SIR JOHN'S HEIRESS.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9669, 7 December 1909, Page 2

SIR JOHN'S HEIRESS.

CHAPTER V.—Continued.

There was a brief silence; then Victor, looking up, said quietly: "Father, have you forgotten that I am a man, and have some right to consider my own future?" "I speak for your own good!" was the angry rejoinder. "That is your honest belief, I am sure, but it is not mine." "You know the consequences?" the old lawver shouted back. "Would to Heaven I had another son ! What are your intentions for the future?" "Unless I can be of some temporary assistance to you, fatner, I have no desire ever to touch a brief again. Often enough in the past you have hinted at taking a partner; why not do eo? IX mother has told you nothing, then it is my duty to inform .you that I am to be married in a couple of weeks or so, and that I intend living by my pen. I hate the profession and the daily routine of the officehave always hated it!" "You are going to ne married? You? Good heavens, you are a greater fool than I thought you were! Anal you will live by your pen? Starve, you mean, in an attic! You will ruin the whole family—your mother, sister—all!" ~,.«

He pointed to the door. "My future wife is Miss Hilda uarrington, ' continued Victor calmly. "Her father is Captain Carrington; and she is the niece of Sir John Carrington, of Woodcroft Castle."

"Leave me!" Mr Linton cried. "I wish never to look upon your face again! I would that the irame of Linton couJd die with me!" Victor rose and stood irresolute for a few seconds.

"At least don't let us part like this, father!" he said hoarsely. "Surely my actions are not of so much importance " "Leave me!" the lawyer repeated, without looking up. "And, mark my words, you are going to misery, starvation, and worse than death! Go—and take my condemnation with you!" Victor was bewildered. He re-, pressed the angry words that ro3e to his Jips, and he never quite remembered the actual words that were ottered, but he was overcome by remorse, indignation and sorrow. When he was alone in his room again he endeavored to review the scene, and was half inclined to believe that it was a hideous dream, until he heard the front door crash, and saw that his father had left the house. The breakfast-hour arrived, and Victor went down-stairs, tfoth his mother and his sister were waiting for him, and their .faces showed that they had divined something of what had passed between him and his father. >

"The governor cut up pretty rough," he said briefly, "and appeared to be amazed that I should kick over the traces! I have no business with any individuality—l ought to accept my fate at his hands, and be thankful for small mercies! His wild talk was a bit mystifying." "He is bitterly disappointed Victor! You must bear with him," Mrs Linton murmured. "It is all ever, mother."

"I don't understand you, dear." She placed two trembling hands upon his shoulders.

"I mean that it is 'good-by!' The governor has told me to clear out: but, of course, I sha'n't be far away from you. And I shall get on all right;. 1 still have the mon?y left to me by poor aunt Mary, you know —it is only a few hundreds, but manv happy couples have begun with lees."

He sat uown at the breakfast-table. Far up the street he heard the sharp "rat-tat" of the postman, and his hear*, bounded. Was there a letter for bim from Hilda? She had promised to write to him, and even a single line would be sweet among all these bitters.

. The postman came nearer, nearer. lie stopped at the door of the Linton's house; then a servant appeared with a letter. Victor's heart seemed to stand still as Marian turned the letter over abstractedly, saying: "It is for you, Victor " His face flushed, his fingers trembled. It was from Hilda—he knew her schoolgirl hand so well! — and it was quite a bulky package He tore open the envelope, and two enclosures dropped out. He saw himseff addressed as "Darling Victor*'; then :

"I-promised to write to you, and I always endeavuor to keep promises. Miss Lewis has kindly instructed me in the mysteries of shopping this afternoon, and you will hardly recognise the shabby schoolgirl, when you come back to her next week. Next week ! It seems like an eternity, and lam already very lonely here, because I am such an object of curiosity. People are not yet satisfied as to the enormity of my sins, I have no doubt that Miss Morgan is industriously circulating some fibs. "I have juat been looking at my self in the glass, and cannot imagine what you can see in my gipsy face to admire. I dou't think I should have nought of it if I had not heard some one remark that my impish ways

