PRIMROSE DELORAINE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10286, 14 July 1911, Page 2

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.--Contuu:ed

t-'.'j l Gerard laughed. "Who can say? ' ho answ red. "It seems lard to undersv uul. dvo&ivt it? .Rut the fact re mails liat ho does loavo it; yd there's, no disputing the fact, you know. The Eversdenv's have been quiet and comin'.f.f.lacx' crough, as a rule, hut the preseta Lord Eversdeno takes after his mother's people. They woro always a wild lot, and he saoms to have inherited their wildno s. But he is coming hack now, and I hope it is to he for good this time. He's a very good fellow, and as popular as they are made." Then his tone changed. "Conio, Primrose," he said, "wo will bs late for the meet if we don't hurry up." He quickened his pace as he spoke, lAit Primrose bung back for a moment. Was it fancy, she asked herself, or had she indeed caught sight of a man in the park, half hidden by a thick cluster of bushes, standing,' looking toward the castle —a man whose figure looked oddly familiar. No, it was no fancy. She could see clearly as she leant forward in her saddle. There was a man there, just inside the park, and he was gazing intently toward the imposing edifice of Eversdene Castle, as it rose, gray and stately, on the background of green woods. And as she lopked he turned his head, and she caught sight of his face ,and it was the face of the man whom she had noticed on board the steamer on her homeward voyage. What was he doing there ? she asked herself, in bewildered surprise; and why was he hiding and watching Eversdene Castle? What did it mean —

face, never to hear his voice, never to feel the clasp of his strong hands, why then —then Sir Gerard's \ oice recalled her wandering thoughts, and brought her to the present again with a start. "Como along, Primrose," he said, "there are a lot of people here that I should like you to know. Come along, and I'll trot you round before the hounds are started.

Primrose went with him obediently, and was made known to a great many strangers, and then, to her great relief, the master of the hounds rode away, and there was a general movement.

The sport that followed was very good, and Sir Gerard piloted Primrose skilfully across the country that he knew so well, and she thoroughly enjoyed the run, for the sporting instinct was keen within her.

An hour or two later, muddy and tired, they rode up the drive to the manor, and were met in the hall by Mrs Vivian, arrayed in a most attractive gown of pink chiffon and silver embroidery that took Sir Gerard's breath away, and riveted faster than ever the chains that held him to her.

"What sort of a day have you had?" she asked, and smiled her frivolous smile.

Sir Gerard smiled back at her, with the old, tender light in his eyes, as he answered.

"Come, Primrose!" Sir Gerard called out again, turning round to look for her. "We shall be late."

Instantly Primrose cantered up to his side.

When they got to the meet the hounds were already there, and Primrose smiled with delight at her first sight of ,an English meet of hounds. She thought, as she looked at the varied scene, that she had never seen anything prettier. And, in truth, it was very picturesque. All around her the bright scarlet coats of the members of the hunt flashed, mingling with the brown, chestnut, gray, black and white of the restless horses. There was a gray mare near her in the crowd that reminded her oddly of Captain Jack's famous mount, and as she looked at its gray satin coat her thoughts strayed back to that other mare, and she recalled her reckless ride for life in the light of the Australian moon.

Oh, the wild excitement of that reckless race against time through the moonlight! Oh, the dash, the dsiring,; the thrill of it all I As she recail|d-the exciting incident, it all canie back-to her as fresh as ever- —the wild dash for .freedom along the rugged mountain track that grew more and more ragged as they went on, the moonlit sky, the whispering trees, the black shadows of the giant boulders that loomed darkly over their path, the long, lithe swing of the gray mare's stretching gallop] as she raced forward, straining eagerly at her bridle, the strong olasp of Captain Jack's €\ncircling arms, the low words that he now and then whisperel in her ear. Would she ever forget that daring | ride, she wondered, and all that happened during her last days out there? Would she eyer forget the loss of her kind and beloved father P Would she ever forget Poker Bill's hated attentions and lawless actions ? Would she ever forget Eve and their strange, talk in the gloomy cave in the mountains in which she had been -imprisoned in misery, hopelessness and despair? Would she ever forget Captain Jack, the man who loved her, and whom she loved? The man who rescued her from an unspeakable fate, and carried her to safety, and who had been so strong, pitiful and tender, to her in her helplessness. The man whom she longed to see more than anything in the wide world, but whom she feared that she would never sec again. What a terrible fear that, was! How it chilled her he&rt and sank into her soul, and seemed to' strike ajb the very root of her life itself. What a terrible fear! And suppose it was to be realised—what then P She dared not trust herself to think of that. She dared not trust herself to think of all that the realisation of that fear would to her. If she was never to meet' Captain Jack again, never to see his J

"The best day of the season," he said, 'fast going, and plenty of it. Primrose's mare is a ripper, too —a real dandy. You ought to try her yourself, Valerie."

With all his" heart he wished that she could have reigned at Lesbie Ma*npr—queen of his heart and home. But it was not to be.

The dreams that found lodgment in his brain were only dreams, ©ould never be reality, because of the barrier that held him from the woman he so passionately loved—the barrier that could not be broken down.

He was not the only one at the manor who harboured dreams that were only dreams. Mrs Vivian, too, in the scented seclusion, of her own luxurious room, saw visions of the day when the only thing her frivolous, butterfly heart really desired in lifedesired wtih a deadly intentness that sometimes almost frightened would be'hers. And that was only a dream, too, as yet.

Primrose, kneeling down at her open window, just before she retired, looked out over the sleeping garden that lay around Lesbie Manor, and lifted her eyes to the blue, wintry sky, where the scintillating stars .shone diamond bright, and thought of the man whose eyes had told her that he loved her, though his words had not.

All the width of the high seas, the width of the world, lay'between them now; but she could not forget him, even for an hour. If she might only aee him again, some day, she prayed silently, as she knelt there; her hands clasped, her eyes gazing out dreamily only be together again, some day, he and she.

Long she knelt there, dreaming, her gaze on the silent scene without, and then, with a sigh, she rose slow-

(To be Continued*

"No, thank you," laughed Mrs Vivian, "I have no desire to, risk my neck on that fiery animal which Primrose seems to delight in riding. The motor car is quite good enough for me." -• She smiled again as she moved away to take her place at the tea table, around which the house party had already gathered, and Sir Gerard's eyes followed her with open admiration. She made such a fascinating picture as she presided over that dainty teatable, with its shining silver and its quaint old china. The fire beams danced brightly on her tiny figure in its shimmering pink and silver draperies, and on the doll-like prettiness of her tiny face, with its soft, rose flushed cheeks and radiance of forget-me-not eyes, and flaxen hair.

She was such a charming hostess, and as Sir Gerard looked at her he felt, as he had often felt before, that she would be an ideal mistress for bis old home. No one could ever fill the place that she might have done had things been different. No one could ever be to him what she might have been.