Mary's Great Mistake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3037, 6 November 1908, Page 2

Mary's Great Mistake.

CHAPTER Xl.—Continued. "If I have to stand her interference now, I won't stand it very long. I have put up with her quite long enough. lam a little tired of Miss Laurie's dictatorial ways, and I shall be very glad to let her see that 1 am not quite the silly little fool I have pretended, to be." Isobel laughed a hard, short laugh when she was alone in her room. "It will be rather fun to make Laurie open her eyes. I fancy I shall he able to astonish her a little bit. I wonder what has changed her to me? Yesterday she was all for me, to-day she seems quite different. It must have been something Paul was telling her last night, when they sat together in the conservatory. I wonder " and then Isobel shrugged her shoulders. "Bah! why need I wonder? The game is won. lam to be Paul Hungerfojrd's wife. I don't think I need let myself trouble over anything more. If i-here is a ghost of in the past !" Isobel smiled a thin, hard smile, as she Etood before her mirror, making a hasty toilet for dinner —"well, 1 think I am equal to tackling any number of ghosts. Paul's past is not of great interest to me now; it was, of course, when there was dan-, ger of its standing up in my path, and spoiling my future; but ' now " and again she shrugged her shoulders, and smiled this time with satisfaction, as she remembered the two hastily written notes she had despatched by the letterbag, and which were by this time well on their wiy to their respective destinations; one to her uncle, at Thrapstone Court, and the other to her friend, Lady Hungerford, containing the brief notification of her engagement. She had certainly lost no time

"I must write to my dear uncle at once—at once. I never have a secret from him," she had said to Mrs Massingham, when she had been alone with that kind-hearted lady, after Paul had been carried upstairs, absolutely unconscious of all that had happened, and was happening about him, and Mrs Massingham had kissed the pretty flushed face, and applauded the childishly spoken words of love and remembrance.

"Quite right, my dear, quite right," she bad answered warmly, and then she had patted Isobel's soft flaxen hair. "Why, it is all a romance, just like a love story. It makes me feel young again. Poor little thing,, you are trembling, and quite pale; but cheer up. Paul is all right, to-morrow he will be himself again, and your happiness will be unclouded."

Isobel had clasped her hands together. "Oh! I hope so. I hope so. Oh! Mrs Massingham, if you could only know what I suffered when I saw him lying on the wet grass, his face so still and so white, and, and—

Mrs Massingham had held the girl's trembling form in her motherly arms.

"There, dear, don't think about it; only think of the sunshine that lies ahead, and be thankful that it was only a little accident; and you ought to be so glad, too, that it was you who should have been so strangely sent to his rescue. Why, as I said just now, it is like a love story, and you are just as pretty as any little heroine need wish to be."

Mrs Massingham was, indeed, delighted at the happy termination to what might have been a very sad matter. She had immediately lost her heart to Isobel Marston's dainty, babyish prettiness, and Paul Hungerford had, always been a favourite with her. They made a charming couple, she declared.

"But you wore very sly, you two," she had said to Isobel. "This had taken me quite by surprise, • and I am » rare hand at scenting out a romance; I expect I know what it all was, and why Paul looked • so dreadfully glum last night; we all noticed that he seemed out of spirits. I suppose you had been teasing him, poor fellow, and making him unhappy, and then you were very nearly punished by losing him to-day. Wasn't that it, eh 9 "

Isobel h3d buried her face on Mrs Massingham's ample bosom. She did not assent fo, or deny, this story; all she did was to whisper shyly:

"Please don't say anything, Mrs Massingham. I don't mind you; for, though, I have only just known you, I —l feel somehow as though you were my friend already, but—but the others—you understand." Of course, Mrs Massingham understood, and undertook to make no mention of the fictitious story her own imaginations had invented, and Tsobel's manner, rather tha* words, had so emphatically confirmed. No one knew exactly how Miss Marston and Mr Hungerford had become engaged, but that they were engaged, and also that they were devotedly attached to one another, was known all over the house in a very short time after this.

CHAPTER XII. A WOMAN'S ARTFUL WAY. As Isobel sat at the dinner-table, she cuuld not but congratulate herself on her own cleverness, and on the undoubted fact that fate had been extraordinarily ki' d to her. She had spent a very long morning in her mom. Nearly every other pyeat had accompanied Mra Massi, gham on the visit to the Whiterock Convalescent Home. Isobel, pleading a headache, did not even go down to luncheon; she sat reading, by her fire, and preparing over and over again her plan of action with i Paul in her approaching interview.

As luncheon pas33d, and the hours

By EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS. Au her of Se'» na's Loye Story "Ail Inherited Feud," " Brave Barbara," "A Splendid Heart," etc., etc.

drew nearer, she suddenly felt a fever of impatience seize her; was impossible to wait in the house till five o'clock came; she would eo out. She hastily put on her pretty grey walking-attire, and went downstairs. She had no notion which way she should go, or where any particular path would lead her. It was just chiming a quarter to four; she had, therefore, an hour and a-quarter to while away somehow. That Paul would keep strictly to the appointment, she knew most certainly. She had learned enough of his character to be sure of that; but how he would meet her, and what he would say, was something, of course, Isobel could not possibly know. A chance word spoken between a groom and another servant decided the girl suddenly which way to choose for her walk. It was a little thing, but great events hung upon it. "Look out for Mr Hungerford; he's coming straight back here," the groom was shouting to a sort of stable help. "Be ready to take the mare; I heard him say he should ride across Farmer Lowe's fields, as it was the shortest cut. He's in a hurry, so don't you go away; just stick here, and wait till he comes, and mind y6u see " And here followed a string of orders concerning the mare, evident ly a valuable inmate of Mr Massingham's stables. Isobel's colour rose, and her eyes glistened. "It I could manage to meet him coming back," she said to herself, "that would be much better, more informal, and not so difficult as a set interview; besides, we should not be interrupted, and we could be together longer, and, besides, I could make a more distinctive impression." And a hundred different little artistic touches flashed through the girl's sharp mind. "Which is the way to Farmer Lowe's fields?" she inquired of a passing gardener. Isobel hastened on after having been directed by the man.

"I will reconnoiter," she said to ( herself; "and, if I think it will be safe to ventue in the time, I will go as far as I can; if Ido not see him, I can turn back."

The fields in question were seen before her. She sent her keen eyes quickly around, and then she gave a sharp sigh, for, far ahead, but coming toward her at a gallop, was a horse and rider taking the hedges and ditches in fine style. Isobel couJd ride fairly well, and she could not refuse a passing tribute of admiration to Paul's skill. She walked slowly along a trodden pathway. Paul was flying nearer and nearer at each moment. She could distinguish his features now, and could hear the sound of the galloping hoofs on the soft earth. She quickened her step. She noted that he did not see her. Another moment, and he would be gone, flown past like a breath of wind, and then she would have to tramp back as quickly as she could. She must attract his attention somehow. She could not afford to lose such an opportunity. (To be continued.)

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