HER SILENCE JUSTIFIED.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 3222, 21 June 1909, Page 2

HER SILENCE JUSTIFIED.

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

CHAPTER XXVll.—Continued. But ere long Miss Braysby made the discovery that their attendant was a remarkably intelligent-looking young man, and imparted it to her charge with a titter, bidding her find some pretext for calling him forward. As Lois promptly refused, she soon found one herself, and, having brought him to her side, contrived to detain him there. In spite of her repeated assertions that she was an excellent equestrienne, she proved both timid and awkward, often in need of assistance. For this Lois could have forgiven her, though she looked with scornful wonder in the hilly creature who, in corsets that scarcely permitted her to breathe, ,and boots and gloves a size too small, imagined she would be. able to ride decently. But when Miss Braysby proceeded to play off on the grave Hal her battery of attractions, lisping, simpering, - turning up her eyes, etc., the disgusted girl soon lost all patience, A touch of the whip communicated to the mare the same impatient mood, and, in spite of park regulations, away they darted. Hal shouted a signal of recall; but it evoked no reply, and speedily they disappeared altogether from their more plodding companions. On went Lpis, careless whither she strayed—bent only on escaping from those who provoked her beyond endurance. She passed through one of the park gates, and, turning toward the west, "thought, with a deeper yeaning than ever, of the faraway forest, where, if she had often known the pinch of poverty and rough usage, yet had she never felt the dull throbbing of the heartache. There she might have been jealous and angry, but yet if she read Hal Dartford's eyes aright, he was not wholly indifferent to her. Here she might not speak to him, lest she should wreck that ambitious future to pursue which, and not to find her, he had come hither. *

"Everything goes wrong!" she siged. "Except grandfather, who cares what becomes of me? Of what use am I? My fine clothes give me no pleasure, for who sees ms in them? My father frowrs if Igo near him, whereas if granny scolded she kissed, too. When I used to think how nice it would be to have lots of money, it was that I might make Hal a gentleman and set granny above work. She lives easy now, but it's not me she has to thank for it and if I could give Hal a fortune—which I can't — he wouldn't agree to have jt." And still Lois looked wistfully towards the horizon, and began to ask herself why ghi? should not put an end to pe dreary life she found so intolerable? Why should she not ride on and on till she came to the grand old beech-trees, the wide stretches of heather or sward, and the glades where the deer used to couch in bygone years, and there resume the old life of freedom that now she longed for with an unconquerable longing?

Then she let the mare break into a trot, still going towards the west, and fancying she could feel the sharper breath of the sea breezes now that she had turned her face in that direction. And, lastly, she commenced planning what she should do if she succeeded in carrying out the project shaping itself in her mind. She must not go near granny lest the old woman's fears of having her allowance stopped should make her turn traitor; but there stood, about a couple of miles from Mrs Wakely's home, a wretched hovel, where an infirm old woman lived on a parish allowance and what she could earn lay knitting. To take refuge with Nanny Sims would insure her a roof over her head,even though it was a leaky one; and Nanny was a decent old creature, who had often spoken kindly words to the girl they had encountered each other in the forest. To ride down there—to keep her pretty mare will hidden, and when her small stock of money ran short to increase it by her own labours —seemed easy enough. Since Lois came to Bromptom she had often been surprised at the value set upon ferns and plants for window decorations, which she had been wont to regard as weeds. Grown wiser now, why should she not supply her own frugal wants by searching for the finest specimens, and riding into Southampton to dispose of them? Then, in fancy, there rose before her some of the fairest but wildest of those scenes in which her youth had been spent. To see them again, to roam through them at will with none to control her—or, if strangers dared approach, to vaunt on her mare and gallop away, defying them to overtake her—to beautiiy Nanny's cottage by her exertions, and dwell there till Hal came back rich and great. Oh! dreams how fair! Why should they not be realised? Lois shakes the rein. "Faster, faster, pretty one! You shall feed on the wild clover this night, and I will couch beside', you. and let them find us that can!" But looking ahead—with his horse drawn across the road to bar her way—she sees Hal Dartford, and involuntarily halts. He has taken a cross-cut through the park, and is here to intercept her. "Why have you stopped me?"

she asked, with a sob. "I am going back to the forest; I wish I had never left it'" "And General Haydon?" "He has Nurse May; but I do not want/to think —nay, I will not think —of him! Must I trke no account of myself, but be confined in a great town that I hate, along with people like Miss Braysby?" But still Hal answered quietly. "It was she who sent me in search of you; sureiy you will not alarm the general again! If you are long absent, what will he think?" "Go then," she cried imperiously, "and tell him I am safe and well, and not ungrateful for his goodness, but that lam tired of London and myself." She rode on as if determined not to be stopped, but Hal Dartford put out his hand and clasped hers as she went by. Trembling, blushing, and casting scared glances around her, she snatched her fingers away. "Do not touch me," she gasped. "We may be watched. Some 'one always seems to find out all I do, and it is you who would be hurt by it. Oh, Hal, let me go! I cannot be a fine lady while you work for your bread. I cannot bear to behave as if I had never owed you my very life, and keep silent while that father of mine scolds and twits you. I feel as if I must cry out loudly to him, 'You shall not-you shall not! Hal Dartford is my preserver; he ia better, wiser, braver, than either of us, and I cannot let you treat him so'" "Foolish Lois!" the young man answered tenderly. "Do those harsh words cost me a moment's annoyance*/ I work to please myself and the best of old men, not Mr Haydon. Or do you think it troubles me to earn my living,? I would rather dig in a mine than be idle! And as I push) the general's bath-chair down the garden paths, he tells me and teaches me what more tnan repays me for my labours. I'll own that I do not like to see your face turned from me as it has been lately, but if it must be so I can bear it." "But I cannot!" sobbed Lois. ", *! "My dear, you must, and so must I. Times are changed; you are a rich man's daughter,, and I must be content to stay beneath you til! " "Till what?" she asked breathlessly; yet lacking the coruage to look up. f "Until I can climb high enough to reach your level. Is there any reason why I should not? The good clergyman gave me education, the general gives me experience. lam young and strong, and, Loi?. you shall yet see me win a place beside you as your equal." "Aye, but when?" she sighed drearily. I TO BE CONTINUED.] For Children's Hacking Coughs at night, Woods' Great Peppermint Cuie, 1/fl aud 2/6.