SIR JOHN'S HEIRESS.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9670, 18 December 1909, Page 2

SIR JOHN'S HEIRESS.

CHAPTER Xll.—Continued. "On the other hand, my dear Miss Carrington, I Know that my information will interest you. It has reached me, irora a private but most reliable | source, that there is likely to some scandal in connection with the firm of Linton, Son and Li-iton. though your—er—friend, the son, is doing his best to hush it up. The father is | supposed to be ill at home, but has in reality gone to the Continent -" "This does not affect me in the least!" interrupted Hilda, haughtily. "Will yc bje so good as not to refer to it again, Mr Molson?" The lawyer looked up in a puzzled way. Had she already given young Linton his conge? He was clearly a detrimental now. "You have finished?*' asked Hil rising. "Thank you! I have other things to see to." He noted the glitter in her eyes, the firmly set mouth and haughty poise of the head. "What I have, said was prompted by the best of motives," began Mr Molson. "Apologies are needless!" HilJa swept out of the room without so much as glancing at thejawyer. ' ■ "I have made an enemy of that girl!" Mr Molson thought. "Little spitfire!" An hour after this incident the, London mail came in nnd Hilda laughed and cried over a letter which it brought tu her. Thus it ran: •'my Darling Sweetheart; The news 1 have to ajtnd is riot altogetni* bad news. My unhappy father" has absconded, it is true, but the facts wi'.l be kncwn to only a very few.persons. Our managingclerk will take over tie business aa it stands, and, with the aid of a partner wil] pay off tthe small liability—a matter of about a thousand pounds I have arranged thin satisfactorily; and the most serious side of affairs has tically ananged i seif, though I shall always consider myst If under an obligation to liquidate the dtbt in order to restore the honor of my family. "Our chief ere itjr—the creditor whose money my father has uaed for his own purposes—is Colonel Mayhew, whose son is engaged tj my sister, Marian. You have heard me speak often ot Harry Mayhew—dear old Harry, the most loyal-hearted, nob'e-souled fellow in all the world! The moment the evil news reached him he hurried to the assistance of my mother and sister, and, in defiance of his fatr.er, obtained a special license, anu Matian and he were murI ried this morning. Thus a prosecu ! tion by Col nel Mayhew has been rendered well-nigh impossible, and what appeared to be an insvitabje acandal las been averted. The colonel cannot imprison the father 01 his son's wife though he had washed his hands of his Eon, whose entire income amounts to only two hundred a year. Nothing remains ,io mother except the household furniture |it Euston Square, so Harry and his bride will probably reside with her, and they are confident of perfect happiness. "Sweetheart, my position financially is even worse than when I left you; for I am morally—nay, legally —responsible to Colonel Mayhew for a very large sum of money—nearly twelve thousand pounds! And in addition, I must help my mother. In such circumstances as these our wedding must be indefinitely postponed. You would not have me sacrifice my self-respect; a»id I must work—work until the burden is cast aside. But I wiiriome'and li\e*' very-near to you, where I c*an see j ou, every "day, and you shall be my constant inspiration '- Do that! have had all sort's, of; wildUdreams about the diaca rde,d, mine. But I must put them away from me—they are the foolish fancies of an over-sanguine temperament—and settle down to the solid facts of life. "I am returning to Llanberis almost at once so that I may be present at the funeral of Sir John. . . . My darling Hitda, it will be so much easier to talk these matters over togsiher, and I think that i have a great deal to be thankful for. At *my rate, my name will not be dragged through the mire by unfeeling newspaper men. "Dear one, I was so worried when I saw you last time that I forgot to give you the engagement ring I had bought tor you! I am therefore sending it with this letter. Your lover, "VICTOR." Hilda clasped the letter to her breast with a little sob, then took from the envelope a tiny cardboard box in which was secreted the precious ring. She removed the lid and it was revealed—a broad gold band in which was set a little ruby heart. Hilda pressed it fondly to her lips, and then slipped it on her finger, murmuring pss.-ionately: "There it remains until death! Oh, my brave, generous Victor, who defied all for my sake when I was poor and friendless—who taught me the meaning of love!" She sobbed again. "The world was like a dark

