HER SILENCE JUSTIFIED.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 3179, 3 May 1909, Page 2

HER SILENCE JUSTIFIED.

CHAPTER ll.—Continued. "Yes, yes, one drops the Haydon sometimes, of course,'" interposed Laurence hastily. "One wouldn't care to ke known everywht re as the son of an Indian hero!" "And yet it is a name to be proud of; and you have a father, Lawrence who deserves ——" "For Heaven's sake, Stuart, don't. begin to preach! All the pride ami the honour in tha world won't htlp me out of the biggest mes3 a fellow ever was in!" Wilfred Stuart was silent. The young men had been at school to gether. and grown sincerely attached to each other; nor when they parted—the one to read for the church, the other to spend lavishly the priceless allowance he received through his father's lawyers—did the liking die away; yet ever year found a wider gulf between the lives they led, and the purer principles of* Wilrfed were utterly at variance with the reckless dissipation into which his friend had plunged "You have been at the cottage? Y/ou have ?§?n "^ But here Laurence Haydon stopped in considerable embarrassment. "If by the cottage you mean the one you are occupying," said Wilfred gravely, "I have not; nor have I entered the village on the cliff at all. I heard at the place where I sltpt that a gentleman whose description answered to yours had taken furnished apartments near here, and I came on this morning, hoping to find you, and prevail on you to return with me to London. General Haydon would feel deeply hurt if his son were not there to receive him." "Of course, I must go buck with you," retorted Lawrence irritably. "Have I any option? Can I help myself? Up to my neck in debt a3 1 am, how dare I affront my father?" Wilfred Stuart shrugged his shoulders slightly. Ever since they had been acquainted, Lawrence had always contrived to exceed the large sums'he received from the too lib* ral general. Again and again he had made a clean breast of it, been severely lectured, and forgiven. Would not the same process be repeated as before? "I don't suppose General Haydon will be inexorable this time, say or do what you may," observed the visitor dryly. But Laurence ground his heel into the shingle with the gloomy air of a man whose troubles are worse than monetary ones. "He never refuses to open his purse-strings for me, but he has his peculiarities." "Yes." said Wilfred. For a few moments Lawrence was on the point of telling all—ot avowing his marriage, and asking advice as to the best, way of acknowledging it to hi 3 father; but, he lacked the courage. He was alread} beginning to think that he had done a very foolish thing, and this was the result. "Don't beat about the bush with me, and pretend not to know what I mean!" he cried angrily. "Of course, you have heard that lam not here alone, and formed your own opinions of the folly 1 have committed." "I don't wish to intrude those opinions upon you," was the quiet reply. "Nor did I come here to preach to you on the cruelty—yes, it is cruelty—of amusing yourself for a fewjJays or weeks at the expense of"b"6me hapless rustic. I would rather confine mjßilf to entreating you to hasten and meet your father."*

"Yes," said Lawrence irresolutely, "I must go. I would not willingly vex the dear old dad. He has been the best of fathers tc me; but—but what am Ito do with Daisy? I must find tome excuse f"r running away from her." "Did she come here with you willingly?" asked Mr Stuart, with a ring of contempt in his tones. "If so, she can have no claim on you fhat money will not settle." "But that is the identical commodity I don't possess. Goodness only knows how it slips away—in toys and trifles, I suppose. My own wants are not many, and, :f we spent a generous sum in Switzerland. i have lived econom'callyever since." "You are welcor e to the contents of my purse ;2 but 1 have only a fivspound note besides a couble of sovereigns." "Nonsense, (Stuart—l*ll not rob you. I «an pay : my own way. I only wanted tof console the forlorn one with a few trinkiets. She will have to wait till I can get a goodsized cheque from my father, and then " "One moment, Lawrence. Call me straitlaced if you will, but, unless this person were your wife, how could you so pervert your father's bounty? He comes to you all joy and affection, willing to overlook any imprudences you may have committed, j but not to bestow on you the weath he has earned in has glorious career that you may fling it into the lap of a worthless woman." "But supposing I have promised to marry her?" queried Laruence, avoiding his friend's eyes and staring out to sea. l' w Wilfred Stuart smiled incredulously. "You done many foolish deeds in friend Laurie, but not one so mad as this would be." "You'are right, it would be madness. I have often thought so, and, yet—and yet J am afraid she does look upon me as her husbr.nd-elect." "Then you are behaving like an idiot as well as a scoundrel," was the indignant reply; "for you know as well as Ido that your father would never forgive such a marriage,, and that entirely dependent 6& 11 enrov a—cTOgroT-'«3a: umbo anrega «w%ii 'He ne?d not know. A man asks too much of bis son if he expects to be kept informed of all his domestic amTpeirc-jits." | Wilfred Stuart curled his lip.

BY HENRIETTA 13. KUTEVEN. Author of " His Second L)ve,*' " Corydon's Inf ttuation," " Daring Doia," " An Unlucky Legacy/' Etc., Etc

"Then don't ask me to congratulate you on an engagement that would" involve keeping your wife in hiding and deceiving the kindest and most unsuspecting of fathers. But it is no business of mine; my errand is at an end, and I'll walk back to the inn, dine there, and then take the next train lo Exeter." "Stay, Wilfred: don't leave me in such a quandary. Of course, I must go with you to town, and Daisy must stay here til) I can—ahem!— till I can snake her off. I'm not so bad as you think me. I've seen the folly of tha connection for some time past; but she is such a pretty, loving little thing that—that " But here Mr Stuart broke in impetuously. "I'd rather not hear any more. Frankly, Laurence, it makes me feel ashamed of you—living under a false name, and leading a too credulous young creature to believe that you intend to make her your wife—by heavens! it's brutal—it's horrible ! Others may be unprincipled, but I hoped better things of you." He would have walked" away, but Laurence Haydon, after a mental Struggle* in which the fiend that tempted him gained the mastery, followed his friend, and detained him. "Don't lose your temper, old chum. You are right and I am wrong, as usual, and, having confessed this much to my mentor, I'll put myself under your guidance. I would not lose my father's favour for the kisses of half-a-dozen Daisies. In fact. I cannot afford to do so." Wilfred Stuart's look was eloquent enough to make him wince. "Yes, I know how this sounds—s lush, horribly selfish—but when a fellow is over head and ears in debt, cling to the hand that will help him. As soon as lam clear, I'll turn over a new leaf—one out of your book—Eee if I don't." "Then you will go to London with me?" asked Mr Stuart, wisely ignoring vows he had heard but too often. "Yes; but I must first run to my bdgings to pack a satchel." "Better nut. You can write yjur adieus with far less pain than you can say them." "Why, so I could, perhaps. Your advice " But before Laurence Haydon there arose a vision of Daisy, armed with the certificate of her marriage, following him to the presence of his father, and there proving that she was not the silly, unworthy creature he was permitting Mr Stuart to believe her. "I must go to my .lodgings!" he cried hurriedly. "There are papers, letters, that I cannot leave behind. I wiil not see Daisy if I can possibly avoid her." And this he though to do by walking with this friend along the beach for half-a-mile or so to where another precipitous rocky staircase led to the summit of the cliffs, and he ccould gain Mrs Wakely's cottage by a more circuitous route. [to be continued.]