito giant trees, to the calm, sweet rest that had characterised Cecil's home to him. She had told him he was to come and see her; she had expressed a wish to meet hia mother. Would it, then, be such a very impossible thing for him to contemplate, this idea of going down jus-; merely to have direct news of her— pci-chance of seeing her, of hearing her speak? For a few brief moaientd Michael's h;art beat in a swift, thrilling fashion; he hdlf-ro3j from his seat to descend and pirk out a goo.l hansom; than ha controlled himself. Of what use would sjeh a journey be? It would only redouble the miserable thatburdentd hia heart; it would only enforce still more heavily tu duty ha hud before him t'j try to tear this gill's influence from his thoagnls, and to burn to live his whold life without even t v >e joy of her memory t.> chevr and help him. As Michael sat lost in hjs perplexed and pained thoughts! on the top of tha omnibus that was rolling down Holborn, his eye was caught vaguely by a faca that seemed to him familiar, and that had pome faint thread of connection with life at the White Abbey. '• JJfjjThe man ho looked at was standing besides hansom, from which he*had evidently just alighted, and a *.vo-

man, who remained in the cab, was leaning forward to speak to her late companion. A stoppage of the omnibus for a moment allowed Michael to take further glances at the toll, handsome young man in his smart attire, and in an instant ho had re:ognised the fine figure of Feilx Bingham. Michael looked at Felix with only curiosity, and that other feeling which could find no outlet. It was not jealousy yet remembering all that the name of this man signified to his mother, and so to himself, Michael might have been excused had some jealously come when he looked on Felix. He noted now, with just a faint element of surprise, tbat the woman Felix was with was hardly the young man's equal, if appear; ances were to be relied upon. She was decidedly attractive-looking, and wore fashionable clothes, but her bright auburn hair had an artificial touch about it, and there was no mistake about the paint and powder that covered her face. Two men sitting behind Michael had caught sight of her, too. "There, do you see the girl in that hansom? Look—to the right! She is talking to that man on the pavement!" said one of the men. "Well, that's Kate Kearney, the dancer. Fine-looking girl, isn't she? And can't she dance? I think she's the best of the lot of them on the boards just now." Michael turned away and looked no more on Felix. Perhaps i*. was the contrast between this time and the first and last time he had seen him that brought that faint suggestion of contempt and dislike suddenly into Michael's thoughts. Perhaps the knowledge that Felix's father had left a record none too white behind him now prejudiced him against the son; hut whatever the cause, the mood passed, and long before Oxford street was reached Michael had forgotten Felix Bingham's existence. The moment was to come, and not far distant, when he would have reason to remember the little episode he had witnessed this day, and to remember it with feelings of shocked and angry pain.

. CHAPTER XII. WHAT HAPPENED UPON A DAY OF NOVEMBER GLOOM. To progress as well as Felix had i done was certainly satisfactory, but | the road to a speedy and quiet marriage with Cecil was still beset with difficulty. By all means, Felix desired to get the marriage arranged without his uncle's knowledge. Felix knew his influence with Sebastian Thorold. He was perfectly well aware that the old man regarded him as the best and dearest creature on earth, but this deep and strong affection notwithstanding Felix felt lie should have to cope with very definite objections on his uncle's part to his marriage with Cecil. Even if he could use his influence to work Doctor Thorold round to his view of the matter, he was convinced that his uncle would insist" that there should be a lung delay—an engagement of a year at the least. Moreover, he knew that Sebastian • Thorold would instantly revert to Paul Darnley as soon as the affair was broached to him, and for every reason Felix was determined Darnley should not enter into the matter. He could say farewell to all hope of touching Cecil's wealth if this were to happen! (To be Continued).