V BY F. L. DACRE, 1 b Author of "A Loveless Marriage," "A Change of Heart," * •'Trenholuie's Trust," "A Case for the Court," / Etc, etc

must have bewitched you! But it does not matter, as I am sure of the eternal love of one who is sacrificing so much for me. Dear, dear Victor — my hero —I could die for you! I have enclosed a copy of a letter which I shall mail to my uncle, Sir John Carrington, to-night I know that Miss Morgan will have something to say, and it is delightful to make my independence known to him. Come back to me soon—my own! "Yours in life and death, HILDA." ! The letter to Sir John was in a very different strain. All through t were notes of defiance and triumph. ''You have treated me abominably," it ran, "and subjected me to the petty spite of a narrow-minded, vixenish woman, who has tortured me daily with her tongue. Why did you not send me back to my father when I was a child, or to some pauper institution? It would have been much cheaper for you, and would have les ■ sened the burden of the debt I owe you. However, Ido not require your bounty now, and gladly renounce the ( name 01 Carrington forever. In a short time I shall be married to a man who with horror and repugnance, regards your 'generosity' to the girl he loves—so much so that he has promised to assist her to refund every penny, with the usual legal interest." r^=-^*: Victor put the letters into his pocket, smiling as he did so. "I shall not be absent from you a week, my darling," he thought. "Perhaps not for another day." His mother was watching him" with mournful interest. "It is all for the'best," he said again, this time speaking more cheerfully. "The rupture was bound to come sooner or later. I will give Harry Mayhew a call to-day, then see the publishers, and to-night I shall go back to Llanberis., Yes, Marian, the letter was from Hilda—the girl lam going to marry. Perhaps you will meet me somewhere? I don ; t care to see the governor here again just yet; I will telegraph a place of meeting when my business is done." j He started cityward a little later, | and had an interview with the publishers who had been pleased to en courage him. The result was a gratifying one. From the office of the publisners he walked to the Mayhews* house in Regent's Park. They were people of good position, and Lintnn> Son and Linton had been their lawyers for many years. Lady Florence Mayhew was the only child of a peer, and her husband was a colonel in the Guards; their only child, Harry, was a goodnatured, handsome f< How. and was deeply attached to Marian Linton. The butler greeted Victor with respectful cordiality; he had known him since he began to wear an Eton suit. "Morning, Baily!" said Victor. "Don't announce me at this unearthly hour. Is Mr Harry knocking about anywhere? He is at home? Then take me to his den, and ttll him that, I want to see him." The "den" was a smoking-room on the second floor—a veritable bachelor's sanctum. A pyramid of cigarboxes stood on a tide-table, and pipes of all sorts and sizes were scattered everywhere. The walls were decorated with sporting celebities and pretty women. '1 he whole of the furniture *vas crowded into one corner of the room, and a set of boxinggloves showed that there had been some "fun" very recently. Victor had only just mastered these details when the door was pushed open and a nandsome young giant entered the room. His right hand was held out, and his merry brown eyes sparkled with pleasure. "Glad to see you, old man! Thought that \ou were seeiiy and 'run-down,' but you're looking tiptop. When did you get back to town? Last night? Marian knew nothing of your coming yesterday; we had a last walk thro.gh the pa»-k. The colonel's determined to <?o abroad at once —can't stand our villainous climate in the winter!" He swung round a couple of chairs with a disconsolate growl. "Rheumatism is his excuse, but I believe that trouble is brewing for me and Marian. Sit down, Vic, and don't look so much like a blessed fool! Don't take any notice of the room' —-Ive been making a dust-up with the gloves with our new groom." Linton sat down, ( feeling verse of cheerful. "Trouble for you and my sister, Hal? What trouble?" "Look at the dear innocent!" But Harry Mayhew's face wore a serious expression. "la it pussible that you have not seen your governor yet? I fancied that he had hurried you back to business. Money-matters are the trouble, of course. I hate money! The colonel and your guv got down to the question of settlements recently i you know that 1 have only a couule j of hundred a year." rin stammered and blusher l . "Seutemtnts?" said Victor. TO BE CONTINUED.