When Love Rules The Heart.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9533, 3 July 1909, Page 2

When Love Rules The Heart.

V BY OWEN MASTERS. ? ? (j, Author of "Captain Emlyn's Daughter," "The Woman W 5 Wins," "The Heir of Avisford," "One Impas7 sioned Hour," Etc., Etc. /

CHAPTER I. LORNA CASSON'S AVOWAL. A sunny day —a brilliant scene a dazzling picture of brightness and colour. The Henley festival was a great success. The skies were blue, and a soft wind tempered the heat of the sun. It was like fairyland. The house-boats, punts, and river-cratt of every kind were gaily decorated with bunting and flowers. There were bright-dyed, graceful girls, with rose leaf faces —dainty forms in white and pink and blue—men in white flanels and "blazers" whose brilliancy of colour dazzled the eyes. Some of the la Iter were stretched indolently on the verdant lawns,pother were puddling i«J and out among the larger craft. In the shade of an old elm-tree on one of the emerald lawns that sloped down to the river a strong-limbed young fellow and a lady were seated. The man was smoking a pipe, his hands behind his head. The lady was dividing her attention between a popular French novel and the animated scene on the opposite shore. She was a beautiful woman of thirty, or thereabouts, with clear blue eyes, beautiful red lips, and a small Grecian nose —a patrician every inch of her. Lady Annandale was the wife of a wealthy savant nearly double her age--an adoring husband and a most estimable man. The big handsome young fellow beside Lady Annandale was her only brother—a replica of herself, but on a larger, rougher scale. He was half a dozen years her junior, fresh from Oxford, and yearning for worlds to conquer. "I have spoken to you three times, Duncan," Lady Annandale said sweetly, "and you have not deigned to answer me." Duncan Armitage turned his head lazily. "Your remarks upon the weather are not particularly interesting or original, Florence," hs replied. "Everything is extremely delightful, of course, but to me it is abominably slow."

"Slow?" Lady Annandale opened her eyes; then a ripple of musical laughter passed her red lips. "I really think that boys of twenty-four would b6 insufferable were they not amusing! Your base air remind me of poor Captain beard. You do not know him? Oh, yes—you do! We met him in the Row last month. LavenJer-coloured trousers and gloves, irreproachable hat, an I side-whiskers!"

"What! That old fossil?" laughed Duncan. "Spare me,. Florence!" "Then recant at once! Youth should enjoy the pleasures of youth — not ape the manners of a misanthrope! Look upori the scene of brilliant animation and say that it is abominably slow! From Phyllis Court to Temple Island the colours are ever moving, ever changing. Duncan, dear boy, of what are you thinking? Nos of Horace or Euripides, but of some pretty maid whom you have left behind you in classical Oxford! I hope to goodness she is not a pastry-cook or a milliner! I have heard somewhere that all university men fall in love with shopgirls —the pink-and-white creatures, you know. What a terrible misfortune to befal a scion of our house!"

Duncan's face flushed a deep red. His sister's pleasant raillery did not amuse him.

"I was never in love in my life," he retorted. "And, as for the pink-and-white women, 1 detest them!" "Then you would prefer your Hebe to be dark and of Junoesque proportions?"

"Don't talk bosh, Florence, or I shall fly back to town! lam sorry that your husband is not at the Nook to keep you in order!"

"Sir John will not return from Paris until the end of the week," said Lady Annandale serenely. "Duncan, go up to my boudoir and bring back my field-glass. It is lying about somewhere. The Cassons and the Howards have promised to lunch with us under the Bky. Hurry along, dear boy! I believe that their launch is threading its way from Temple Island."

Duncan rose obediently. Ho was absent only a few minutes; but, fhort as the time was, his sister was surrounded by half a dozen

people when he returned. Then he found himself bowing to a sdperb girl, whose flashing black eyes were gazing curiously in to his own. "Miss Lorna Casson," said Lady Annandale merrily. "Lorna, this is my brother, Duncan Armitage. You have already heard a great deal of each other from me. Now I hope you will become great friends!" Mr and Mrs Casson were introduced to Armitage. They were neighbours of the Annandales, and moved in the same set. The Cassons belonged to anold Berkshire family, and were immensely wealthy. The next minute Duncan Armitage was shaking hands with the Howards —mother, son, and daughter. Cecil and Helen Howard had been the companions of his boyhood. Cecil was a clever looking young fellow, under the medium size, with a fine head and face, His sister was remarkably fair —a slender, beautiful girl. "I am just recovering from a fit I of the, blues," Armitage laughed.

"You?" cried Cecil. "I should imagine the blues impossible on such a day as this! Look at the river—a fitting subject for an artist! This is paradise, after the heat and dust of London. But I forgot; you are one of those who 'toil not, neither do they spin'!" Miss Casson laughed, and Helen Howard glanced shyly at Duncan. "That is exactly where the rub comes in," he said grumblingly. "I envy you your independence, Cecil. You have an occupation—a profession of your own choosing—and you will be a judge some day. We faced our Greek and Latin together, we fought side by side in the football field and in the roits between town and gown. If i had my way I should like to continue the battle with a free hand. There is something exhilarating in the knowledge thac you are unshackled. But 1 have the misfortune to be the only son of a peer, whose ancestors went through one. routine with the regularity [of a swinging pendulum. From nursery to schoolroom, from schoolroom to Eton, from Eton to Oxford, from Oxford abroad for a couple of years, then marriage! The heir of Rainhill has never the privilege of choosing his own wife. If he happens to fall in love with the lady chosen for him by his parents, well and good; but I dislike thj slavery. I would almost as soon work in the lead-mines of Siberia." "Hard lines!" laughed Cecil Howard. "Twenty-five thousand a year and tha title of Rainhill. Well, let us suppose that you kick over the traces." Duucan started.

"I had never thought of such a thing. If I displeased my father by disobeying him, I believe .it would embitter the rest of his life. He would never look upon me again, and would in all probability leave me an almost barren title."

The Cassons had turned away, but Helen Howard was looking at Armitage, a wistful expression in her sunny blue eyes. "My dear boy," Cecil said seriously, "obey your father in all things, and be content with the goods the gods provide. Lord Rainhill is intensely pvoud of the traditions of his race; It is your duty to uphold those traditions. You must not be the first to cast a blot upon the escutcheon of the Rainhills. Your father is cold and haughty, but he is not unreasonable. Be careful how you fall in love! It is a friend who advises you—a friend who knows your fiery nature."

"Who talks of love?'' said Duncan. "Never in my life have I had an extra heart-throb for a woman." Then he added: "I should like to fight again for my college to-day. Sae how those fellows row together. It makes one's pulses tingle!" | TO BE CONTINUED.]

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