A HEART'S TRIUMPH.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9141, 17 July 1908, Page 2

A HEART'S TRIUMPH.

CHAPTER XlX.—Continued

She had shivered as the old story of Charles Lacklyne's cruelty and wrong had been unfolded to her, and it had given her a pang to think that her own dead mother pondered over so often in her lonely childhood's days, and always pictured as an angel, should have been the cause for which this strong, passionate man had stained his soul in sin; yet with all her pity and sorrow still fresh for chti poor creature laid so lately in Minciiester churchyard, Cecil could not find it easy to give hatred to the man who had broken that heart and ruined that life. For so many years they had dwelt together that old association alone kept the girl tied, as it were, to an allegiance of obedience to and respect for her supposed father. Her strongest feeling was one of sorrow that he should have died in the way he had done, and that death should have stood in the way of remorse, repentance and atonement. But strange, painful, bewildering as the past was for Cecil to look back upon, she preferred dwelling upon that to turning her thoughts to the future. She h?d felt so strong to act in those last few days at White Abbey, but her journey to, London and her brief experience of what the world really signified had taken from her some of her firm determination, even her hope. Naturally, Mrs Everest, had not ventured to remonstrate with the girl, save in a vague way, but she had . urged Cecil to let herself be counselled by Mr Darnley, to give him the chance of aiding her. J Cecil, however, was strong in her ; resolve not to let herself be urged. Her desire not to touch a farthing of \ the Lacklyrie money was as earnest as before. | "I know Mr Darnley is my friend," j she said more than once to Michael's , mother; "but I know also, just because he'is my friend, he will con-1 sider it his duty to try to arrange ; things differently, and I will not have things arranged differently. I will not accept any offer of assistance ; made to me I want to be poor," she said passionately, in a way that mystified simple Mrs Everest; "quite,, quite poor. Oh, you cannot understand how I hate the thought of i much money! How I should dread j being rich again!" I Such sentiments were strange enough to the ears of the woman who heard them, yet she never doubted Cecil's sincerity. There wa3 a look in the girl's pale face as she spoke this that testified to the honesty of her meaning. "You are very different from all the world, my dear," was all Cornelia Everest said to this, with a smile; and then she fell back on the thought of Michael's coming as the one comforting solution to all tie difficulties. Michael was to arrive the fourth day of Cecil's most unexpected visit to his mother's house. Much was revealed to this mother in the mere fact of her boy's abrupt announcement that he was leaving his work and coming to London, and her kincly heart sank a little as she told herself the secret that Michael had hidden from .her so well till now, for she saw no hope, no happiness for Michael in this love-dream of his. To her, Cecil, despite her loneliness and her selfelectod poverty, was still a being "apart from, and, in a sense, above hersalf and her family, a kind of princess—very sweet, but quite unattainable. There was about Cecil an unconscious air of wealth. She who found the little house so comforting, so dear, was, so Mrs Everest opined, completely out of place in its modest surroundings. "She will bo overruled; she cannct be permitted to carry out her determination absolutely," was what Michael's mother said, half-wistfull;, to herself, as she sat dwelling on tLu strange events that were occurring under her roof. "She knows so little of the world, poor child, and imagines herself strong enough to force her will against all circumstanced; but she is bound to be conc.uer:r\ Right is right, and right will be forced home. She has a full claim to that dead man's private fortune; for years she was called his child-, and at his death she inherited all; therefore, however much »he may struggle she will find herself a rich woman, after all, and so my poor Michael will have to suffer in vain." She shed some tears at this thought, for Michael's heart, she know, was no ordinary heart, and his love would be very, very different from the love most men gave to women. She saw back now into the past months with clear eyes, and she wondered how it was she had not guessed all that was working in Michael's mind in' the days when he lived within the precincts of Cecil Lacklyne's home. Cecil was, too, the mother confessed to herself, just' the verv woman who would inspire reverent love in a heart like Michael's. He had always been so different from others. U'\a sisters, bright, jolly girls, had laughed and flirtid, and danced their way through life when ever such opportunities had come in their path; but Michael had never flirted, never danced. He hail been a student from childhood, and a breadwinner when only a boy. Hj was not of ths little semi-suburban circle which was the only circle his mother and sister had. He had never been popular in this circle, some calling him tno grave, others too stuck up, and others, ayrain, much too clever. However, Michael had been so little in hi~3 home that matters of this kind, had never obtruded themselves, and when he had been at home lie had lived so entirely with his mother that outside influence had had no power to disturb them. Though Mrs Everest held these modest views about herself and her

• By Effle Adelaide B-owltin<ta,

Author oE "Hugh Gretton's Secret," "A Splendid !leu<," 'Br.ivo B.irbr.rx," "The Temptation of Mary Barr," "S. liur'Love Story," etc.

belongings, it wan goi;trally felt that the inmates of that little house at Maida Vale were distinctly superior to their poverty and their surroundings; yet Mrs Everest never spoke of family connections —hud, indeed, never enlightened even her own daughters on the question of their relations. Michael alone knew the truth that his dead father had been a source of sorrow and anguish to his mother, and that she had withdrawn herself from all intercourse with his lath and kin. Of her own fami'y, she spoke very rarely. So much her daughters knew : That she possessed a brother many years her senior, who was a great man; not a man of title or wealth, but a man great by achievemment of his brain and culture, a man whose name was widely known and revered. But there was no communication between herself and this brother. "Years ago he did me a great wrong; he was even cruel; but I know now," Mrs Everest had once confided to her son—she could say more to Michael than to any other creature in the world —"I know now that he did this cruel thing not oi his own free will. Mischief was made; it was his wife who came between us. She had always been jealous of me, and he adored her. To divide us, therefore, was easy." "And you never even hear of my uncle? You do not know whether he is alive or dead?" Michael had asked thoughtfully. "I have not heard from him for years. But he is not dead. Were he to die, his name would be in all the papers. Ido not even know where he is living now; but this much I know—he is not alone. His wife died long ago; but he adopted the son of her sister as his son. This young man takes your place in his life, Michael. He is the son of the man who, I am afraid I must eay, was my enemy, for he did me a great wrong." "It is sad that you cannot meet my uncle," Michael had said; "but if there was wrong done to you, little mother, then the seeking must come from the other side. My uncle little knows what a dear angel he is shutting out of his life," he added softly, as he kissed her; and after that they spoke ! but rarely of this absent uncle. Cornelia Everest had many a quiet, sad thought about her brother, nevertheless, and he wai never, more prominently in her mind than in these hours when she sat pondering over Michael's love-dream and his social position, and telling to herself the sorrowful truth that in the world's eyes such a position would be regarded as an inferior one. Possibly her heart reproached her that, had she sought her brother, she might have done better for her children in this respect; and yet, how could she seek one who had cast her off so entirely, without' wounding that pride that had sustained her through so much. Cecil was quick to note that her kind friend seemed troubled on this the day of linr son's expected arrival. "You will he glad to see Mr Everest again so soon," Cecil said gently and sympathetically,as she left Nini's room for a little while and went below to sit with Mrs Everest. "Oh, it seems new life to me when Michael is in the house, and it will be especially sweet to see him now, as I thought, when I said good-by to him the other day, it would be many weary months before I should sae him again." (To be Continued).