A TERRIBLE MISTAKE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10040, 10 May 1910, Page 2

A TERRIBLE MISTAKE

1 BY I'. L. DACSB. J» I J w Author of—The Doctor's Secret, A Case for the Court, t» 2* Sir John's Boiress, A Loveless Marriage, w Trenholme 's Trust, Etc. /

CHAPTEK 111.-Continusd. Percy stared in amazement at the old man; then he laughed merrily. How Mr Dudley's hands nhook. What a wistful light there was in his faded eyes! A gleam of sunshine rested upon his snow-white hair, and a feeling of great pity entered the young man's heart. 'You are a comparative stranger here, sir,' the old fluiist went on; 'and Sweetbrier is all that I have — the legacy of an ill-starred marriage between my son, who is dead, and one who shall be nameless. I have acted thoughtlessly in letting this intimacy go on without a word with you, Mr Clifford. I thought at first that you came here to .see my flowers, to talk wilh me, and your clever j tongue deceived me. You may mean well, or you may be only amusing yourself. I know that you are a gentleman—you cannot disguise that —and ) ask you plainly, between man and man, if it would not be better—if it would not be more honourable upon your part ii you went away i from Llantnorne forever?' 'Without seeing Sweetbrier?' cried Percy. The w-rds eacapeti him rinconsiously. The bare pcssioility struck his heart with a deathlike chill. 'Go!' the old man said, pointing to the door. 'And Heaven forgive you if you have blighted my darlir/g's life!' 1 Percy's face was pale, but he i smiled.

'Mr Dudley,' he said, firmly and eagerly, 'I am here to-day to aak Sweetbrier to be my wife. I love her with a devotion that makes me as weak as a little child at the thought of anything coming between us. I have loved her from the moment I first beheld her entering the schoo'house one morning last April. I came to the cottage 'o see her again, to assure myself that roy fancy had not by any chance deceived me. Sinc<= then I have worshipped her day and night. My one dessire now is to make her my wife, to surround her with every luxury which makes life worth living.' His face was flushed, his eyes shone brightly, and he held forth both hands almost pltadingly. *I am sorrj if I misjudged you, Mr Clifford,' the old florist said, brokenly; 'but love for my granddaughter awakened fears within me. I believe that you love, ber, and I know that she loves you. We are both poor people, but Sweetbrier is worthier of a better station in life. She is sweet and she is beautiful, but beauty is a fatal gift sometimes. Beauty was her mother's ruin. I have often wished tht she was anything but the daughter of'her unfortunate mother. Go to her, Mr Clifford; and may Heaven deal with you as you deal with her!'

CHATEPR IV. AN ALARMING TELEGRAM. Percy Clifford passed from the old florists's shop into a long, narrow conservatory, a door at the end of it opened into a garden of blossom and perfume, a garden wherein a thousand varieties of floral beauties gladdened the senses. The happy, eager lover paused for a moment or two and looked «round.

'Sweetbrier!' he called sofily. 'Where are you?' A low peal of rippling laughter was his answer —it was as sweet as the music of silverbells. A joyous smile flashed into his eyes, hia handsome face flushed. 'Sweetbrier,' he pleaded, 'there is not a moment to lose! Experience has taught me that I am not a clever explorer in this mazy garden. Come to me, sweetheart!' A magnificent bush of Iragrant lilac was gently moved aside, and beautiful Hildred Dudley was revealed, standing in a flood of golden sunlight. The picture she made was one never to be forgotten, a picture as an artist or a poet would have loved to dwell upon. The face of the girl was exquisitely lovely; it was like'a fresh, sweet flower bathed in the dew of early rooming. Tne red-gold hair glinted in the sunshine, the pansy eyes sparkled. 'I am here, Percy,* she said. 'Stand still for a moment, Sweetbrier. I want to remember that picture forever. You are in a shower of golden sunlight—a saintly human, flower, framed with lilac bloom! Sn iw-whlte frock, forget-me-nots at your throat, lissom, graceful figure

