Mary's Great Mistake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3058, 1 December 1908, Page 2

Mary's Great Mistake.

By EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS. Author of Selina'a Love Story "An Inherited Feud," " Brave Barbara," "A Splendid Heart," etc, etc.

CHAPTER XXV.—Continued. "If you are not comfortable or happy with your Aunt Margaret, you can return here when you like. Only this much I must say, and I hope you willnot misunderstand me, lsobel, whenever you may elect to return, let me beg of you, my child. to try and live in good fellow-ship and amity with your cousin. Believe me, lsobel, you wrong Mary. She is your friend, your true friend, as indeed, could you have heard her speak last night, you would be tho first to admit." lsobel repressed her savage anger at hearing of her hated cousin's pity and kindness. A thousand bitter words trembled on her lips, but she did not speak them. The. game she had set herself to play would never be won by giving way to fury. She was the victim of an uncontrolled passion now. Had she not let herself lose all wisdom and restraint yesterday, she would not now be where she was, opsnly discarded by the man she had set herself to marry, made contemptible and ridiculous in the eyes of those whom she hated most of anvthing on earth. No. Hard as the effort might be, lsobel must suppress all the burning fury in her heart; must adopt a subdued and miserable ?ir so that she might better pave the way for her eventual triumph over Mary, when, after mature and careful thought, she should have devised a punishment equal in proportion to the i hate and revenge that now strove together in her tortured, mean heart. She looked such a young, childish thing, as she said good-by to her ancle, that a tear rose unbidden to tiis eyes, and down-stairs when he joined Mary, she sew that he was deeply troubled and upset. "I think you had better net, my darling," he answered, her gently, as Mary asked eagerly if she should go and see her cousin. "Do not meet her now. She is very unhappy. I am afraid she would rather not see you. By and by, perhaps, it will be easier to arrange, when she comes back from staying with Margaret Fielding. She has determined to go to her aunt on her own account, Mary. I tried to persuade her, but she would not be persuaded." "She is a clever little monkey," George Cartwright said to himself, instantly comprehending the fulness of Isobel's talent and power, as he saw the quiver and the shadow that passed over Mery's lovely face, "and she will maKe you suffer, you sweet thing!" he added, as he let his eyes rest on Mary fur a moment, " if by any means, fair or foul, she can manage to do it. This sorrowful, abnegating attitude is a clever trick; it will successfully cloud all her cousin's chance of future happiness. And, unless I am very much, mistaken. Miss Marston will reap a pretty good harvest out of that kind-hearted, good creature of an uncle. Verily the Scriptures are not without wisdom," was the doctor's cynical summing up, "when they state that the ungodly flourish exceedingly. It will he curious to watch Miss Isobel's further manoeuvres. Curious, that is," George Cartwright added to himself, "if they do not militate greatly against Mary, which I am very much afraid they will be intended to do. However, we shall see." And, shaking himself out of his thoughts, the doctor went to assist Mary into the carriage, and they were all driven'away to the station, to go thence to some big raiiroadjunction, and so on to Liverpool. lsobel watched them go from behind her blinds. Her uncle had told her briefly the reaion of this departure, and she had heard it in a dull, soullen way. Assuredly, for the moment her rival's sun was high in the heavens, and lsobel was keen to see that, if this journey was crowned with success, nothing then would stand between Mary and Paulnothing save herself, or something of her doing. She turned very pale at the thought; for the moment fate seemed too strong for her. Even the full vigor of her hate' dwindled and faded before the big difficulty, which the rush of unforseen circumstances was rolling and cramming together; but, amall, young as she was, lsobel had an iron will, and when that will was allied to the closest, most potent desires of her heart, strength came to her in an almost supernatural way, and keenness was rekindled in her shrewd brain. She was undoubtedly nonplussed for the moment, but she was not beaten; and in the end, if she worked cautiously, quietly and cunningly, she'must triumph. One thing she determined to do, and do at once. She would throw herself immediately on Lady Hungerford's sympathy. She had been careful to make a good friend of Paul's aunt.and she knew there was a hitter feeling toward her nephew on the part of the late baronet's widow. Lady Hungerford would be a powerful ally, lsobel determined, especially as the girl's scheme of revenge was laid in the simplest and most delicate of lies, and was one 1 which would be immensly helped by "Aunt Anne's" loud-voiced partisanship. Iscbel would need only to pose to Lady Hungerford as a martyr, and well She could not resist a smile as she pictured to herself the many unpleasant hours both Laurie and Paul would have to endure on her account. The role of an injured innocent was, in fact, the one lsobel intended to play. Though naturally her plans weie more or less chaotic, she did not int..nd to swerve from this nr ,r.:,. a | ; i ea _ Already, at the start, she found it more than a success with her uncle; and lsobel knew that, if there, was or.e person in the world

whom she could hurt and mold to the likeness she desired by means of this clever falsehood, that person was her cousin Mary, whose nature she had fathomed and played upon so successfully since the days they h3d been children together. "She may he as free as air. Paul Hungerford will not reap much benefit from that freedom." lsobel said to herself, between her even, white teeth and, after that, she prepared to take herself and her belongings to London, and to the small Bayswater house, where her father's sister lived. lsobel despised and disliked this father's sister, as she despised and disliked all her father's family, but she mesnt to make use of her aunt for the time being, although she did not intend to remain in Mrs Fielding's humble abode one hour longer then was absolutely necessary. Her letter posted to Lady Hungerford, her trunks full of the costly garments she had gathered together for her marriage, a telegram despatched to her aunt, lsobel left Thrapstone, and journeyed up to town feeling by no means the sad, humiliated individual that the generous, tender minds of Paul Hungerford, of Mary, and of her uncle, Henry Leicester, made of her. Far from it, indeed. All Isobel's dolllike prettiness had returned, and she was so far easy and satisfied in her mind with the commencement of her attack on her enemies, that she found herself perfectly free, when she was in the train, to engage in a sort of demure flirtation with a red-faced, callow-looking youth, clad in the very latast eccentricities of a sporting attire, who stared at the dainty little figure before him in admiration, and actually forbore to alight at his proper destination, simply and solely for the purpose of continuing I an hour longer in such pretty companionship. lsobel was perfectly aware of his admiration, and enjoyed it, though, of course, pretending entire indifference. But she was smarting still ao much from Paul's openly conveyed aversion, she had suffered so much through her vanity from her unsatisfactory and disagreeable engagement, that she grasped almost eagerly at this man's unconcealed admiration when another woman would have construed it into something like an impertinence rather than a source of pleasure and amusement. As she left the London station in a cab, with her trunks and her maid, lsobel was quick to see that her unknown admirer was actually following her in another cab, and that he was watching with eager eyes her entrance into the neat little house that was henceforth to be her home, until at least she had settled on another. (To be continued).