A TERRIBLE MISTAKE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10073, 20 June 1910, Page 2

A TERRIBLE MISTAKE

XXVI. -Continued. ; i i "I have told you," Mrs Frost continued, "that I mortally oftended my father by ray marriage, and he died a few months later. .1 think .that his death was the bitterest drop in my cup of misery. My only brother declared, that he would never forgive me. He was a loving, affectionate son, and believed that his father could do no wrong—that his judgment could not err. He called me a murderess, and swore that he woul! never look apoa my face again. When ilook back upon the happy days of my childhood, and remember that we shared the same play room, the same delights, the same little sorrows, it seems almost inconceivable that brother and sister shculd in latter years become so utterly estrang ed. I have toiled for my living for many long year 3, while he is rich, honoured, and tiUed. My brother is Sir James Harding, of Hardline Manor, in Sussex." The latt words were spoken half dreamily; then the lady rose with a brisk movement. "My dear, " she added, "I have not speken so freely to a living soul since my idol wa3 shattered." "It is hard that your brother should be so unkind," Hildred said softly. "I never bad a brother or a sister, and perhaps it is better s:o Mrs Frost, you are a noble, courageous woman. Taking note of your strength, you make me feel strong. I do not believe that another living creature was afflicted with such woe as mine " ''Our own cross is always the heaviest to bear. You will walk with me into the city, dear?" "Yes—l will accompany you." There was no difficulty in settling the question of renting the smail furnished cottage near Deal. For some time Mrs Fiost had been in correspondence with the agent, and this was not their first business transaction together. She had already hj, spected the hous ; , and been provided with an inventory of the furniture. In every way it was eminently satisfactory for her purpos . It was her dying child's with to be within sound of the murmuring sea, and to breaihe the fragrance of fields and flowers. "1 have the key," Mrs Frost said to Hilled, when they left the agent's office. "And when I surrender it again oh, horrible thought—my darliug Eve will be dead!" Her lips quivered, and the hot tears rushed to her eyes. She brushed them away with a resolute hand, and smiled into her companion's pitiiul face. "You see, dear, I am a coward sometimes. The infirmary is not far from here; it is in a quiet street off the Strand. We will walk; the fresh autumn air is so crisp and exhilarating." When they arrived at the institution, Hildred was shown intoa waiting room a while Mrs Frost disappeared into a great silent passage. There was something horribly depressing in the very air of the building. The attendants moved about solemnly and quickly; huge doors swung to and fro with a sudden, almost noiseless movement. Now and again a sad eyed visitor with pale face and tremulous accents, sought admittance, perhaps in obedience to some fatal call. The minutes dragged along until ' the hands of a great clock in the vestibule pointed to the hour of noon; and then Mrs Frost glided softly into the waiting room, and mutely touch ed Hildred upon the arm. From the home of sickness and suffering they passed out into the busy streets teeming with health, life and vigour. They did not notice the curious glances that were directed toward them. The simple beauty of the girl with the pathetic blue eyes, the saintly resignation in the lace of the agonised mother, caused people tu wonder what their sorrow could be. Not until they were within the quiet of their temporary asylum did Mrs Frost spsak, and he voice was low and sad. "I have seen my darling child, Hildred, and she greeted me with a smile upon her angel face. Dear Heaven, I feared that my heart would burst with grief. The doctors , had told me tu be prepared for a change; but they did not speak of her wasted white hands, her waxen face. For a little while I think that'

BY *'. L. DACSE, Author of— l he Poctor's Secret, A Case for the Court, Sir John's Heiress, A Loveless Marriage, Trenliolme's Trust, Etc.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

my tears fell like rain. At last I told her that I had come to Uka her away to the beautiful fragrant country—to the glorious, murmuring; sea. She laughed in childish glee. 'Dear mamma,' she'replied 'my dreams of the clover fields, the waving green grass, the rus3et hedge rows.and the warbling of happy bird 3 —my beautiful dreams have gruv»n dimmer atfd dimmer, for an angel hand seems to be ever beckoning me to a brighter But you have come for me, and Heaven will let me stay with you a little longer.' " The niothor broke into passionate sobs, and then she continued with fierce resentment, "And money might have saved her life—would at least have prolonged it, and given my darling happiness! Why should I not have -lad that which is rightfully mine? Is my brother so utterly heartless and selfi3h?" She wrung her bands in bitterest anguish; and now Hildred became the comforter. She twined her soft arms about the elder woman's neck and drew the gray head down upon her shoulder. "I am tortured beyond endurance!" moaned Mrs Frost. "Oh, Hildred, my dear, J am becoming an old woman, and my heart cries out for love —for rest! You will be a daughter to me--say that you will not me?" "I will never leave you," the girl replied. "I think that I love you now as I should have loved my o»n mother, bad I ever knows her." "My self-reliant and haughty spirit is broken for a little while. It is only the strongest natures which know intense joy, which suffer the keenest torture. You will call me 'mother,' Hildred; for soon you will be my only child. My darling Eve is slipping from the world—it is only a question of days now. This evening we will take possession of our new home, and prepare it for her coming. On Wednesday next she will leave the infirmary forever." And that day the poor unhappy young wife entered upon a new life; and a tender love crept into her hear for the lone woman whose sympathy had been so sweet to her. '

AT ROSE COTTAGE.

London and its teeming millions were left behind. The afternoon express rushed Into fresher, sweeter air; the autumn skies changed to a richer blue, and the light clouds in the wake of the sinking sun glowed like a forest of fire. At last the.train ran into Deal Station, and Hildred heard the distant murmur of the sea. Oh, the sweet, familiar sound! A rush of tears came into her eyes—a pang of bitter pain shot through her heart. "Is this Llanthorne?" she asked tremulously. "Llanthorne, my dear?" was Mrs Frost's brisk reply. "Of course not! This is Deal, Llanthorne is a long way further up tne coast." "I forgot," stammered Hildred. There was a dazed expression in her eye 3. "Some day I should like to see Llanthorne again—when I am very old. I could not bear it now. The sobbing of the distant sea made me feel faint for the moment." TO BE CONTINUED