FIGHTING HER WAY.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9717, 12 February 1910, Page 2

FIGHTING HER WAY.

CHAPTRR XVll.—Continued

Barely she had not bee:: such a fool as to let her heart be touched with any other sentiment than gratitude to this chivalrous young man who had, as e himself said, only done for her what he would have done for any other woman.

And why should his betrothed have followed him into her presence and so pointedly arraigned him for being there? Was it indeed true that maliciou= scandal had coupled her name with that of this man whose attentions to a poor shop girl like herself could, in the eyes of the suspicious world, mean but on thing, and th*at thing her dishonor! As the horror that Doctor Howard's cruel words had once before waked in her breast now returned, and bitterly she reproached herself for having treated them with contempt, and for permitting Roland Marlow ever again to visit her, even here under the honourable protection of Mrs Goodley's roof. Yet who had dared to make food for scandal out of the purely friendly acts she had received from him?

Oh, it was too brutal in the hard, cruel world tnus to malign and ruin the reputation of a girl so lonely and always so true to the chasest inspirations of pure womanhood. The thought so crushed her that she abandoned herself to the sharp misery of it, and her sobs brought Mrs Goodley from the next room, where she had been busy with her household affairs, taking no account of what was going on in the front of her house. ' What ails you, my poor dear?' said the kind old lady, as she put her motherly arms round the weeping girl. 'uh, Mrs Goodley, what have I ever done that God should give me up to the mercy of wicked gossips!' cried Christine rebelliously. 'Child, don't talk about God in that way. He never gives any of us up; it is our own folly or ignorance that makes us get into trouble. But what has happened to make you say that?' Christine then related, as well as she could, every circumstance connected with Mr Marlow's relations with, and attentions to. herself, and then told of what Doctor Howard had said, and of the scene that had just transpired. 'My poor, silly child, all this comes of your foolish notion of being independent of uvery one, and trying to live alone like a nun in her cell up there in your little store. You see it is just as I said a while ago, your own folly or ignorance gets us into trouble. In your case it has been the ignorance of a sinless soul all unconscious of how the men and women around them regard, what seems to you quite harmless.' 'But, dear Mrs Goodley, am I to suffer for the evil thoughts of other people?' 'Ala-*, my little one, this world is none too careful about who is made a meal of for the gossips. Having the misfortune to be very poor, and very beautiful, you are a tempting morsel for their cannibal feasts. But cheer up, Christine, th: ugly words of a wicked old man and a jealous young woman can't stand against your wellknown reputation for modesty and severe virtues. No one who knows you will believe a word of what these creatures have said; but it may have the good result of making you change you mode of life a little.' 'You mean I must give up my dear little home and live with other people' 'I mean just that, my dear. No girl so charming as yourself can afford to live in &o unprotected a manner; the wonder is that you have escaped so long. You know how glad I sball be to give you a home on your own terms."

'Yes, you have always been so good tome.' said Christine, crying softly now as she rested her lovely head on the good woman's breast. 'lt is little you have ever let me do for you, child; but when you come to iive with me—as you must now—you will give as much as you receive. I am old and lonesome; your company of evenings will be worth a little fortune to me.' 'But you will allow me to pay my board at the regular rates?'

'You shall do whatever will make you happiest, my dear. There, hush crying now, and let me give you a cup of my favourite tea; it is all ready.' Mrs Goadley had hardly reached her pantry when Franz, Miss Castlebar's errand boy, was ushered in He bounced into the little parlor with his cheeks like red apples and his eyas bright as jewals. Shaking in front of Christine a small pauch of coins, he exclaimed, with breathless eagerness: 'What'd I tell ye, Miss Castlebar! I sold every one of 'em —the last flowsr—and I've made somi nice contracts for to-morrow. Tell you what's a fact—l can run the shop first rate till you're well enough to come back. T'would surprise you the nice lot of bouquets made up today. I ain't watched you so long for nothing!'

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

By this time Franz was fairly out of breath; and, having run all the w«;y the good news, sank down panting into the chair by his beloved mistress.

'Bless your dear, brave little heari, Franz! I never doubted your willingness to undertake the most tremendous enterprise,' said Christine, smiling at the boy's triumphant expression.

'Oh, yes, but you did doubt that I could carry on the business while you was away, for you wanted to shut up th:i store.'

'You must forgive me for doing your ta'ent such injustice, Franz. I see now how wrong I was. How much money did you make on those last flowers?'

'Eight dollars and a-half: here it is, ma'am.' And ha proceeded to lay the silver on the table, and counted it carefully out. 'I am afraid you were a little extortionate, Franz. Those flowers were hardly worth so nuch.' 'Now do, Miss Gastlebar! What difference does it make to you if rich folks are willing to pay a good, price for flowers?' 'We must be honest, Franz, and unless y n u promise to abide strictly by my prices, I must not let you serve my customers.' ' All right, Miss Caslebar. I'll do exactly as you say; but, you must admit, some of those roses were real gems. Wish you'd seen how a young fellow went on over a bunch of lilies and roses he bought for his sweetheart!'

How do you know they were for his sweetheart, you naughty boy?' 'Fellows like him don't buy such flowers for girls they ain't in love with.'

Evidently Master Franz had begun to study human nature in a small way. Christine laughed, at his wisdom, as she said:

'Very well, dear, you can go down to the florist early to-morrow for a fresh supply—mind you don't get more than you are sure you can sell; we can't afford to waste anything now, Franz.' 'See if I do!' said the clever, thrifty little Yankee hoy, who had been lining on his wits since he was out of his cradle, and had long ago learned that waste meant wane at some future day. Having received his employers instructions and enjoyed the nice supper that, Mrs Goodley had forced upon him, Franz went his way with the self-importance of a clerk suddenly promoted to the co-partnership in a "big fir id.' Christine passed a restless night, and awoke next morning feverish and worn with all the disturbing thoughts that had haunted her pillow ; by Mrs Goodley's advice she had determined to see Marlow once more and frankly explain her reasons for declining any further assistance from him. His past kindness demanded at least this much; indeed Christine felt she could do no less without appearing ungrateful, and if he were the man she believed him, he would appreciate and, respect her candor, understanding What it cost her.

She Was sitting in Mrs Goodley's parlor waiting for him when he arrived.

The slight fever in her blood had given a lovely flush to her cheeks, and an unwonted lustre to her. beautiful soft eyes, that still showed traces of tears and her lack of sleep. She was busy with some needlework for Mrs Goodley, and the nervous movement' ot her slim hands told of the unsettled condition of her feelings. She was, dainty as a young princess in her Jspotless cambric wrapper, over which sne wore a graceful kind of wrap made of blue flannel trimmed in lace that was cheap, of course, but just as effective as it it had cost no end of'money. 'I hope to find you much stronger to-day, Miss Castlebar; let me begin with expressing my profound regret for the distressing scene with which you were inflicted last evening.' Koland spoke rapidly and with the excitement of one who plunges without hesitation into the midst of a disagreeable explanation that must be made. As he finished his remarks—which were made while he held Chrishand in greeting—he took the chair nearest lo her and seemed to await her reply. Her face--not used to practice deceit—showed all the fm fusion that she felt —it was "ro.-v red." She bent it lower over her work as she said softly: 'I am sure that you do regret it, Mr Marlow: let us not speak of that.' TO BE CONTINUED