Mary's Great Mistake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3036, 5 November 1908, Page 2

Mary's Great Mistake.

CHAPTER X.—Continued. .Armed with these resolutions, thoughts, and doubts, Laurie could not but be glad when she saw Paul ride off with his host to a meet near at hand, and saw, therefore, there was no harm to be feared during her absence at Whiterock. For Miss Marston had declined to join the party on its* visit to Dr. Cartwright's hobby. "I have a little headache, and I will stay here quietly, so that I may he well for the dance to-night," she said to Laurie; and indeed, she looked a little pale. She was feverishly eager for Laurie to be gone; her quick, sharp mind had scented the change in Paul's sister, and Isobel knew that in the next twenty-four hours lay her chance of success in the scheme she had made out for herself and her future. She had/'not left her room, but she had had conveyed to Paul's apartment, a little note written in penciJ, and evidently in great agitation. "Will you grant me five minutes' conversation?" she had written in this note. "I must speak to you alone. Oh, do not think too badly of me, I implore you. lam most unhappy this morning. Please tell me when and where I could see you quietly? There is something I must say to you. "ISOBEL M."

Paul had read this note with rain gled feelings of pain, regret, and a sensa of disappointment. He could not misunderstand Isobel's meaning; her impassioned words of the night before, the kiss on his hand, had told him all she wanted him to know, and % the knowledge oppressed and pained him. He would have preferred avoiding her, at least for the moment. It was impossible, however, to refuse her request. He sent her back two lines:

"Dear Miss Marston: I will be in he conservatory this atternoon at five, and shall be honoured to serve you in any way whatsoever. Faithfully yours, "PAUL HUNGERFORD."

He went down to breakfast, and was glad, and relieved almost unconsciously, that Isobel was not present. The events of last night had cornDined to thoroughly rouse him out of the apathy that had seemed to Laurie's troubled mind to be hemming him in for ever. He was more like his old self than he had been for weeks; and, as we have seen, the change, though it pleased his sister in one sense, pained her in another. It would have been hard for Paul to have described his own mental condition this morning. A sort of reckless unrest had seized him, a desire to rush away from memory and all its pangs. A fever burned in hi 3 brain, thrilled in his nerves, flushed his cheeks. He hailed the prospect of a hard day's riding with savage delight. The reaction- had set in violenty. "Take care of yourself, Paul," Laurie had cried involuntarily, as she went to the door to see him mount. She spoke unconsciously, eagerly. Paul's answer was a laugh, and he wheeled his horse round, and rode sharply out of sight. Isobel, at her window upstairs, saw him go, and she gripped her hands tightly together. I "Before to-night he shall belong to me," she said to herself quietly, yet with inward fierceness and intensity. She knew she ought to despise herself, but Isobf 1 had grown too familiar with her own contemptible actions to be troubled over her " present doings, » * * *** * * Laurie arrived at Oakdone very late. The journey from Whiterock was long and tedious, but she had had plenty of matter in her thoughts to keep her occupied. Mary's beautiful face mingled in with these thoughts, but they were naturally devoted for the most part to Paul and his future. It was past seven o'clock when she reached the house. "Congratulate me," she cried to her hostess, who was standing in the hall, evidently waiting to receive her. "I have found my locket. I am so sorry to be so late; I could not——t-" And then Laurie stopped, for, evidently, something had happened. \ She learned that something in a moment. Paul had been thrown; he had escaped marvellously, no serious damage done, no bones broken, but he was much bruised and shaken. He had been -carried home unconscious, and a doctor had attended him immediately. He was lying on the sofa in Mrs Massingham's own , boudoir. "But he is all right now, and quite happy," the kind-hearted hostess had ended, with a significant smile.

Laurie never noticed this; she lushed up the stairs madly, two at a time, her heart in her mouth, and ilew along the passage to the room indicated. Some one rose from the big chair as she entered, some one small and slender, with o'ltstretched arms and ruffled flaxen hair. It was Isobei. and she was clinging to Laurie before Paul's sister coud realise anything. "Oh, Laurie! Laurie! I am so ;glad you have come? he is much better now, and is sleeping; hut I was so frightened at first until he sjoke; and then then 1 forgot everything in my great happiness. 'Ob, Laurie, it seems too great, too ■wonderful. Kiss 'Tie, darling, wil 1 you not? and say 'ou < are glad. I am going to be y<ur .sister."

By EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS. Ati hor of fc'elina's Jjove Story "An Inherited Feud," " Brave Barbara," "A Splendid Heart," etc., etc.

CHAPTER Xl. ' AN ENGAGED COUPLE. It mattered very little' to Laurie how the astounding piece of news she received on her return from White'rock had been accomplished; it was ♦enough for her to realise that it was accomplished; and the only thing left for her to do now was to accept I the sitution, and make the best of the matter. All the doubts and thoughts that had forced themselves upon her so forcibly through the past night and day were now set at naught, at least as far as they were concerned in an active sense. But they were there*all the same, »and Laurie felt a distinct sense of depression and acute regret, and a vague wave of repugnance and rebellion, as she stood with Isobel's arms about her, and Isobel's triumphant happiness sounding in her ears. She kissed the girl, of course, and said something gentle and kind; but her tone was not warm, and it was an undoubted relief to her when Isobel moved away from her, and she was free to go across to the couch on which Paul lay. "He is asleep now," Isobe! had whispered; but Laurie knew, though his eyes were closed firmly, Paul was not sleeping. She bent over him tenderly, as a mother over a child, and pressed a light kiss on his brow. He made no sign, but she understood his silence, and, aftar another pause, she moved away from his side. "You will be late for dinner, Isobel," she said, speaking in a low voice, and glancing at the clock. "It is nearly half-past seven, and you are not dressed yet." "And you?" Isobel was still smiling, but the smile was mechanical, and she resented Laurie's manner exceedingly; it made her furiously angry. "I shall remain with Paul," Laurie answered.

She spoke in the most matter-of-facL way, taking off her hat and her jacket. Isobel aused. There was a deepened colour in each cheek.

"I think I will stay with you." she said, half lightly, half defiantly Laurie's answer was very prompt. "Oh, no, Isobel; you will want some dinner, and I can look after Paul; besides," with a faint smile, "you are the heroine of the evening, remember. You must not lose your congratulations, or deprive them of the pleasure of your company. Run along, and make yourself look your prettiest!"

Isobel stood irresolute, staring into the fire. There was a pathetic touch in her silence that appealed to Laurie.

"Poor little thing," she said to herself, involuntarily, and she stretched out her hand to Isobel.

It certainly was not a joyous betrothal, and she could see Isobel wanted to be so happy. "You shall come back again immediately afte»" dinner, \[sobel, dear," she said gently; "but lam sure you can be content, knowing I am with Paul; and I am equally sure he would like you to try at least to eat some dinner." Isobel let her hand rest in Laurie's, and returned the kiss given in a gentle, subdued manner; but her gentleness did not last when once she was outside the door. She walked very quickly to her own room, Jand clenched her hands, and her teeth firmly as she went. i (To be continued.)