FIGHTING HER WAY.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9704, 29 January 1910, Page 2

FIGHTING HER WAY.

CHAPTER V.—Continued. He became suddenly aware thnt he had raised a spirit in Gertrude uarrol's heart that he might not find the spell to lay. In his fooling and idle dalliance with her favors, she had given him a love that might easily become a perilous possession. It was a moment of intense embarrassment for him, and ere he had determined on what tone he should use with her, a messenger entered the box and handed him a telegraphic dispatch. 'Excuse me,' he said, breaking the seal, ' CHAPTER VI. . A QUESTION Of HONOR.

Roland's face grew white and scared as his eye travelled over the words of the dispatch, which was from bis mother. It ran thus: 'Come at once—father stricken with paralysis hopelessly disabled.' It was terrible news for him in every sense—not only because of the dreadful calamity in itself, but because it meant utter destitution for his mother and four young sisters, whose cole means of support had lain in his father's salary as a State official. This had kept them all in comfort, but not a cent, was 6aved for the dark day that had come upen them so suddenly. Mr Marlow, senior, was a hale and hearty man of middle age, and had always been so generous a liver that out of his moderate salary he seemed to find it impossible to do more than live decently. Roland was now hrought abruptly face to face with the fact that out of the meagre income on which he barely managed to make a respectable figure in the world, he must how provide a home, and support for hia invalid father, his mother, and his sisters—two of whom were uneducated. No wonder his warm blood froze round his heart. /

But except this deathly paleness he made no sign as he refolded the telegram, and placing it in his pocket' as he rose, he said, very quietly: ' You must permit me to leave you in Mr Thorncliff's care; Miss Carrol. I've just heard that my father is sick and needs me. I shall leave town at one.' Cu^T-w^.

'Oh, I hope there's not much the matter!' cried Gertrude, anxiously searching his immovable features. 'I hope so, too. I shall know in a few hours. Meantime I trust you will be happy.' He forced the conventional smile to his white lips as he bent over her outstretched hand. She held his fingers with a clinging eagerness, as she said:

'Promise to let me hear if you find your father very ill, and let me be the first to see you on your returnwill you?' 'I promise both with many thanks Good night' 'Excuse me just half a minute,' said Jack to Gertrude, as he followed his friend out into the corridor.

What is it, dear oid boy?' he asked, linking his hand in Roland's^arm. 'Bad enough, Jack. The crumbling house is flat down on your heels. Father's hopelessly paralysed, and I have only a pitiful two thousand a year to keep them all.' The clear, ringing tone, that belonged to the man's rich voice was strange and low as he said this, but not a tremor shook it—nota fibre in him quivered —nevertheless such a great agony looked out of his splendid dark eyes, that Jack Thorncliff felt himself about to burst out crying like a big schoolboy. Without a word he wrung his friend's cold hand, and turned away to take care of his tears lest some curious passerby should see them fall. Roland hurried away, and Jack, after getting the better of his lachrymal glands, returned to tell Gertrude Carrol what had happened. So absorbed was the honest heart of loving Jack Thorncliff in his friend's heavy trouble, that he scarelv looked at, much less scrutinised, the countenance of Miss Carrol while relating the news, and explaining the consequences of the catastrophe so tar as Roland was concerned. It was well for Gertude that such was the case—the tiumphal light that played over her brilliant face must have sorely vexed the divining powers of bluff Jack, who was litttle given to the reading; of riddles. The truth was that Miss Carrol recognised in this sad dispensation the link that would complete the chain she had forge for this proud patrician, whose neart she felt she had not touched—who perhaps despised her coarse antecedents—yet who graciously enough amused himself with her preference for him and the pleasures that her wealth showered at his feet. Her first and sole motive in courting his attentions had been mercenary, or, rather, ambitious. She had money to spare. ' Her ruling desire was to marry into ! a distinguished family. The dust ef the trade marks clung to her ducats; she desired to purify them in the at | mosphere of aristocratic names.

BY ROSS ASHLEIGH. Author of "Eleanor's Luck," "The Widow's Wager." "Pure Gold," Etc, etc.

She had not counted on falling des" perately in love with the young lawyer, but since she had committed this folly, it was a reason the more why her matrimonial scheme should not fail; and in this stroke of ill-lorture to Roland she foresaw a powerful agency to serve her own designs. She would rather have had him marry her for love; but failing this, she was willing to t&ke him on any terms. Three days elapsed without bringing the promised tidings from Roland Marlow, and Gertrude was growing very restless under the suspense. Meanwhile Roland had hastened from the opera house to the depot to catch the outgoing train for Providence Arrived at home he found his father quite out of danger so far as life was concerned, but a helpless cripple in mind and body, the heaviest load of all in his burden of new cares. In a very few weeks the family must leave the house, on which the rent had been paid up to the first of January. After that a new home must be provided. It was pitiful to watch the silent sympathy with which each of the helpless ones looked up to the brave and calm young face of the ton and brother, whose broad stioulders seemed all too weak, by human calculation, for the weight thus dropped without warning upon them. 'Never mind, dears, don't worry about how it is to be done, only be very sure that it shall be done,' he said, one day, in answer to their various framed questions as to how the future was to be met.

For his own part he was as far from the solution of the problem as they were, but his soul was moulded of such heroic stuff that "the impossible" was a proposition never admitted to his logic of life. He began to think of many ways he could save money, and of a few more by which he could make it. For the rest, he said in bis own heart: 'God is everywhere.' Not that Roland Marlow had any religion to boast of. Alas! he was but "a heathen pagan" as he facetiously called himself; but his faith in the All Father had overlapsed all the jargon of the sectarians and of the skeptics to catch hold of the vital truth that the Master is omnisient and omnipotent, never forgetting or forsaking what He has made and breathed upon with His immortality.giving spirit. 'Mr Marlow!' Announces Henry the footman, as he opens the library door where Miss Carrol and her father are playing at dominoes after dinner of the fourth day since Roland's departure for Providence.

The young man was already on the threshold and had the full benefit of the rich flush of pleasure that mantled Gertrude's face as hia name was uttered.

Mr Carrol was bo effusive in his greeting that his daughter had time to recover herself before her turn came to welcome their guest. 'You must have good news, since you are here and booking so well,' she said gently, detaining his hand while her eyes tenderly questioned his.

'I have.no good news, but it is not so bad as it might have been, thank God! My father is quite comfortable r.uw, but utterly helpless.

May I have a hand in your game?' It was easy to see that the last clause was to fence off further comment or inquiry'on a theme too painful for him to discuss, and boch of his companions at once recognised this, for the subject was dropped until Mr Carrol excused himself from the game, saying he must go to meet a friend at the club. Ic had long ago been understood between the father and daughter that when Roland Marolw came he was to have a fair field. 'Tell me all,' said Gertrude, when

she found herself alone with him. 'There is really no more to tell,' he answered, keeping his eyes steadily fixed on the fencework he was dexteriously constructing with the domino blocks. 'What shall you do with your family?' She meant the inquiry in kindness, but it was hardly off her lips before she wished it had frozen there unspoken. Roland's eyes flashed upward with a steely flame glittering in their brilliant irises, and a look of proud rebuke upon every line of his cold face. 'Why take care nf them, Miss Carrol.' The words wc a spoken icily. Each one of them had the effect of a blow that punished insolence. lier face grew scarkr, then pale. She seemed overwhelmed with painful confusion as she stammered out: 'Foieive me. I did not mean—ah that is—a—Mr Thorncliff told me they would be destitute—and—l Oh! Roland, I love you, and I want to help you! Can't you understand?' TO BE CONTINUED