FIGHTING HER WAY.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 988, 7 March 1910, Page 2

FIGHTING HER WAY.

CHAPTER XXXlll.—Continued

When the mournful history had , been read through, and the passion- | ate letters refolded and replaced in j their repository, Roland said, in his calm, serious way, but with a world of gladness in his voice. 'And now, my beloved, you are placed where you should be, your social position will henceforth worthy of your beauty and gondne&s, and from out of the phalanx of adorers who will come to your court, you can choose the one best fitted to bear the j gloi-y of your love.' | "Roland, are you trying tu break my heart?" she cried, moved to an agony of misgiving by the tone of renunciation in his voice and look. 'Break your heart, my sweetheart? What a question! Do you fancy I shall love you less fondly, worship you less humbly, when I see you, as you will be some day, the happy wife of a man wno can offer you his hand without dishonour? ' 'And do you think me:o mean that I would not rejoice in your happiness because I cannot be that man?' h/Oh, Roland, how little you know me if you dream Jjpwould accept the tortune of the Rothschilds unless it could be shared with you! I know your pride, and that you would not be indebted to the woman you love for money; but, thank Heaven! I know how to endure poverty, and we will be poor together till you have made yuur own fortune and can marry me. You see, I have accepted | the terms of surrender you at first | proposed. As to my mean old grand-1 father's money, let it found the I charity that may in part atone for | his wickedness to my poor mother. I would not touch a dime of it, unless it could bring me nearer to you.' 'My own love, do you mean it?' asked Koland, rising and standing above her with a solemn yearning iu his eyes. 'How could I not mean it. Roland, having loved you' she answered with fond reproach. He opened his arms to her, and like a weary dove she nest Jed herself to his breast, from which no adverse winds could drive her evemore. After much pesuasion from the executor of the will, Christine was induced to let her maternal estate stand at interest in the executor's hands until she should reach tne immature age of twenty, when, if ever, her judgment would be more competent to decide the great question of whether or riot she should resume her riches. Meantime her life remained unaltered, save that Roland spent his evenings thrice a week in her dainty parlor, and made up the 'lost time' by double work on the other evenings. Miss Castlebar was also presented to Roland's family as his affianced wife, and by them regarded with little less than divine honours. Whatever he loved they adored as a part of their idol. But aside from this fact, Christine soon won from them for herself the warmest affection and highest respect. In accordance with Miss Castlebar's desire, Roland prepared a deed of gift which constituted Fran/: Voltkmann sole ow&er and proprietor of the thriving business in the flower store on Broawday. Under ( the forcing influence of his new I dignity, Franz seeme to have grown at least a foot in one night, in his air of calm importance, tinged with gentle condescension, was the delight and amusement of all the friendly customers who had already formed an attachment for the bright-eyed, handsome youth, and who continue to give him their generous patronage. It may as well be stated at once that in time Herr Voltkmann attained a fine reputation as a florist, and built himself a handsome fortune on the foundantion stone laid forth by Miss Castlebar's gift. A few weeks subsequent to the important event that so changed the aspect cf affairs for our hero and heroine, Mr Truehart made another visit to his young friend, 'Look here, Koland,' he began, with assumed severity, 'I don't want you to put on any airs with me about this business. Your confounded foolery in the matter of refusing the fee for attending to old North's lawyer's case quite put me out of patience with you. 1 don't know j How such a couple of idiots as you, 1 und that little gushing Miss Castlebar are ever to get through life, anyway.' 'Oh, I dare say the ravens will feed us,' laughed Roland, leaning himself hack to enjoy the affected savagei.ess of Mr Trueheart's expression while animadverting upon his sundry stupidities, all of which, however, endeared him -to the respect of the brave old gentleman who dearly loved an independent, self-reliant man. 'The ravens, eh? Humph': the birds will get tired of bringing food 1 to folks who turn away from their 1 provision. But—all jestting aside—here's a real windfall for you, if you'll be a sensible fellow and pick it , up.' : Mr Trneheart proceeded to state i that an office, with a salary of live ! thousand dollars per annum, in the

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

gift of the Governor of New York, had been offered to him, but his age and the superior value of his professional income, decided him to refuse it. He was assured, however, that he could obtain it for Koland if the latter cared to hold it and being connected with the legal profession, it would not materially alter the career that Roland had marked out for himself. 'My dear Mr Trueheart, if you have really done my intelligence the injustice of a doubt as to my acceptance of your too generous proposition, allow me to correct that impression at once. I am too grateful to you, and know not how to t.„ank you,' said Roland, rising and grasping the old man's hand in both of bis, while his lips quivered in the strong tide of feeling that swept through him. 'Oh, bother the thanks, my dear boy I'm so glad to sie you showing a little glimmering of common sense that it fully compensates for any service 1 may be able to render you. Moreover, I do hate to see any man and woman I'm interested in frittering away their time and energies in a long engagement. That little angel, Christine, is quite too sweet a creature to be condemned to hearing a fellow talk silly nonsense in her ear three nights out of seven for the Dext two or three years.' 'God bless your big heart! I really don't think she minds it much.' 'I dare say she endures it with fortitude; nevertheless, that's no reason why she should not be released from it as soon as possible. I'll write and fix things with the governor at nnce then.' 'With your kind permission, I'll go this evening, though it is not in the regular order, and let Miss Uastlebar know that her reprieve from the tri-weekly sessions is at hand.' 'Do; and say, with my compliments, that I think the whole credit of your rational behaviour on this occaskn is due to her influence, A month ago you'd have flung the office at my head with perfect scorn.' What chances may be wrought in the little space of a few months! How the mighty may have fallen, and the lonely ones become exalted in a few duirnal revolutions of the sun! At the door of a handsome residence on Thirty-eighth street, ona bitter evening in the early autumn, a woman, thinly clothed in ragged garments, stands shivering in the cutting blast that sweeps over the city from the river. Her hand 13 on the doorbell, but she hesitates to sound it. Some interior struggle withholds her hand from giving the summons that will expose her Wretchedness to the inmates of that elegant house, whose cheerful light she glimpses through the curtained casements. But the winds bite through her like serpents' fangs, and make her ache and moan. With a sort of desperation, she jerks the bell. TO PR CONTINUED