A SENSATIONAL CASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9177, 28 August 1908, Page 2

A SENSATIONAL CASE.

By FLORENCE WARDEN,

Author of " The Lady in Black," "An Infamous Fraud," "For Love of Jack," "i Terrible Family," "The House on the Marsh," etc. etc.

CHAPTER XVll.—Continued. "I quite appreciate your kindness, and I thank you," said Netelka, rather ungratefully, as she bowed to him and left the room. She did not see Linley again until the following morning at breakfasttime, when his manner was no more genial than on the previous night. Netelka had had time to think over what she had seen and heard, and she resolved to make another attempt to win from Lady Kenslow some more palatable advice than she had received on the last occasion. Linley appoved her proposal to go up to town with so much heartiness that Netelka thought he would like to get rid of her by allowing her to remain with her aunt.

On leaving the house, she had to pass "The Maisonette" on her way to the station. Mrs Collingham's note had only distressed her, because it confirmed her own suspicions, and because it put an obstacle in the way of Gerard's meetings with Jem; she did not cara enough for the lady herself to be troubled by any airs she might choose to give hersellf, or by any view of "The Firs" that she might choose to take. Netelka, therefore, scarcely glanced at the fantastic windows of the little house as she went by, and she thought it better to take no notice of a loud rapping at one of the windows which she knew must Ibe the work of Jem. Before she reached the station, however, she became aware that she was being pursued by a flying figure. Having no wish to embroil Jem with her stepmother, and being, moreover, late for her own train, Netelka still paid no heed to the pursuer, but presently quickened her own pace as she saw that the signals were down for the Waterloo train. She just managed to jump, panting, into the nearest first-class compartment, when she heard a loud girlish | voice cry out, or, rather, scream: "Wait! oh, do wait!" "Come along, miss! Time's up!" cried the guard. The next moment Jem, gloveteS3, breathless, and all but hatless, jumped into Netelka's compartment and dropped, gasping, on the opposite saat. '<<l —J — i know you're disgusted; I know you don't want to see me -or any of us any more " she panted, as the train moved on. "But I couldn't help it. I felt 1 must see you, and so here I've come. And" I haven't even paid my fare, and I've only got a shilling!" She looked pathetically pretty, with her blue eyes full of tears, and fair hair shaken loose about her face, and a wistful expression, anout her little mouth. U "Never mind the fare,'" said Netelka, smiling. "Do you mean that you only came in to see me'."' "Yes* that's it," exclaimed Jem. "I've thought of such a lot of things, things I felt I must say to you. And now I've forgotten them all, even if I dared to say them." Netelka was moved by the girl's earnestness, and the tears came into her own eyes. Jem could not see this, however, for her eyes were cast down by this time, and she was struggling,with the shyness to which she was so painfully subject. "Of course, of course, you'll laugh at me, if you don't think me awfully impertinent," said Jem, turning scarlet as she approached the delicate matter. "But, when mama wrote that note, I felt as if I mast slap her." " Well, it was very good of you to feel like that," said Netelka, smiling. It! "Oh, no, it wasn't. It wasn't good at all. It was just natural in you to be good." Jem took no notice of this remark, which she thought to be a mere frivolous complimert* unworthy of attention.

"You didn't mind it! Say you didn't mind!" she cried earnestly, seizing Netelka's hand, and looking intently into her face. I "1 can truly say that I did not," j answered Netelka, "except that I j was afraid we might see no more of' you." "Did you mind thar, really? At J any rate, you can't have minded it as j mur.h as I do. I was frantic about it. Butjyou needn't mind mama; she's so impulsive; she'll do the craziest things on the spur of the moment, things she could tear her hair for afterward." ; "My dear, she was quite right." "No, she wasn't. Oh, I beg your pardon; of course, 1 know it's rude to contradict, but you mustn't mind the things I do and say, because I'm a wild Indian as far as proper behaviour is concerned. But how can it be right to throw over your friends when anything unpleasant happens to them?" gj Netelka looked at her, rather startled. Jem took the peat beside her and gently caressed onn of the lady's delicately gloved hands in her own uncovered fingers. "Oh, we know a good deal mure about it than you do, I'm sure," said Jem mysteriously. "You know the cabs and the broughams stand on our side, not yours. You couldn't see them for the trees. ( j "Cabs and broughams!" "Yes. Every night. We have known for a long time that it was just the same sort of people coming down (hat used to come down before. Papa says it's a club, and that very rich men and very well-known nrjn come. \ And mama hay known all about it, and has been quite ready to shut her eyes, on the chance of meeting some of the great people, as we mat young Lord Orpington at your house the other night. Only when it came to the disturbance there was last night she took it into her head that she ought certainly to stand upon her dignity. She'll be all right

again in a clay or two—in fact, she's coming round now, and she'll pretend to have forgotten all about her note, you see if she doesn't!" Now, Netelka, although she had not known all this before, was not surprised to hear it. She knew that a great many of the men whom HarringtonMoseley brought down to dine at "The Firs,'" and whom he called his "swell friends," belonged to a class which does not choose its intimates from men like the Jew, although it profits by their financial assistance. And she had often asked herself, when these gentlemen bade her good night, whether they were really going to catch the last train to town, as they pretended, or whether they were going to join other "friends of Harrington Moseley's upstairs. She had remained silent for some moments, when Jem's voice, speaking very softly, roused her from the abstraction into which she had fallen. "Why do you look like that, if you don't mind? "I do mind; I mind very much — chiefly on your account." "Mine'" "Yes, yours and Gerard Waller's. You won't be able to see so much of each other." Jem laughed rather mockingly. "He won't care, as long as he can see—some one else!" Bhe said, rather timidly. "Do you mean me, child?" "Of course I do. It's plain enough that he doesn't trouble his head much about anybody else. It's quite natural, and I don't mind, because it's you, and you won't do him any harm, only good. You see, you can keep him away from gambling and the things that hurt him. I couldn't. Therefore, I'm not jealous." "You mean that you've got tired of him?" "No. I don't mean that at all. I like him just as much as ever. And, if you were a wicked coquette, I should be jealous. But you are not, and I love you, and those are reasons enough for me." Netelka kissed her. "You're an odd girl," she said, "and I don't quite know what to make of you. And now what am Ito do with you when we get to Waterloo? Shall I send you back, or what?" "I wish you could take me with you wherever you're going," said Jem wistfully. "Mama is very cross to-day, and I should be so glad to be out of the way for a little while." "But what would she say if she knew that you were with me?" Jem chuckled. "She'd be delighted. It would bridge over the way to making it up after her disagreeable note." ' But Netelka thought this was too optimistic a view to take, and-when they got out at Waterloo she was still wondering what argument she could use to induce Jem to return home. Jem was at that period of life when irresolution alternates with fits of perverse obstinacy, and it was one of the obstinate fits that was on her now. (To be continued.)