PRIMROSE DELORAINE
OUR SERIAL.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
By MAISIE PENDENNIS, Author of "Sir Reginald's Whim," "The Forgotten Heir," "Rival Beauties,' 'etc.
CHAPTER X.—Continued. ] The hall was full of tho scent of ] violets, and Primrose paused as Sir | ■ Gerard led her in and looked round j her delightedly. I "What a prettv house!" she ex- [ claimed. "And how glad lamto he here!" ' , . ~j ' Sir Gerard smiled at her in ms j kind, grave way. ' "I hope you will he very happy here," ho said. "But J know Mrs Vivian will make you so." { Then Valerie Vivian herself appeared on the scene, a bewildering vision of fashionable daintiness in a clinging, sheathlike gown of soft violet cashmere, branded here and there with quaint embroideries, and softened with touches of filmy lace, through which her skin shone dazzling white. Primrose caught her ro.ith in a little gasp of wondering admiration. Siu. had never veeu anyone like that before. , . .- As Mrs Vivian welcomed her with friendly, caressing words and butterfly kisses, and she realised all the luxury nnd beauty of her new a sudden Sense of comfort and well-be-m'ff stole' over her. Her past life out iifthe wilds of the Australian bush had been rough enough, and even stormv, but now it seemed to her that nothing but ease and rest lay hefore her. Tho stormy clouds that had shadowed her pathway she had left behind her on the other side of the world. England held nothing but sunshine for her. So she mused, wandering happily about her cozy bedroom, with its dainty accessories; but if she had only known it, the storm clouds that she thought were pa*t and gone lowered more darkly over her now than they had lowered in Australia. She had left Australia and the old life, but the new country and the new life would be no less exciting, no less thrilling than they- Fate > the Fate that shows neither pity nor remorse, had marked her for its own; and, like a grim Juggernaut, was bearing slowly but surely down upon it-, helpless, hapless victim, who waited, all unconscious of her doom. Three months later Sir Gerard and | Primrose were riding together down ! the drive at Lesbie Manor, on their j way to the meet, and Primrose smiled at Sir Gerard a- 1 ? she leaned forward j and patted her horse's shining, neck I with her little, gloved hand. ] "You don't know how delightful it feels to be in the saddle again," she said, and laughed a low, happy., contented laugh. "Sir Gerard smiled in response. He always, somehow, felt inclined to smile at Primrose. Her girlish frankness, and her unaffected delight- in everything around her, and. all that she saw in this country that was as yet so strangely new to her, was as refreshing as it was irresistible. "I suppose you did considerable riding at Red Tree Camp?" he said. As he spoke his dark eyes rested approvingly on the girlish figure in the neat,- dark habit that fitted its graceful suppleness to perfection. Primrosew as a born horsewoman, and; she made a pretty picture as she sat light-' ly as a bird on the beautiful, highspirited chestnut horse that Sir Gerard had bought for her. The bright autumn sunlight fell softly on her pretty face in its framework of ruffled hair, and danced in her blue eyes, and lingered on the wild rose bloom of her satin skin. Such a pretty picture, .and, manlike, Sir Gerard liked a pretty picture. "I suppose you did considerable riding out at Red Tree Camp," he said again, as Primrose did not answer, andthen he becamegrave. "What a terrible life it must have been for a girl," he went on. Then he smiled again involuntarily. "I suppose you were a sort of queen, out there, Primrose, among all those wild, rough men."
