TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10409, 1 September 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER Vll.—Continued

*"And did she?" Asked Severance. "Bid she? My dear fellow, if you knew the young lady you wouldn't ask the question. Of sourse she didn't! Amiability isn't among her virtues. Between she has a remarkably queer temper." "Possibly, but she is very much attached to Miss Throckmorton." "Oh, yes, she worships Clare!" Ho laughed.' "I don't mind owning that in a way I rather admire Miss Latouche myself. As long as she isn't his wife or his sister, a man likes a girl with a spice of the demon in her. And she has that." Severance returned no answer. His own part cf the dialogue had been blunt and brief ; Derek's tone displeased him. He preferred to drop the subject of Clare and her foster sister. He filled up the pause by lighting a cigar. Before the silence had grown long enough to be aAvkward, Willoughby broke it. "Speaking of Mrs Throckmorton and her daughter," he ssud, "I'd like to ask you a question, Severance." "By. all means." - "It's about the wilh I am cut out of it, I know, but I hope things -are not otherwise altered. Not that such' a thing is likely. Clare still has what sho had before, I infer?" "Upon my word, I don't know. It may seem strange to you, but I have not read the will. I understood, however, from Mr Bethell yesterday that Miss Throckmorton was properly provided for." "Ah! Probaly he meant that no alteration had been made. She was to draw five hundred a year from the estate, and her mother a similar sum, the whole to be Clare's at her mother's death. And they were to live at Redbourne if they chose —were to have a separate establishment in the east wing if they preferred it, I believe. So, "if you are contemplating matrimony, Severance, " "At present I am not."

"Well,'if you ;were, iione of the three would be in your way —for I am afraid you must bargain'for Miss Latouche, too." "I quite understand that Miss LatoucHe will not part from her foster sister."

"Just so. Sir Bernard left her a hundred a year. That stands too, does it not? I wonder whether I shall have the proverbial shilling? Lucky for me that I have the two hundred I spoke of, isn't it? A man can live on it, I suppose, but it is not likely to be a cheerful task for a man brought up as I have been."

Once more there was acute bitterness in his voice and again Severance's sympathy went out towards him. He liked him the better for the strength of the effort which he must be making to keep himself ujxder control. And once more he thought that Derek Willoughby had been too hardly dealt with. As he rose, stirred by a more impulsive feeling than generally moved him, a footman entered and checked the motion wihich he made toward his ,cousin. .

"I beg your pardon, sir; Mr Bethell has just arrived.. lie wishes to know whether you are at liberty."

"Certainly! You can show Mr j Bethel! in here at once." As the man ; left the rornn Sir Bernard laid his > hand upon Derek' s shoulder—he was a good deal tihe taller. "See here, Willoughby, I know nothing of you but what you have told me; but, whatever the reason, good or bad, nothing j can change the fact that I stand in the I place which was yours, and which you ; naturally expected to fill. I can't alt- ! er that, and I don't pretend tihat I j would if I could. But I must do some- j thing for you, What I must do we ; will discuss in the future. For £Ke" j present let it simply be understood between-us, in a friendly way, that it is to be done as soon as may be.' J He offered his hand, which was taken and clenched hard.. ■ ■ . "That's uncommonly g6o<l of you, Severance," Sir Derek said—'very disinterested and generous, upon my word. I appreciate it, I do, indeed. . An aditionalkick is the sort of attention that a disinterested wretch like mo usually gets. I won't forget this, ' you may rely." He released the other's hand and looked at him, with a I "faint laugh. "I may as well ;be frank/ he went on. "When I came here to-day I had more than half a notion that you would say something of the sort. And now, if you'll excuse me, I will leave /you. I think you have business to transact, and I have told you that I am not too well liked by Bethell." Although he had not been previously told this, Severance must have guessed as much, judging from the little lawyer's aspect as he and Derek, met at the door. It amused him to see the stiffening of the lawyer's figure tand the vanishing of his smile. His -short nod, his two formal fingers, his abrupt,. "How. do you .do, Sir Derek?", were all a study in their, way. Mr Bethell was frowning as he gavei his hand to Severance and watched Derek's retreat. "So you have made your kinsman'© acquaintance, Mr Severance?" he dryly asked. "Yes. He caught, it seems, an earlier train than was expected." "Ah! May I ask what you think of him?" "It is too early to judge. But so far I am bound to say that I am agreeably surprised." "Ah!" Mr Bethell ejaculated again, looking up at his new client.