BY P. L. DACKE, Author of "A Lo7eless Marriage," "A Change of Heart," •'Trenholme's Trust," "A Case for the Court," Etc, etc.

waste of waters until you came into my life." For a long space the girl sat in silence, dreaming*, dreaming. And tier dreams were, of the future, with the man she loved. How could she help him, and destroy the banier of pride which he had raised between them. The coal mine might be worthless still, and it had already absorbed many thousands of pounds. Between three and four o'clock that afternoon Mrs Staples-Lambert arrived at the Castle. She was an imposing looking person, with an authoritative air and a decidedly loud manner for a lady of such pedigree. Mr Molson was careful to waylay her immediately. They shook hands cordially. "I have to thank ;'ou for your very kind recommendation," Mrs StaplesLambert began. "I suppose that I may consider myself engaged. Miss Carrington is a mere child, you sayboth simple and ignorant—just out of a second-rate schoil. Well, I like to have my own way." The lawyer waved his hand. "I did write something to that effect but 1 had had no opportunity of studying the girl's character then. If I venture to say anything t must warn you to be most discreet with Misi* Carrington, she has a temper of her own, and if you scratch her delicate skin the tiger-cat appears. _LShe is expecting you." "I am not likely to quarrel with my bread and butter!" • And Mrs, Staples-Lan.bert smiled. " I'he lawyer nodded. ''l will send the housekeeper to take you to your room," he said. shall meet again at dinner.". Half-an-hour laterjMrs StaplecLambert was introduced to Miss Carrington. The cnaperon opened the conversation in her most gushing manner; Hilda, however, treated her with cool indiiference. .

"Your mourning ia being made here; I'suppose you could hot very well do otherwise ~upon such short notice, and with no one at hand to assist you. Now I will take every care from your shoulders, and I hope that you will like me very soon! I nearly always get on well with young people." As Hilda eyed her with a critical stare, Mrs Stapks-Lambert felt quite angry with herself for being disconcerted by a mere schoolgirl. "No," Hilda answered to one of the chaperon's suggestions, "I have no intention of travelling or leaving Woodcroft at all. If I must have Lundon-maae costume? —well, the makers of such things must come to me. As for a maid, for the present I can do without one. I h:««e no wish to be needlessly bothered, Mrs Staples-Lambert.'' "What airs!" thought the chaperon. "The pert little minx —I positively dislike her! Hot her mon*y iJ not to be despised! And th.- horror of that dreadful story about the penniless young scribbler coming to lord it here! The girl is clearly out of Jber wind. Why, she might marry a) title! Her face id not pretty, but! she has a goodjigure," So the day passed, and eveiybody in Woodcroft Castle becarn« insensibly convinctd that the young mistress would rule for herself. It was the evening preceding the day of Sir John's funeral. Hilda was wandering alot-e in the Castle grounds gazing dreamily about her. The lake wi-erein the body if the illfated Lady Mary Idwal had been discovered had atti acted her fancy. It was a gruesome spot, and there was a belief among the dependants that no bird N was ever seen to fly acros& the dark waters. Beyond the lake was a ruined tower,-the . retnajns.of an ancieiii chapel/* 1 ' The wind whispered' mJUrbfully in the trees, and a pale moon was rising over the hills. Behind her the lights in the win dows of the Castle began to gleam; there waj scarcely a ripple on the face of tne Bullen pool. Suddenly Hilda was chilled to the very marrow in her bones. A low, weird song fell up on her ears, and beneath the ivycovered walls of the ruined tower a gray shadow in trailing garments hovered for a moment then vanished into thin air.

Hilda endeavoured to speak, but her toiigue refused its office. Fascinated, she gazed at the spot where she hau seen the shadow. The ivy rustled in the evening breeze which swept over the lake with a mournful sound. Gathering her skirts together, the girl turned and fled back to the Castle. Her nerves were completely unstrung. In the open she encountered the butler, who so far forgot himself as to stare ruriou.-ly at his mistress. "A tt Ngram for you, Miss ton," he said, lowering his eyes. "It arrived half an hour ago, but 1 have only just succeeded in finding you" Hilda calmly took the envelope, and dismissed thd man with a gesture; then she tnrust the telegram into the pocket of her dress, and hastened to her own room. TO BE CONTINUED.