Primrose laughed softly, but the laugh ended in a sigh. "Yes," she said gently. "They were very good to me, and I loved the life and all its dear associations. I >wish—l wish——" -
She broke off, and her eyes grew dark and troubled with the ever-pres-ent memory of all that had once been and, could never be again. It was three months now since she had bidden farewell to the only home that she had ever known, and started on her journey to a home that shs knew not. Three months since sha had severed forever the links that had bound her all her life to the little hut where she and her father had spent so many happy hours, and had drifted across the seas to forge new links in an unknown world. Three months since she had left air the old lifoihehind her, and stepped with faltering feet into the new life that held so many strange possibilities for her. The:ltiew\ l:fe that she had dreaded with an unspeakable dread. Now she had been for several weeks a stranger in a strange land, and she was beginning to find everything very pleasant. She could never forget the past. She had loved it so, and she could never forget it as long as she lived. , But still she did not dislike the present, and her sunny nature already had asserted itself. Sir Gerard had been very kind to her all through those first few weeks in England, and had done all that was in his power to help her to forget her grief and loneliness, and she liked him, and was very grateful to him for his kindness. Mrs Vivian had been
kind, too, in her way, but somehow Primrose felt that she could never like her or feel grateful to her in any way as she liked and felt grateful to Sir Gerard. She distrusted her, too. She distrusted her pretty, affected ways and caressing manner, and there was a note in her low, soft voice that did not seem to ring true. Sir Gerard,- of course, knew nothing of all this, and he was perfectly satisfied and pleased with the arrangement that he had made for his ward. He had been agreeably surprised on Primrose Deloraine's arrival in England to find that, far from being the harum-scarum young woman with a strong will of her own that he had predicted to Mrs Vivian, she was a pretty girl, fresh and charming ,with a dainty girlish fascination that was all* her own. He admired her beauty, and was thankful that she had turned out to be what* she was, and not a wild, untutored country girl as he had feared. ( He confided his gladness to Mrs Vivian on the day after Primrose's arrival at Pont Street. "I'm glad," he said, "for your sake as well as my own, Valerie, that Primrose is so charming. You won't mind taking her about and that sort of thing, will you?" Mrs Vivian smiled the frivolous,, fascinating smile that brought all her baby dimples deliciously into play. "Of course I shan't," she answered lightly. "And even if she hadn't been quite so pleasing I was quite ready to take her for your sake, Gerard, and to help you." Then she touched his hand lightly with her own. "But," she added and laughed, "don't forget to take my advice, Gerard, and don't forget that you are going to many her." And, with a wicked little twirl of her fan, and a still more wicked little smile, she left him to his.own reflectiors. But the smile faded from her face as she went upstairs to her dainty blue-and-white bedroom. "He shall marry her!" she said, and compressed her pearly white teeth tightly. "He shall marry her. And when he has married her —when he has married her— —-" f "I wonder when Lord Eversdene ! will come to England again," she added reflectively. The days had flown swiftly after that, and now Primrose and Mrs Vivian were among the house party assembled at Lesbie Manor for Christmas. It would be Primrose's first experience of an English Christmas, and she was looking forwar dto it with a great interest and curiosity. There was to be a dance, some theatricals, a hunt breakfast, and all sorts of festivities, and she was full of eager, girlish enthusiasm. Sir Gerard edged his horse a little i nearer to Primrose, and his dark eyes . questioned hers.
"What do you wish," he asked. "I hope you are happy her. I hope- " She interrupted him. "I am happy," she said, "but—but • » » . She broke off, and her lips quivered. Sir Gerard changed the subject with ready tact. "Isn't that a grand old place?" he remarked, and nodded toward a fine. picturesque building, surrounded bj a group of trees, that stood on their I right. j Primrose's eyes followed the direction of his glance. ' "How.beautiful!"yhe said. "I nevJ er knew until lately that there could be such lovely places as there are m England." "We haven't anything finer than that," SireGrard answered—"that is, anywhere in this neighbourhood. It is Eversdene Castle, 'the magnificent; ancestral home of the Earl of Eversdene,' as the guide book says, and it is famous from one end of England to the other for its beauty. He's a queer chap, Eversdene—the queerest of all queer chaps. He goes abroad by fits and starts, and stays away for months —sometimes for more than a year—and nobody knows where he is or what he's doing, or anything about him. Then suddenly when the fit takes him, he' comes home again as* suddenly as he went away. I heard a rumour the other day that he was expected back home soon, and I hope—-—" He broke off with an exclamation of surprise and pleasure. ' 'By Jove!" he. went on, "I believe rumour has spoken the truth of once. I believe Eversdene is coming home at last. All the shutters are open, and the place looks inhabited again, and the flag is flying. I must send up tonight, and find out the truth from the housekeeper." Primrose was still looking at the castle as it lay in the green shadow of surrounding trees, the bright sunlight playing on its lichen stained battlementsand beetling towers, and graystone turrets. "How could he ever leave it?" she said involuntarily. "How could he ever leave a beautiful home like that, I wonder?" Sir Gerard laughed (To be Continued).
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Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10285, 13 July 1911, Page 2
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1,721PRIMROSE DELORAINE Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10285, 13 July 1911, Page 2
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