A TERRIBLE MISTAKE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10045, 16 May 1910, Page 2

A TERRIBLE MISTAKE

CHAPiER Vil—Coi.tinued

She looked at him reproachfully. 'Are you sad when I am wilh you? I am happy now; the shadows and the stillness are delightful!' She spoke half dreamily, and the.i sighed, 'there was something wanting which she could not define 'All nature is being lulled to rest,' she continued; 'and see how mystic i? the light of the moon as it flit ersthrough the higher branches ot the trees!' 'Yes,' he replied absently. The same moon was shining upon the saa at Uanthorne. He heard the waves' musical murmur on the gleaming sands, and he thought of a slender white robed figure.

'You are not well, Percy!' Constance said with sudden alarm. 'Your face looks haggard and pale in the moonlight. Does rny foolishfjchatter annoy you?' He stroked her hair ter.dtrly and luoked away. Ho would have given much to be alone.

'You can hardly expect me to be jubilant,' hp said gently; then he added nattily, for the passionate eyes had darkerud with pain; 'I do not wish to reproach you. dear, but my fatl er is never absent from my thoughts. This lingering death ia horrible to me!'

She touched him with gentle sympa-

thy and made him wince. '1 know what your pain must be, my darling,' she whispered, 'because mine is the same! Percy ' She hesitated and her face crimsoned and then grew pale. 'Well, Ctnstar.ce!' w 'You spoke about papa —about this

lingering death. 'lhe doctor believes that he will live for weeks, and that at limes there will be gleams of consciousness. Shall we make that consciousness blissful!' He looked at her worderingly. Her hands wtre clasped tightly together, her eyes shone. •I am afraid that I do not quite catch your meaning, Coi.stance ' he said. 'On. why will you make it so hard for me?' the girl cried. "Percy, the dearest wish of the earl's was to see us man and wife be f ore he j died. Why should we not gratify that wish?"

He iecoi!ed as though cut by the lash of a whir). He utttred a cry that lived in her memory or years. 'lt cannot tie! You do not know what you ask! Besides, the earl would not understand. You shall not make such a sacrifice!' Sacrifice?' She regarded him in thoushtu) astonishment. 'I mean that a woman likes her marriage day to be the happiest day ot her life—with music, beauty, brilliance, 'with my father dying here, the sound of chiming bells would madden me. The whole county would be scandalised. You must agree with me, Constance.' It W2S a lame excuse, and he knew it. He hesitated, and flushed.

'I was r.ot thinking of myself, Percy,' she Eaid half sadly, 'and the idea of a brilliant wedding has never entered my thoughts. If we wait for that, we shall have to wait a long time.'

'A year or so,' he quickly interposed, and she gave vent to a quivering sigh. I have so much to do,' he went on, glad to change the conversation; and my path is beset with duties It is not pleasant to find that the man who has been my companion for

years is my bitterest foe. I mean my cousin—Owen Daventry. Stoner has revealed a daik side of his character to me, and I want your advice about the valet, Constance. He appears to think that you will intercede for him.'

'I believe that his repantanee is sincere,' the girl replied. 'No man is utterly bad who loves his mother and his wife, who has sinned so that they may r.ot suffer. Stoner's past is a mystery, to which Mr Daventry has the key. The man isto some extent in his puwer. When he pleaded io me to he'p him, he confessed something like that. I did not turn a deaf ear, and his gratitude is boundless. I think you may trust him, Percy."

He waa not at all interested in the subject, and never remembered what his answer was. He did not see the disappointment, the misery i n Constance Glinton's eyes, he did not hear the mournful note in her sweet voice. 'I will leave you now, Percy," she said. 'I think you told me that you were very busy.' There was the faintest touch of irony in her tones. 'Yes, dear—-' He paused, and then added:;'l am going away for a day or two to-morrow. I know that it is the last thing I should do in the circumstances; but I am bound by a sacred promise —a promise which I dare not break." 'You are going to Llanthorne again?' 'Yes,' he stammered flushing hotly. He looked away over the trees. The moon had risen above them, and ,'was glowing like a silver lamp in a deeply purple sky. 'Yes; and if anything goes wrong, you can telegraph to me, Constance. Ido not anticipate any change in condition of the

BY *'. L. DACRE, Author of—The Doctor's Secret, A Case for the Court, Sir John's Heiress, A Loveless Marriage, Tr en holme's Trmt, Etc.

