Mary's Great Mistake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3048, 19 November 1908, Page 2

Mary's Great Mistake.

By EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS. Author of Selinas Love S':ory "An Inherited Feud," " Brave Barbara," "A Splendid Heart," etc., etc

CHAPTER XVlll.—Continued

lsobel had spoken truly when she had written to Mary that her name was never mentioned in her uncle's household, and that even her pictures had been banished from their place in the old rooms. But none knew better than lsobel how Henry Lei-es-ter's heart and soul yearned for the banished girl; none knew better than she that it needed but a word, a touch, to move the quiet acquiescence of grief into action, and into hope. Had she been anything but what she was, lsobel Marston would not have been satisfied until she had brought Mary and her uncle together once again, and have given balm and comfort to both their wounded hearts. But Isobel's mission was not to heal the breach; she widened it by every means in her power; and even now, when she was on the eve of making a new career for herself, when there was no real need to trouble her head as to her uncle's distribution of his property, the desire to keep Mary outside her old life, away from her home, alone in her misery, was as keen as it had ever been. Isobel's nature was respective, once she had conceived a feeling she was faithful to it, let it be good or bad; her hatred and jealousy of Mary had come early into her life, and had grown, and strengthened, as the years passed, till it became almost a dominant part of herself, and of her thoughts. * < Could she only have imagined the state of affairs at this present moment, she would have been even less satisfied, and complacent, than she was. However, she bailed the news of Laurie's departure with delight, and gave herself up to the business of her clothes with zest. She had the more leisure to do this because of Paul's absence also. To Lady Hungerford's great surprise, most freely expressed to her sister-in-law, Lady Emily, who, of course, was not equal to a controversy on the subject, Paul had suddenly announced his intention of going abroad for a few weeks, and, before Lady Hungerford had time to make any personal derr.ocstrance he wis gOne"/ "1 think it is a most extraordinary thing!" Lady Hungerford declared to poor Lady Emily, who, without understanding, or knowing anything, was still conscious of a vague something in the atmosphej/e that was of a disturbing nature./ "And, really, Emily, I cannot say" that your children show much consideration for you, both of them rushir j* off, and leaving you alone in thist fashion. That Laurie should elect to go to the Massingham's just now is only what one expects, from Laurie, but that Paul should rush-off to Paris, in this heat, too." lsobel, who was present at this moment, broke in with her prettiest, most demure, manner. "Paul has gone on an errand for me," she said, uttering the lie quite glibly, and smiling up into Lady Hungerford's irate face, looking as much like a bi? doll as it was possible for a human being to ■ look. "You must not scold him, please, Aunt Anne, because he did not really want to go, only I persuaded him." And then lsobel turned to Lady Emily: "I thought he would enjoy a little holiday before settling down into sober married life." "Holiday! fiddlesticks!" ejaculated Lady Hungerford, not in the least appeased. Lady. Emily smiled into Isobel's eyes, but she felt, in the same vague way, ' that all was not quite as it should have been, although she answered lsobel in her sweet, gentle way, and assured her she was right, and very kind. So a week went by, a week nearer to the marriage that seemed to lsobel to be the consummation of everything she most desired, or could desire. The marriage that to Laurie was the knell of her brother's future peace and happiness, and to Paul himself a dream of all that was unpleasant, despicable and incomprehensibly wrong.

CHAPTER XIX

DOCTOR CARTWRIGHT AS A PEACEMAKER.

It was very pleasant at Oakdene; the old gardens seemed alive with colour, every breath of be summer breeze was laden with the fragrance of the myriad flowers that sudded the banks and terraces. Laurie sat in one of the big wicker chairs; she had her arms crossed over her bosom, and her hat pulled low over her eyes. A week had gone by, a week, in which she had learned to love Mary Ballaston with something of the same love and devotion she lavished on her mother and on Paul. There had been long talks between them many a time during this week that had gone, and, and every quality in Mary's proud, superior character, every sourd of her voice, every graceful gesture of her beautiful form, won its way more, surely into Laurie's troubled heart. They talked of Paul in these moments; it was almost a joy to Mary to speak of all his kindness to her in the past, the kindness she was so anxious to requite now, if possible, while a pleasure equally great was to sit and hear his sister speak of his thousand noble acts and thoughts, no less noble because they had been performed, maybe, for some humble purpose, in the quietest of quiet ways. They talked of Colonel Leicester. Laurie heard the whole ,»rrv-f Mary's mistaken marriage j'r >r- ' ? k-'iTs own lips, f he =hivered in uiii.-yjn with Mary over the

humiliation and suffering that had succeeded that mistake. They had sat with clasped hands as the story was told, and Laurie, as she listened, felt a new sense got' disgust and indignation rise up within hzr for the girl who was so soon to become Paul's wife. They did not talk of lsobel. Their lips were sealed on this subject, but from different causes. Laurie knew only too well the love that lived in Paul's heart for Mary, but she had no knowledge of how great a love was torturing poor Mary now for the m<m whom lsobel was to marry. The subject of the marriage, indeed, never arose between them. When they talked, it was of the past, never of the future; and, though that future was so dark and gloomy to them both, there was a happiness in being together, and finding comfort in each other's society, a pleasure that no pain could spoil or cloud. "It seems as if we had known each other all our lives, not merely one short, little week," Mary said one morning, when seven days had gone by, and found their friendship strengthened into love. "I never wished for a sister, before," Laurie made answer'to this. When Mary had left her to flit across the lawn back to her duties in the sick-room, Laurie sat down in the garden chair, and gave herself up to her thoughts. She little knew how those last sweet words of hers had hurt Mary, they conveyed so much to our heroine. They spoke out so clearly, what Mary had already feared, that Laurie had no liking for lsobel; no sympathy in her brother's marriage; and she, knowing lsobel too well, felt anew the pain and doubt that had come when she first heard of Paul's betrothal to her cousin. "If he should be made unhappy by her! He —he does not love her, I know," Mary said to herself, and she coloured hotly at the thought, while her heart thrilled even in all its trouble. "Still, if the woman he is to marry were any other, or if lsobel could be true to the good that must ba in her; but I dread the future, and Laurie dreads it, too, alas! That means that lsobel is not changed, and that Laurie sees no happiness in the marriage. Oh! how unfortunate it is that pne may not sire fob out one's hands, pd °huwer blessings on thoߣ we love!" Mary's beautiful lips quivered a little with emotion. "If I might only give him happiness, I should be content, even thuugh I tas;ed nothing but sorrow all the rest of my days!" Laurie watched Mary's figure enter the big doorway, then she closed her eyes, and began once again the old weary task of thinking and thinking, and thinking. How long she sat like this, she could not have told, but, all at once, a little creaking noise aroused her, and, lifting her eyelids, she beheld a chair pulled just in front of her, with some one seated comfortably in it. That some one was George Cartwright. "Since when have you taken to sleeping in the mornings, may I ask'.'" he inquired, in his most matter-of-fact way, as she was silent at first, from sheer astonishment. (To be continued). Chambt'i-laiu's. Colic, Cholera and Diairhoea Remedy is the most successful medicine in the world for bowel complaints both for adults and children. Pleasant and safe to take prompt, in its action, and effectual in results. For sale chem nd storekeepers.