TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10405, 28 August 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER V.—Continued

"Quite— quite!" She did not loo.c at him. "Yes, I understand what Vv must mean to you. A door you could not batter down has been slint in your face all your life, and now suddenly it is set wide open. Is tihat_it?" ■ "That is something like ite." ."Ah!" Sho looked at him. "I thought so when I first heard of tho ait oration in Sir* Bernard's will, and was heartily glad to know that you would be master of Redbourne. Derek Wilioughby deserved nothiua,. Why should I not say so?" She laughed a brief, bitter laugh. Her eyes were blazing, her lips tight pressed together into a scarlet line. In a flash a thought came to Severance as he looked at her. Had raine Latouohe, been at the bottom of the di -inheriting of Derek Wilioughby? Her gaze met his, she seemed to read his thoughts as she had read them once before.

"I am indiscreet sometimes," »he said coldly. "I might just as well, mielit I not, have left you to find out that I hate Derek Wilioughby? As you have already discovered, I daro sav, that good little Mr Bethell hates me. Why? Why do any of'us nate and love? But I will tell you if you like. He is fond of Clare—everybody is fond of Clare —and he thinks that my influence over her is bad." She smiled ironically. "I have my own best reply to that. Wo have been ',6gether ail our lives, and my influence has left Clare what she is—-an angel 1 But I beg your pardon—l am keeping you, and she may want me. The mother is foolish, and .troubles her. She did not care for Sir Bernard—she seldom saw him —but when she is awak<? she considers it right to cry." She moved to the door. The contemptuous satire of her tone and look had annoyed Severance again. "YoiK-have lived at; Redbptujne as long as Miss Throckmorton, it seems' he saidMi'You, jjoo. mustifeeltacutely the descbh of Sir BernardV'Miss La-, touche." "•■' ..-"" '>■•■'.'■':■

She stopped and looked at him steadily., '•' V'-' "riove.Qlare;" she,said'?' slowly and deliberately. "I have' acquainted you with my sole merit in that way, Mr Severance. Please to understand that I lay claim to no other and no more."

CHAPTER V

The rest of the day passed monotonously to the new owner of Redbourne. Neither Clare nor her foster sister appeared at the dreary dinner to which only he and the lawyer sat down, and not all the latter's ready talk could make the meal otherwise than woefully long and dismal. The spirit of the dead Sir Bernard might have invisibly presided at the meal. Once, not without intention, Severance brought the conversation round to the subject of Lorraine Latouche, but Mr Bethell was not responsive. She was a strange girl, he said, .and. very peculiar; it. had always puzzled him that Mass dare should love her so devotedly as she edly did. And then, relenting, in,;ii& kindly way, he added that, strange as Miss Latouche might bo, it was o'nly doing her bare justice to say that she was passionately attached to her foster sister. ' a " :> . '* ' Severance spoke presently of Derek Wilioughby, but there was evidently no connection between the two names' in the lawyer's mind. He changed the subject by speaking of the anonymous letter, which he asked to look at onco more, and examined with eager interest and curiosity. Severance asked if he thought it hod been written by a man or a woman, only to hear his own opinion repeated, that it might have been penned by either. , '"'

At length the. evening drew to <t close, and," having seeij th§ lawyer drive awiay,in his gig%6ni the great hall,door, with a pheerful promise., of an early return the'h'ext day, Severance resolved to go to his .room., ~-~\ The, depression which had assailed him upon entering the house was stoli;heayy upon him, and the jibjo'Sglit of Pandering alone ih'iae great, un* familiar rooms was not attractive. He called to a passing footman, and bade him show .him the way—he had not yet mounted the staircase. As the man obeyed, and he followed, there again struck upon his ear the sound which had made him wince half * dozen times already—the howl of the mourning dog. He paused at the entrance of the gallery.

"Where is Sir Bernard lying?" he asked in a whisper. "Across the landing ,at the. end there, sir; The housekeeper has put yqur beclgoom on this side, sir, nearly oppggitei All ,the*West*'bedrboms are on/this* floor, but if- you*would like s</me other/oom " ;/ "Not does not matter in fine-least-.' But that poor brute of a •fcfog.l/Cannot you get:it away ; ?" ,\ sTt'm afraid not, sir. He will hot ..budge, not even fpr'Miss Lorraine." They had reached the great landing as he spoke, and by the cluster of electric lights whioh made it brilliant, Severance saw the dog—a large liver and white pointer—lying crouched a- . gainst the door at the farther end, too absorbedjn its grief it seemed, even to raise its head at the sound of a strange foot. The man looked at the animal pityingly. "He was always with Sir Bernard, you see, sir," he said. "He was like a mad creature just at first, and he would have bit anybody but Miss Lor-

