HER SILENCE JUSTIFIED.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 3180, 4 May 1909, Page 2

HER SILENCE JUSTIFIED.

CHAPTER 11. -Continued. By this time Daisy would be on her way to the beach once more, and he could make his preparations for departure without being distressed by her tears or inquiries. "She is such a dear little thing that it is hard to part with her!" he repeated, as he stole soitly upstairs unseen by Mrs Wakely, who -was busy with her bread. He cud not see how ne could have acted differently; but he had ruined himself by this foolish marriage-yes, ruined himself. Had his father remained, in India, how easi y the secret could have been kept'.—but now he must inevitably choose Detween the wife whose charms were beginning to pall, and the wealthy parent who could. satisfy his creditors and supply him with all he wanted. It was not fair towards the poor little girl, but it was the most prudent course he could adopt, and she must submit.

Hovln* cautiously about the room, he put together the few things he required; then he wrote a few lines with a pencil, merely apprising Daisy that business ailed him away, and she should h«r from him shortly, and pinned it to her toilet cushion. He dared not atay to look round at the manv tokens of happier moments, or to dwell on what he was doing, lest his heart should fail him and yet some evil genius prompted him to possess himseli ol the "marriage lines" lest she should make use of them to his disadvantage. Guiltily ha strode to the table on which generally stood the handsome desk that had been one of his presents to his bride. But it was not there: she must have carried it to the sitting-room below. And thither he went, eager to obtain what he sought before she could return, or Mrs Wakely discover that he was in the house. . .. . The first thing he caught sight ot in the cool, shady parlor was the' desk; but on the sofa beside it lay D&I3V There was no retreating. She must have seen him enter, and hating, despising himself the while he stepped toward her. She had wrapned a shawl around her as if she were~cold, and was shading her eyes from what little light the closed blinds admitted with her hand. "Aren't you well, child?" he be-, gan desperately. "That's unfortunate, for I am called away in a great hurry but you'll be good, and not fret for me. I"il write tomorrow or the next day. and send you some money as soon as I get a remittance. Good-bye, good-bye. A* she made no answer ne drew nearer. Her eyes were closed. Tired with her walk, she must be sloping. Welt, it was better so. She would find his note when she awoke, and must content herself by looking forward *o his return. But the desk stood so conveniently handy! Having that certificate in his own pocketbook might save him so much annoyance, he yielded to the temptation. ' , , .. He lifted the lid. Beneath half-a-dozen carefully treasured notes he had written to her lay the velvet case containing the slip of paper he sought. , , ... It was in his hand. Ah, no! with the bound of a tigeress, Daisys had sprungupon him, wrested it from his grasp, and was holding it to her bosom. „,, "Would you rob me of that, too.' she panted. "I was at the foot of the cliff wher your .friend joined you. I heard all he said, and-and your answers! You are tired of me; you have discovered that it was the act of a madman to marry me! Go, then! I shall never call you back ! He would have excused himself; hut she did not stay to listen. She fled—not to the chamber, where he might have followed her—but to Mrs Wakely. He could not go to her there, nor endure to be catechized by the low Cornish woman. When Daisy came to her senses, she would be more reasonable, and, leaving on the desk the only bank-note he had left, he strode haughtity away, trying to regard himsejf as an injured individual.

General Haydon did not land in England after all. At Port Said an official command arrested his steps, and he was persuaded to return and resume his appointment; but he heard enough from his lawyers to cause him to send to his son an imperative request that Laurence would join him at Bombay. Laurence, who preferred his native country fenced with this parenta desire; but on no other condition would the general advance more money, and he was compelled to obey. . . While selecting his outfit, which, like everything else he did, was planed in the most luxurious style, a lucky hit, as he called it—a sweepstake for a race—made him the owner of fifty pounds, and in a moment of remorss he forwarded half the sum to Daisy, promising to see her shortly. It was a pswmise he did not intend to keep. Once in the rush of his former life, the generous impulses that had induced him to wed her, and the tender love her sweetness and purity evoked, faded away, and were only recalled as follies that o'ught to have been avoided. But it mortified as much at it surprised him when the twenty-five pounds were returned by Mrs Wakely with the curtest of notes: "You have broken the best heart in the world, and money won't pay for it. I mean to keep [[the babe myself." And so she was dead—the pretty, loving Daisy, whom for nix short montns he had prized as h?s dearest' possession! For a few hours he was tilled with remorse; he would go to

BY HENRIETTA B. EUTHVEN. Author of "His Second Love," " Corydon's Infatuation," " Daring Doia," " An Unlucky Legacy," Etc., Etc.

the dace where she died, weep at her grave, and erect upon its marble cro«3 to her memory. But after a nieht's sleep he grew calmer, and could remind himself that his intentions muse be deferred. His passage was taken in a steamship that would sail on the morrow, and' all the regrets in the world would net bring the hapless girl to life. So he shut away in one of the innermost recesses of his memory all that pertained to a fair young bride and a lengthy honeymoon. As for the child—Daisy's child—if ever,it did force itself into his recollection, he shuddered, and did his best to forget that it had ever been born. ,

CHAPTER 111. THE GENERAL'S RETURN. "At last!" exclaimed a bluff, imposing-looking old gentleman, who moved with difficulty and the help of a stick. "Give me an arm some one, and let, me be the first to step on shore. It is five-and-twenty years since I trod English soil!" The splendid troopship had sailed into Portsmouth harbour, bringing with it, besides a large number of troops, several officers and veterans, whose return had hitherto been delayed by the wars and rumours of wars which it had been their business to quell. More than one of these gallant men had friends residing in or near the town, and their hospitality was pressed on General Haydon, the bluff, generous, hot-headed, and warmhearted old soldier, whom every one esteemed no matter how often he quarrelled with them. ! "A thousand thanks!" was the answer he made to all these offers; "but I must go straight to town, for i there I expect to meet my son. You j have heard of him? For several years he has been at the front in every scientific expedition worth note, and more recently he has been hunting he lion and defying the negro in Central Africa. Queer taste, isn't ( it? But have you read his travels-? Though I need not ask, for every one reads them. I *:an't go anywhere without seeing the books on my friend's tables. Yes, yes, it's a queer taste, and I'm not sorry he has promised to give up such a wild life for my sake, that we may do London society together." General Haydon said something of the same kind in the compartment of which he occupied one side, for he wa9 still suffeing from severe*wounds received from the poisoned arrows of one of the hill tribes; and as he spoke, a clergyman laid down his paper with a start to gaze at the speaker. Something in that look made the general return it questioningly. Either they were not strangers, or in was an impertinence on the part of the younger man which he did not feel disposed to suffer. [to be continued.]