A SENSATIONAL CASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9164, 12 August 1908, Page 2

A SENSATIONAL CASE.

CHAPTER Vll.—Continued. "But there's a wife—he's got a wife, it appears; no end of a snrew, by what I can make out. It's she we've got to be so careful about. S.>me old shrew he's married for her money, 1 suppose." "Well, we'll kill her off for him, if he behaves himself," said another voice. "In the meantime you must be civil to the old lady, Waller." "Oh, I'll be civil to thu old hag," answered the pleasant voice again. Netelka held her breath. She was amazed at the audacity of these creatures. In the midst of the anxiety and annoyance she was suffering a ray cf amusement flashed into her mind at the surprise that was in store for them. An old hag, an old shrew, was she? She smiled to herself; and, having found the handle of the door, and turning it quickly, she opentd the door and! walked in among them. A thunderbolt—a bombshell—an earthquake; these things, any of them, might have surprised the group in the Bmoking-room, but not so greatly as did the appearance of the | lady. She had expected to make J some impression by virtue of the j uidenialle good looks which gave ] her prestige wherever she went. But her coquetry was more than satisfied by the effect of her sudden appearance. Out of the three young men who formed the gioup, two had been sitting, or rather lounging, in full view of the door, each with a cigarette between his lips and a hidf-emptied glass within easy reach. These two sprang up, speechless, on her entrance, looking at her as if she were a messenger from another world. One of these men was over six feet high, broad *nd muscular - looking, with a young face, which betrayed no superfluity of brains in its possessor. The second was shorter, a spare and rather mean-boking young fellow, who appeared to have no marked individuality. The third member of the party was stretched on the sofa with his face to the wall, and all that could be of him was a head of curly fair hair. This one, Netelka guessed at once, was Gerard Waller. "What's the matter with you fellows?" he lazily asked, noting \ the sudden silence and not troubling-him-self to turn round. Stili there was a moment's priusr, and thea Netelka uttered a little laugh. The man on the sofa turned his head. Then, slowly, without removing his gaze from the lady's face, he got up and bowed. Netelka, having noted the effect of her entrance, used her opportunity to the utmost, and said, with a chilling little bend of the head and a rather supercilious smile: "Pray, don't let me disturb you. I am only the old lady you've got to be civil to!" And tranquilly unwinding her shawl and putting it over one arm, she swept through the room into the house quite conscious that she had bereft the three guests of Mr Moseley of every sense but that of overpowering astonishment. CHAPTER VIII.

NETELKA AS AN AUTOCRAT. Netelka went on her way with as much surprise in her heart as she had left behind her among the occupants of the smoking-room. This Gerard Waller, against whom ehe had begun by conceiving a violent prejudice, had proved to be no such scowl- \ ing, dark-faced villain as she had imagined him, but a decidedly pre possessing person. Under the middle height, of slender and boyish figure, wUh a l far? of which the V V" ." ".""-!' i'... , , '. -f piiiicipal leannco v*eie a pan >.• i large light-blue eyes, a short nose, 1 and a humorous mouth; Gerard looked j - even younger than his years'. Netolka ' at once decided that, of the threa y.vung men she had to deal with, he j was the most striking personality; j and she knew- that, if she were going to ftxke the stand she intended, it was upon Gerard that she must first try her hand. She so much interested to find the enemy less repellnnt than sl.e had expected, that when she came down, dressed for dinner, into the drawingroom, her face had lost the worried, anxious look which it it had worn since the trial. She had made up hir mind to make an active protest ths.t very night against the gambling, for which she was sure the company had assembled. And if Linley would not give her an opportunity of making it t:> him, she would make it to the whole assembly. , The decision had given a litt • extra colour en her cnecks, a little m r; Iril iancy than usual to her black eyes. Sh3 found the whole party—fir her husband arid Mjseley hud now returned—waiting for her in the long, pleasant ioo ii, where deep window-J sen is an.l real cozy corners (not the j -olem ujh hterer's mit-mmed imitations) invited to enjoyment of book r tetj-a-tete. The young men had all dorinel evening dress in her honour, and all wore that look of excited expectancy which is the proper tribut3 to thi arrival of a beautiful i woman. There was a lull in the talk, and all heads were turned in her direction as sha entered, looking htr, very be3t in black velvet, with large sleeves of orange-coloured silk, veiled with black lace. Gerard, who was the nearest to the door, offered her a chair. But she would nut sit, being conscious, perhaps, that she looked more regal and therefore more likely to create the impression she desired with her train sweeping the ground as she moved. Mr Moselcy could not conceal his terribly evident admiration. Netelka

By FLORENCE WARREN. At thor o: " The Latly in Black," "An Infamous Fnui.i ' "For Love of Jack," "A Terrible Family," "The House on the Marsh," etc. e'c.

felt that she wished that he would not smile so tsmch as he almost ran forward and t«-'d her that she looked like a queen. "And that !■? exactly what I intend to Ik\" said Netelka significantly, letting- her ey s rest for a moment on his smirking face with great gravity. "Audi mean to rule with a sceptre of iron.". Then she caught Gerard Waller's light-blue eyes fixed upon her. He had his hands still on the back of the high chair he had ottered her. "It's nut a good beginning," said he, "to refuse your throne." "Why not? Doesn't it show a gracious modesty, and a wish to enjoy myself amiably among my subjects?" "I didn't see it in that light," said Waller,. "It looked to me too much like independence. And independence in a sovereign in these radical days is not to be tolerated for a moment. In fact, you must understand, your majesty, that you're a queen only as long as your subjects please; that ;we will bow and kiss your hand most loyally as long as you do just what wo choose; but that the moment you do the smallest thing we don't like, it's all up with your sovereignty." Netelka laughed, and so did the others, who were listening. They were all conscious, perhaps, that there wus a little more than mere idle chatter to fill up the time in the combat of wits. Indeed, Netelka's retort to her representative subject made her husband frown.

"Perhaps, I shall risk my crown in one grand coup," said she, "and see whether there is not more loyalty latent in my people than they themselves imagine." "Count upon one sword!" cried Waller, as he sprang to the hearthrug, snatched up the brass poker, which was never meant to poke, and held it above his head with a theatrical air.

At this Arthur Sainsbury, a giant of six feet three, with boisterous manners, a laugh which could be heard in the next county, and the intelligence of an infant, snatched up the hearth-broom, .and ranged himself by the side of his friend. "Count upon two!" roared throwing into the fireplace the cigarette which was his distinguishing badge. "Sam, get out of the way, unless you mean to enlist, too!"

Thes3 last words were addressed to the third member of the trio, a hollow-chested, languid little person, with lack-lustre eyes and lack-lustre wits, who was leaning against the mantel in an attitude which he believed to be as effective as he knew it to be uncomfortable. Before Sam Teale could make up his mind how best to get out of the difficulty which his uproarious friend had forced upon him, Arthur Sainsbury seized him by the shoulders in the manner of a clumsy Newfoundland puppy, who knocks down the master he wishes to caress, and thrust the tongs upon his unwilling friend. "Confound your tomfoolery 1" growled Sam, furious. "Don't you ever mean to grow up, you young idiot?" Sainsbury answered with a roar of laughter. He was a perfect specimen of the drawing-room or upper middle-class young man who delights in noise and rough play, and honestly behoves that it is only fogies of the most oppressive kind who do not share his own taste for the simple recreations of violent movements and deafening noise. (To be continued.)