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

By CARL SWERDNA, Author of "A Mere Ceremony."

raine who tried to get him away from J the body. But she has a wonderfui way with dogs, and talks to them as though they were human. If you think the dog will disturb you, sir, and you would like us to try again to get him away " "No, no!" Severance hastily said. "Leave the poor beast alone. He is not likely to disturb me much. Good night!" Tho man withdrew, and Severance, after glancing round the handsome room in which be found himself, looked at his watch and experienced some dismay. Barely eleven o'clock, his usual time for bed a good two hours off,' sleep sis far from his eyes as he had ever known it to be, and the depression ■■which had weighed upon him downstairs .still present. What was to be done. For a man whose cigar was Ids best companion and solace, the question admitted of but one reply He lighted a cigar, opened the window of the dressing room, and sat down to smoke. , He had plenty to occupy his mind, and it was busy enough. His thoughts wandered from Mr Bethell and his curious anxiety for the safe-keeping of the will, to the no less curious anonymous letter, and his instinctive doubt of Derek Wilioughby. Were they doubts without foundation, doubts ;which did an unknown man a cruel wrong? Surely not, for the trend of the lawyer's thoughts had been pretty ptain to understand. Who had written that strange warning? At whom did it point? Had it been penned by a man's, or a woman's hand? Was it a hoax, as Moorfield suggested ? Had Mr Bethell told the exact truth when, in reply to his question, he had declared that it was merely in accordance with a suddenly taken whim of Sir Bernard's—always a crotchety' man —that the will had been sent "to him for safe keeping?-' Pooh! Speculation was a bootless thing, and certainly the will was safs .enpugjt npw!; v. ■ >, He .started up. As he h"ad ; been aroused last night from his musing, at the window of the London chambers, so he was aroused!how. ."A.hand tapped suddenly and softly at the door. "I beg your pardon, sir," a woman's voice said outside. "Can I speak to you for a moment, if you please " The voice, raised little above a cautious whisper, was strange" to him, but Severance, answering by opening the door, at once recognised the .speaker as Mrs Vassell, the housekeeper. Although he had caught only one brief glimpse of her, peering uncannily down upon him from the gloom of the gallery, it was impossible to mistake that gaunt, hollow-cheeked face, with its pale intensity of expression. As he looked into her large eyes now, so oddly lustrous and eager, he involuntarily drew back a little. She was not a very prepossesing woman, was his first thought. And what could she want with him, he wondered, at such an hour.

■ '"You are ihe housekeeper, I believe*?" he said. "Mrs Vassell, is not? What can I do for you P" v He spoke courteously and kindly enough,; but his surprise wa splainly visible in his face. "I ask pardon for venturing to knock, sir, but I could see that your light was not out. I am sorry that there ha« been a mistake. This telegram came a good couple of hours ago, but, through the foolishness of one of the maids, was overlooked. You will understand, I am sure, sir, that the servants have not been themselves to-day." She held out the telegram, and Severance, taking it, glanced at the name. It bore. "This is addressed to Mr BethelL" "I know it is, sir. But, excuse me, it would not come here unless it was about some business. So Ithougnti it "best to* bring it to you. And it struck that.it might"perhaps, be from Mr .Willoughby—that is,- Sir* Derek." .v.. - '■■ ■'] "Ah,,yes! So it mayH':, |

He tore open the envelope, read the few'words of the message, and glanced at the housekeeper again. "You are quite right, Mrs Vassell. It is from Sir Derek. He will reach here about noon to-morrow."

' Mrs Vassell showed no signs of going, but ,sfc«od 'looking' at-him, her Politely,' butiresolutely, he tried to get rid of her. "The delay an the telegram doesn't matter in the'least," he said, "As you say, doubtless the whole household is disorganised to-day. I am obliged to you fro bringing it to me. Good night." He moved to the door and held t open. Instead of passing out 'he housekeeper suddenly laid her hand upon his arm. , "I hope you will be careful, sir," she said, in an eager whisper. "Pray, pray, do! One never knows what may happen without care. You are a lawyer,: and you must know that better tlhan I, and ,1. know, it ,well. : Wo look into the past and see t>he wrong step, but it is too late then. I have done that." She drew back, dropping her hand, composing herself by a violent effort. 'Excuse me, sir. I've liv-'d many years—nearly all my life—in this house, and only wanted to wish you a happy life here as its master. It's well that you should be its master. I beg pardon for the liberty. Good night!" (To be continued.)