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

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

"Mr Severance, you were good enough to adopt a suggestion of mine yesterday; I'll take the liberty of giving you la second piece of advice to-day. I have been connected with Redbourne for many years, and you have promised that that connection shall not cease. I don't want to say moro than need be said against one of the family—it isn't business, you understand—but, well—l know what I know. And I warn you, my dear sir, in a friendly way, between ourselves, not to he too ready to trust Sir Derek AVilloughby." Severance would have spoken, possibly remonstrated, but Mr Bethell held up liia hand. "Excuse me, no more, sir. lam an older man t'hlan you, sir, and I have said my word." He composedly drew a chair to the table, sat down, and put on his spectacles. "The funeral of Sir Bernard is arranged for Friday. In accordance with your wish, expressed yesterday, sir, I have put everything in train. But there are a few details about which I should like to consult you. Perhaps you will be kind enough to discuss them with me new?" Severance looked at him attentively, and sat down. . "You are a model of discretion, Mr Bethell," he ironicaly said. "I am obliged to you, I am sure, sir," remarked Mr Bethell gravely.

Sir Bernard Willoughby, a man contemptuously indifferent to show and ostentation, had left behind him curt instructions that, his funeral should be as quiet and simple as possible, and his wish was respected. The plain hearse, wihich bore his body to the grave, was undecorated with flowers, and of actual followers there were but four—his heir, his disinherited nephew, his lawyer, and his old friend of many years, Mr Seton, of the Moat. But miany carriages, some occupied, and others empty, attended in procession, paying on behalf of their occupants or owners the last conventional tribute of respect. The dead,man Had not been unpopular,and around the great Redbourne vault in the sunny churchyard a crowd of the humbler sort was gathered, for Sir Bernard, although irritable, had .been a good master to all in his employment, and a generous friend to many who had needed his help. Many curious glances were cast at the serious face of his successor, as wihispers of wonder and comment circulated. What sort of substitute would Bernard Severance prove to be? Taken as a whole the opinions were not unfavourable; he looked as if he could be a hard man—as hard as ever the dead Sir Bernard had been at his worst. And many sympathetic glances were shot at Sir Derek "Willougnby's handsome face as the two stood side.by side. He had been a bit wild, no doubt, but he had" surely been punished too severelv. Severance, quietly observant in his composed wiay, and accustomed to reading faces pretty well,was perhaps not unaware of the way in which the popular conviction was setting. But it did not affect him.

He was 100 honest to pretend to feel apologetic. The last two or three days at darkened Redbourne, its uneasy sense of suspense and'waiting, its formal ceremony *and gipom, had chafed and weighed upon him curiously. The weight would be lifted when the blinds were drawn up, so that the sunshine and air were free to enter; Then the intangible cloud which had lain heavy upon him would be gone. But there was no change in his habitually composed expression as he drove back with the Jawyer and Sir Derek. The latter, indeed, looked the brighter of the two. Old Mr Merton had left them at the gate of the churchyard, he. ?.nd his son had walked away together", The three went into the library, to wihich the lawyer led the way. The blinds were up, one of the long windows was open, and the sunlight.entered brightly. Mr Bethell broke the silence, looking at his client. "To read the will now is a conventional rather than a necessary ceremony, Mr Severance. But as you have told me that you are unaquainted with its minor details, you may prefer that it should be done. Possibly also Sir Derek—---" ! Sir Derek had sauntered over to the j window. Interrupting the lawyer, he spoke without looking round. ! | "You need not consider me, Bethi ell I know that I'm cut out as well I as you know it, and whether it is with 1 or without the proverbial shilling, I J confess I don't oare a straw. Read or ; unread. Sir Bernard's will is nothing . to me" "Very true, Sir Derek, since, in point of fact, your name is not mentioned in it," Mr Bethell sharply answered., "Then if you see no objection, Mr. Severance, I suggest its being read now." ' '. "Very well. But Miss Throckmorton is concerned, is she not? It would j be advisable for her to be present. Mrs i Throckmorton also should be here if she desires and feels able. And Miss . latouche. Is there any one else?" | {To be continued.)