A SENSATIONAL CASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9163, 10 August 1908, Page 2

A SENSATIONAL CASE.

CHAPTER Vl.—Continued

"Do you play or sing?" asked Netekli, throwing open a little cottage piano that stood in one corner. "i do, after a fashion," answered Miss Collingham, "and that's the answer I must give to everything. I've never been taught anything thoroughly," she went on with a sigh. "\ou pee, one can get a smattering of everything cheaply enough; but to learn anything thoroughly one wants time, and care, and money." "And haven't you had the time and the care, if not the money, spent on you?" "I might have had—l shoull have had, if my mother had lived," answered the girl sadly: "And the money, too. I have money of my own—my mother's money—and my trustees make me a very good allowance. But it goes, it always has had to go, on " She stopped suddenly, and became crimson as Bhe remembered that she was dropping into, confidences which she had no right to make to a stranger. , Netelka was shrewd enough to guess the truth. The young girl's allowance was not spent on her education, and not on her dress, certainly; it was dribbled away in the expenses of a badly managed household when, easily enough, it had been coaxed out of her good-natured little hands. Netelka patted her hand and laughed at her. "'Never mind," she whispered; "I won't tell—in fact, I won't even understand uniess you like. But I mast make a condition—it is that you will come in and see me sometimes. . I'm very lonely here; and since you ' think 1 dress so beautifully, perhaps I could help you with your dress, too. I'm not at all a bad milliner, and perhaps I can be of use to you in some l way with your needlework, if you have much of it to do." J "Much of it!" echoed Miss Col-. lingr,am. "I should think I had ! l! have to mend all the children's . clothes —that is. when they < menJed at all. I don't know whether you understand how things have to ue done in a small household, Mrs Hilliard. I don't sup;o=e you do. But i the nurse has to wait at table and ' answer the door, and tiie cook has to fill nn her time tidyinc 'the room \ while mama fidgets about all over the house, hindering them in t.ieir wo.k , and papa complains that he doesn't get enough attention. I ought not to tell you of these things. I didn't mean to, and 1 didn't want to; but you've wheedled it all out of ine. I j think you're a sort of witch, Mrs J Hilliard." j "I confess I wanted to steal your confidence, dear, if I couldn't get it by fair means," said Netelka. "By the way, you haven't told me your name, your Christian name." To her surprise, Miss Collingham looked at her with an expression compounded of horror and of entreaty. "Don't—oh, please don't ask me!" Then, as Netelka looked unfeignedly astonished, the girl suddenly buried her face in her hand 3, laughing almost hysterically. "It's silly; yes, I know it's silly. But, oh, how would you like to be called Jemima?" The question was certainly a thunderbolt. Netelka sighed. "It is rather dreadful, dear. Why did they do it?" "Oh, it was a great-aunt, the one ray money came from. But if they'd ] given me my choice, which of course they couldn't, I would have said, 'Give the money to anybody you like, \and let me have a proper name!' There's no way of my changing a Christian' m me, is there?" she asked despondently. '"1 don't kno-v whether one could do it by act of Parliament," answered Netelka. "I think, dear, you'll have to be content with a c lange of surname only." But Mies Collingham started up melodramatically. "Never!" she said enphat cdlly. "I'm never going to get marred!" I

CHAPTER VII,

■> It was rot the usual empty cssertio.i of the girj of eighteen who has quite made up her mind not to die an oIJ maid.

Netelka remambered Mrs Collinghim's words, and the remark made by Willie about the broken fence. "Not," suggested she archly, in a very low, insinuating voice, "if Mr Waller wera to ask you?" The girl started —burst into tears. "Who—who told you? At least —of course they don't care at home; nobody caws; they only laugh at me. But, oh, Mrs Billiard, you won't tease me, will you? I've bean so miserable ever since!" "Poor child!" said Netelka, gently erasing thj down-bent head. "Tell ine dll about it." ' MUs Collingham raised her pretty, tear-atained face, an.l impulsively Hai'.i: " Yei, I will. I will tell you. You wnt Idugh m me; uusides, 1 don't care it' you do. He waj one of the .geritlam-ju who used to come down hero Ihf" ofleiicst before this house was shut up. And I know he was 4 v-uy Wdli off. of that lie was going to b 1 whe i hid father died, and that they madj him play/cards a;iJ bet. so that li/'ir:ignt 1 ihu hii money. Yej, yes, ii is true,'' sno went on, perceiving /a. suJJo i shrinking o;i Netelka's part, "i knu.v that they encouraged him to d ) everything that was wrong and foulhjh, so that llvjy might get hold of him ami ruin him. I— lex nee t they have pretty nearly done ic by this! time," she added bittsrly. "WH-'ri f int saw him, nearly eighteen months iwo, before the house was tout up, jij luolcid a wreck, and he seemed so miserable it made me cry to look at aim." "Yfiu have heard from him sinae?" asked Netelka.

By FLORENCE WARDEN. Author of " The Lady in Black," "An Infamous Fraud," "For Love of Jack," "A. Terrible Family," "The Kousa on the Marsh," etc. c'c.

Jem shook her head. "No," she said aadly. "It was I who cared so much for him, not he i for me. And 1 have remembered, you see, while he, of course, has forgotten." She was crying very quietly, and Ntt-lka did no quite know what to say to comfort; her, knowing, as she did, chat to persuade a lover of the unworthiness of loved one is no consolation. So they sat in silence, Jem in the crelonne-covered armchair facing the window, Netelka on the' white-skin hearth-rug in front of her, carressing the girl's hands and looking steadily at the fire. They had been in this position for some minutes when the door opened and the man servant came in with a salver. "Letters?" asked Netelka, in surprise. "A telegram, ma'am." Netelka sprang up, finding it difficult to repress the excitement she felt. The telegram was directed co "Billiard, The Firs, Wimbledon Common" and she tore it open, supposing it to be for her from her husband. But she was wrong. The message was evidently intended for her husband, and the words were these: "Come down to-night with Harrington and one or two more. GERALD WALLER." Netelka cast an anxious glance at the girl as she crushed the paper in her hand.

MR MOSELEY'S FRIENDS. Netekla felt that the blow which she had long been expecting had fallen at last. This Gerald Waller, the sender of the telegram, was one of the old set who had made "The Firs" too hot to hold them eighteen months ago. It was evident, from the fact that this message was addressed to Linley, that her busband was a party to Moseley's plan. In "the midst of her anger and consternation, she remembered, with a shivtr, that the pretty, innocent girl in frcnt of her was in love with this man Waller; and for a moment Netelka forgot Iter own anxieties in solicitude for Jem. A moment's reflection told her that it would be better not to let the girl know of the young man's visit just yet. Netalka thought she would ■ make his acquaintance first, and see what sort of man she had to deal with, for s-he had quite made up her mind that no harm should hap pen to the girl if her utmost effort* could prevent'it She dismissed Jem, therefore, telling her that her husband [was coming down that day, and that she must make preparations for him; and before she had been long alone another telegram, this time from Linley himself, confirmed the first: "Expect two to luncheon, and five to dinner, and to stay till Monday. Am bringing wine, fish, game and fruit. L NLEY." It was with a heavy heart that the young wife busied heiself with the.household duties entailed by this news; and when she saw, from the window of the library, a hansom drive up in which she recognised Harrington Moseley sitting beside Linley, there was no joy of welcome in her face as ehe went to meet her Knph-tnri (Tj be continued.)