NEIL MALLOW'S SIN.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10136, 5 November 1910, Page 2

NEIL MALLOW'S SIN.

(OUR SERIALS

BY JOHN A. PETERS. Author of "Married at Midnight," "Two Odd Girls," etc., etc., etc.

CHAPTER I. ONLY A PICTURE. Attn- a second perusal of the carefully worded yet impassioned letter Randal Drake had sent her, Christine Marsh quietly folded and returned it to its crested envelope. The question it contained v.-as worthy of consideration. Ho begged her to bo his wife—to reign as mistress in one of New York's most aristocratic mansions; and it she bade him hope —if she were not so cruel as to sink him in the very slough of despair—to wear the cluster of fragrant, pure white hyacinths which accompanied his declaration or love, that evening at Mrs Linley's. "'Wear the hyacinths," he wrote, , "and I shall be the happiest man in existence, for I shall know that you will consent to be my wife; refuse and I will he miserable beyond words to describe.' ' Should she, or should she not, wear the blossoms? Never in her life had she been in such a quandary. One moment she had almost made up her mind to knot them together at her white throat; the next she scouted the idea as absurd, and vowed that she would not appear at Mrs Lieley's that night with them. Finally she temporized matters in dashing up aa note in which she socilited time to ponder the momentous question, adding: "I respect you more than any man of my acquaintance; your society .1 find congenial; but I am not sure that I love you as a woman ought to love the man she marries. Give me time—a month in which to make up my mind.'' After dispatching the noic .~.'ne would have given much to recall it. Why such unnecessary delay, when, eventually she should answer yes? To be sure, he was not her ideal beau of a man, but he was handsome, well-proportioned, agreeable and immensely rich. For his riches she cared not. There was no necessity to sacrifice herself on the altar of Mammon, inasmuch as she was one of the wealthiest heiresses in the city. "Other and,more prudential motives must weigh .with me, ere I accept Randal Dm!:*?," she murmured at last, rising uneasily to her feet. ""I have dreamed of a man so different ; of a stronger, grander, less.submissive man, whose wooing would be fierce and sweet—whose slightest law I should have no hesitancy to obey. Does such a one exist for me? If so, when, where, and how shall I meet this prince—this arbiter of my destiny? I am no automaton, kept from dead inertness by the intricate contrivance of the human mechanism, but a spirited woman full of life and buoyancy; stiii, I often wonder, as my admirers wonder, whether or nr/lr I have a heart—whether I am capahb of experiencing that grand passion designated love ? For nineteen years I have known no feeling sweeter or warmer than that of friendship.' Someone has said that loves comes to every woman, happy or unhappy. Does it? Is it an integral part of life, and does no woman escape it? Bah! how sentimental I am getting. I wish I hadn't received Handal Drake's letter. 1 ' Christine Marsh was the only child of a millionaire. Her mother had died when she was a mere child, and her father, who had lavished a world of love upon his wife, had never married again. People said he had buried his heart with his fair young bride; for, from the day they they laid her to rest 5n Greenwood, he had never been seen to laugh or smile. His little girl had blossomed into a lovely woman, with her every wish, however extravagant, gratified / ere hardly expressed. She had had the best of instructors, a most estimable aunt to care for her, but she could not remember the time her father had kissed or caressed her. Invar- , iably kind, but the most undemonstrative of men, who seemed to care for no pursuit but the all engrossing one of money-making. He had amassed a princely fortune by speculation. The shadows of night were falling thick and fast; they crept into the room where the girl sat—a room that would have charmed an artist by its dark, rich colouring aricl artistic furnture. The girl herself was beautiful beyond compare—a ta.i, stately, Northern brunette, with the gracious bearing of a queen. A fail- oval face, the cheeks delicately tinged 'with pink; a sweet, vivid red mouth ; a daintily cut nose; and hair and eyes as'dark as night itself. Fast, faster stole the shadows into the pretty room ; the maid entered and lighted the gas; then Christine knew it as time to begin to dress. "Felicie," she said in her cheerful voice, "arrange mo sumptuously tonight. T want to come out like a fullfledged butterfly. Envious persons are constantly denouncing the plainness of my attire; so, for once, T will make them open their eyes— \