CHAPTER X

carl. I truly hope that there will be none; and my dearest wish is that he may recover sufficiently to enjoy years of life. The doctors have already blundered, The result may be still more surprising.' was looking up at him mournfully. Was it possible that he was trying to deceive her? 'I am sorry that you are going to Llanthorne,' she gently said; 'and the business which takes you there must be very urgent indeed." 'You are right, Contsince, and some day I will tell you all about it.' 'You cannot tell me now?' she pleadingly questioned. '.No; I want you to think well of me a little longer.' Again he looked away—he"cou!ri not face her. 'Think well of you, Percy Ycu foiget that I love, you, darling, and nothing on earth can destroy my trust[in you.' 'You are a noble woman!' he huskily exclaimed. She raised her lips to his and kissed him tenderly, tfe felt her tears upon his hand, and called himself a traitor. "ih<n she was gone, and he believed he was alone.

'SHE WILL RFGARD ME AS A MONSTEU OF INIQUITY!

Was ever man placed in such a position before,?' Lord Percy CI ff.,rd thought. His face was haggard in the moonlight, his eyes weie bloodshot and weary. The mental aeo'.yvras almost too great for him to endure. I must fly from the danger here, iry poor little Hildred!'

He strode to the French window —it was standing half rpen. The 3weet evening breeze cook<i his hot brow; the music of the waving trees southed his throbbirg qrain.

"Dear little Hildred!' he murmured aeain.

A shadow fell across the balecny upon which he was standing, and a man passed before him. It seemed as if an ugly black cloud had for the moment obscured the beautiful light of, the moon and stars. 'Well, Percy, don't you know rce, old chap?' It waa Owen Daventry's voice, Owen Daventrj's slight, well knit form; Owen Daventry's smiling hateful face. Clifford drew back, a bitter imprecation upon his lips, his right hand upraised. I 'Good heavens, Percy! What is the | matter?' Daventry cried. 'Are you rehearsing the part of melodramic villain? Pardon me old man; I know that you must be awfully upset by your dad's illness. I heard about it myself only a few hours since, and have hurried to the Park as fast as an express train could carry me.' 'Liar!' Clifford retorted savagely, and Daventry retreated in dismay. 'Are you mad?' he haughtily asked. 'I have no desire to try my strength with you, Percy; I am a much smaller man, and I have a little lespect for my dying uncle. It is not brave to abuse and bully a man without first giving a reason. Tell rce what I have done; and, if I cannot satisfactorily refute any charge, the forfeit shall be a friendship, an affection upon my part which has existed since you were a little child. I am a pcor dependant,' he added, with well assumed bitterness, 'and I know it to my cost; but, poor as I am, no man living shall say that it caused the loss of my self repsect!' 1 Percy's passion rapidly cooled. He was ever generous and ready to I forgive. What proof had he that Daventry was guilty of the shock which had striken Lord Manthorpe to the heart? What was the word of Stoner worth —the man who, upon his own confession, had sold himself to the highest bidder? Hut then there was the annoyance tu which Constance Glinton had *,been subjected. She hated and feared Owen Daventry. He would as soon have doubted the angels in heaven as that noble and perfect woman.

'I am waiting,' Daventry observed, 'and unless you clasp my hand it> friendship, I swear that I will never cross your threshold again! What such a course will cost me in agony of mind, Heaven and myself alone know!'

Clifford was deeply touched. 'I have reason to believe,' he said quietly, 'that you were present when my father was seized by the last fatal attack—that you were the cause of it—and that, without raising an alarm, you deliberately left him to die., unmoved. TO BE CONTINUED