'Mr Clifford!' interrupted the girl mischievously. 'Come to me, Sweetbrier,' continued her lover. I ha«e a great deal to say to you. Ah, why was I not born a poet ur a painter?' He gazed at her rapturously, and she blushed to the roots of her hair. 'Why do you want to be a poet, l'ercy?' 'Meed you ask?' he demanded. 'lf I were in tjhe least clever, my inspiration would be here! But I am not clever, Sweetbrier.' She looked up at him fondly, wonderingly; and he took one of her hauds between his own. It was a

pretty hand, though not so soft and white as Constance Glinton'g. 'Let us go to our bower of roses, Sweetbrier,' he said. 'I have some thing to give you, something to say to you.' She laughed a gleeful little laugh. He pressed the girl's warm fingers to his lipp, and her heart thrilled with happiness. Tho rose bower was in a secluded corner of the garden. 'Sit in the old place, Sweetbrier,' Percy said; 'and I will knetl at the feet of my queen.' She looked at him shyly, a 'ovely blush dyeing her cheeks, her eyes so humid that they looked l"ke 'pansies after tain.' 'Sweetbrier, my dailing,' continued Clifford, 'what was the matter with grandfather this morning?' She started, and the ro«es left her cheeks.

'Has he been speaking to you, Percy?' she half whispered. 'He | was moss with me this morning when j I told him that you were coming. | People have been talking; and grandfather thought that you were a gentleman merely amusing younelf with poor little Sweetbrier.' Percy was thoughitul for a minute. 'And what did my darling think 9 ' he tenderely asked. *1 knew that grandfather was wrong—l knew that he did not understand how much we loved each other. How could he? I fancy-; ' She paused and hesitated. ' What is it that you fancy, b'weetbrier?' •Robert Winters was here last night. His ship has been dry-docked for a few weeks, and he has leave of absence. I did not spestk to him, but I heard ingry words between him and grandfather.' fa'weetbrier's face was deathly pak\ and her lipa quivered. 'Well'—Percy Clifford smiled-'I suppose that Winters has been trying to make mischief.* His brow darkened for a moment, and then the old sunny light came into his blue eyes again. 'lf this fellow persists in annoying my darling he will have to endure an uncomfortable quarter of an hour with me! Who is he, Sweetbrier? What is he?* 'An officer attached to one of the Atlantic steamships. Grandfather has known bim from boyhood. He ia a mean, horrid man! I hate him!' Clifford laughed merrily, and gathered the girl to his heart. 'Oh, don't, don't!' she whispered, her face crimsoning., 'Percy, you were never so rough before!' - 'I like to see your blushes, darling! I think that a woman loses i half her charm when the rose bloom ceases to play hide and seek in her cheeks. Now, let us dismis Mr Robert Winters, and let me assure my darling that I have quite satisfied grandfather.' He held her face between his strong, brown palnib, and looked into her eyes. * You love me?' he asked. 'More than anything else in the wide world. Percy!' There was a note of intense passion in her voice. 'And you do care who and what [ am?'

'I am satisfied that you are my fairy prince—that you have made my dull life beautiful' the happy girl whispered. 'Dear little Sweetbrier! She what 1 have brought for you!' He held the diamond enaggement ring between bis lingers. 'And I want you to be my wife, darling, as soon as grandfather can spare you.' She uttered a little gasp of delight, and, when the ring was on her finger, kissed it passionately. 'You have not answered my question, Sweetbrier. I want you to be ray wife. How long am I to wait?' 'But we are only just engaged,' she murmured; 'and I cannot leave grandfather all aloiia--unless, unless we are married here, and decide to live in Llanthorne.' He laughed loudly; and Sweetbrier concluded: / 'lf we do that, Percy, I can go on with my teaching, and-—' 'And what am I, to do?' he merrily demanded. 'I don't know,' replied Sweetbrier. "That thought never occurred to me.' 'My darling,' he said, a little seriously, 'on the day that we are married, 1 must take you far away from here, away from these people and all the associations of the place. I have not told you much about myself; but when you are my wife you will be a great lady—the queen of a great household, with servants and carriages at ycur command.' 'Ob, Percy! The girl's lips quivered, her eyes darkened with fear. 'Are you not glad, Sweetbrier?' She did not reply, and he pressed her tightly to his heart. 'Sweetbrier, will you not speak to me?' TO BE '"ONTINTJED