fairly dazzle them with my splendor. Bring mo my diamonds." Tlio astonished maid hastened to obey. She brought the casket, und took the costly gems out from their bed of ruby velvet, where they fiash~ed and burned restlessly for their native soil of the skies. Christine took them in her hands, held them up to the light, where they glowed with iridescent brightness, then tossed them iu a heap on the table. "How they shine! How the glitter!" she cried. "They arc truly magnificent, and will make mo. look like some Eastern queen. You poor, ill-used hyacinths—you dainty white darlings," tenderly caressing the scented blossoms, "you cannot form a part of my toilette to-night. Now, Felicie, do your best,' 'and she gave herself wholly into the hands of the ; French maid, who wt?:t rapturously to work. For six mouths had the diamonds been in the possession of the lady, and not once had she taken the trouble to put them on. "No, no," she would say to the deft-handed Parisian, ■ "flowers are preferable to diamonds for so young a girl, and it was very foolish of papa to purchase them." And until to-night she had steadily adhered to her resolution not to wear them. A daughter of the Orient she looked indeed when her maid pronounced her "ready." She was superb! Her lissome shape was draped in a roseate-tinted satin, the shimmering folds of the fan-shaped train trailing far behind her on the carpet; over it fell a skirt of white cobwebby lace, as fine and as exquisitely woven as if it were some of the handiwork of the Arachnida. Around her neck and arms the priceless jewels ran like rivers of flame; with her every movement they refracted sparks of light they made her fairly dazzling. When she entered Mrs Linely's room that night she created a decided sensation. A rejected suitor, following with his glance the graceful movement of the figure, muttered: "She wears the stones to-night she ought always to wear, for they are emblamatical of herself—hard, brilliant, soulless." Randal Drake came eagerly forward, more than ordinarily handsome, an eager look of expectancy on his blond faco. The note had reached him safely, but somehow, despite the unsatisfactory manner in which it was worded, he had a vague hope that she would relent and wear his fragrant gage d'amour, and that her plea for time, in which to make up her mind, was purposely made to tantalize him. "A woman who hesitates is lost," he thought; "and queenly Christine Marsh must in the end become ray wife. Oh if ,sho does not wear my hyacinths!" But no fragrant blooms were vis- ( iblc on her person. Instead, she was ablaze with diamonds. The expectant look died out of his face; his blue eyes were reproachful in their glance as he fastened them upon i! ': hcires. "My little offering did not hnd favour in your sight, Christine," he said. "The hyacinths were too unassuming in their prettiness to please the fastidious taste of a Now York belle—they would not contrast favourably with the flashing gems with which you arc decked." "Nay, monsieur," in a rather coquettish tone for her. "You err egregiously. I would not sully their sweetness by letting the fire of these highly polished stones touch them. Did not my answer meen with your approbation? Oh, man, so hard to please, it was equivalent to She sto;rK\l abruptly, leaving the man in agonizing suspense. What was she about to add? As she did not proceed and the pink drifted out of her cheeks, leaving them marble white, he shivered apprehensively. "How tantalizing you are, Christine ! Were you about to drop a word of encouragement? Or, did you hesitate because you dreaded to doom me to a life of misery ?" "Hush!" and she gave him a playful tap on the shoulder with her white foa tliery fan; "your face wears a tragical expression, and Emma Roberts—how she admires you!—is eying you uneasily, fearing that you are on the point of making me a proposal of marriage. Desist, MiDrake, I beg! Wait—wait till the month is up—till 3*olll* probation is at an end. Are you fond of studying photographs? Then turn over the leaves of this album, and if you happen to come across an interesting countenance, something out of the ordinary, draw my attention to it. Her manner was so naive, that unconsciously he smiled and prepared to do as he was bidden. He had drawn her apart from the rest, near to a gem of a table of verd-antiquc marble, upon which, in the midst of a heap of stereoscopic views, Jay a photographic album, lie now wheelop up air easy chair for her, and while she reposed in its luxurious depths, endeavoured to make himself as eiitertainable as possible. (To bo Continued.)