TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10411, 4 September 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER Vlll—Continued

"Lydia Msnckton—Mrs Moncktoa! Th>t ".t W.st, was a be. She was net 'married. I saw her ungloved ia Theve was a pause, which the I'awyer, frowning as he sat, did not ■ 'break. Severance Epoice again. . { "You thirJi 1 should do something. Mate- an effort—an, outcry I tell J -o-d, BcfiSlKiil, that within the first five minutes, knowing as j could not i fail to know, .how the- tiling had i ■bem done, l'Mt the utter futakty of any .sue* thing Havel the faai'teob ctlue or -ferae© ? lha„ is *bo question, and (the answer is •--irrGie You know it my S° od I friend, as well a® I do.; , ; ] Unable to reply, the. el<.!or man again struck the, table violently, i "If Sir Bernard had only listened to , me!" he exclaimed. If he had bnly | signed the duplicate of the v ill! j j begged him .to do so, but he would not.* I'lho original was in your hands, ! he said, and your wero a poor lawyer j if you let it slip." "Aye, a fool," Severance said curtly. "I .am not disposed to excuse my own j folly—it has cost me eight thousand a I year." His face quivered for a moment. "And the duplicate of the former will is signed and intact, you say?"_ I "Yes, I have it. Though, had it not I been signed; it would have made very little difference,"Mr Bethell answered gloomily. - "Sir Derek is next of km. He would still have taken all." Severance "did not answer. In his mind ho was going over the scene which had followed the thunderclap of yesterday—<a scene of exclamation, of wild excitement, incredulity, and then exultation on the part of Derek Willoughby, and on his own rage and dismay.' He was fronting the blow well, bearing it as, he told himself, a roan should do; but it had been stunningly, staggeringly cruel. Still, at the worst he was only where he had been. The loss of a deiad man's money should not cast him down—he who had fought his battle undaunted and uri- ' helped until he had wrung something oi the sweetness of success from the gall of failure. The worst was behind him, not before. He drew a deep '. breath at' the thought; and rose to i his feet. The lawyer did the same, ana urged , no more, knowing it would be useless. "You leave Redbourne to-day, Mr Severance?" . '' ''■ ; "Within the next half hour. I have waited only to see you. That done, and my leave taken of the ladies, there is nothing to detain me." "You have seen Sir Derek this mornMYes." The tone of the question was more significant than the words. "He was as courteous as need be, said all that I could expect him to say, assured me of a welcome here whenever I chose to claim it, and begged that I would stay on for a while if it suited me. Impossible! My work awiaitsme in town; but, even without that excuse, I should be glad to g.et away." ' 'Naturally—naturally 1" Mr Bethell had expressed so much of his re-

gret and indignant sympathy that now j he said no more as the two clasped hands. "I may ask you the question?" he said. "Sir" Derek 'under stands '-that you leave him in possession—that, to use your own phrase, you withdraw?" "Certainly t I told him as much.. It was only candid to acknowledge that ■: I knew*myself helpless. We have parted in a friendly wav." ' , '; "Ah!" Releasing his hand the law-| yer looked at him. "Mr Severance, I am an honest man, I hope, but I feel j that I am not one if we are to part j like this. I shall not consider that I have borne myself candidly to you — ] my old friend's chosen heir. We have I talked, we have wondered and (speculated, but we have both avoided (the very crux of the subject and I think we both know it..'This vile fraucMthJis abominable theft of Which you are the , victim—-means 1 gain >to bjrt one person." , "Sir Derek Willoughby " Severance composedly remarked. 'Certainly i" .', "To Sir Derek, and only to Sir Derek. The substitution of your name for his was the sqle difference made in the two wills. The provision for Miss ■'; Clare, her .mother,, and for Miss Lar ■bouche is precisely the same in each. Sir Derek, and only Sir Derek, profits »by the change." . "Granted., What then?" i "This: You asked me, when you came to Redbourne, what was the cause of the breach between Sir Bernard and his nephew. "I evaded the question, and left you to understand that I did not know. That was not . the fact. Sir Bernard did not fully confide in me —he was so bitterly incensed, but I gathered that the main i cause of the quarrel was—a woman!" There was a pause. Severance shook his head.

"A mistake!" he decisively said. ."I understand your inference, but it is a mistake. You suggest that the woman who came t© : my. chambers was Sir Derek's he knew of the, robbery? I say, in barest justice to him, no! Done for his benefit, yes, but "not with his knowledge, nor" at his instigation. • I saw his fiace, .'his. expression; He was utterly astounded, as amazed and incredulous as you or I.' This thickens the mystery, I know; I have thought of it in all its bearings, you may be sure, but I repeat that, wherever the guilt lies, it is not at the door of Derek Wp<loughby." He spoke emphatically, as in mere honesty, he felt himself bound to speak, remembering the intense, be-

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

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

wildcred disbelief which his kinsman had displayed on the previous day. Nothing more was said upon the theme. A few sentences of mutual jvood will wero spoken, and, the two men separating, Severauce went to take his farewell of Clare Throckmorton.

He had not seen her since the scene of yesterday. His own impressions at the time wero so hurried and vague that he had only a confused memory of her having burst into passionate sobs and broken exclamations, and leaving the room clinging to her foster sister. Mingled with this was a vision of Mrs Vassell, wringing her hands above her gray head, like a creature distracted. But it was only of Clare he thought as he knocked at the door of her sitting room, now. He was recalling her icy manner.' Would it be relaxed ? Would she be in tears now ? She was not in tears! fife first glance—which also, rather to his surprise, told him that she was alone in the room —was sufficient to show him that. She was seated near the window and she rose to meet him, girlish and slender in her black dress, she looked prettier than he had seen her yet. And there was no trace of coldness in her manner to-day. With the sweetest of grace, and .spontaneity she held outlier little hand. "I knew you' would come to say 'good-by,' Mr Severance; I was expecting you." . She hesitated. "You are really leaving to-day--at once?" : "By the rfext train. There is nothing further to detain me." "No, I suppose not.' She was faltering still with the shy nervousness which was natural to her. "But must it be qtiite so soon? Sir Derek "

"Sir Derek has asked me to remain if I will, but tihat is impossible. Pitting all other considerations aside, my business waits." He smiled grimly f'And it is as well to remember, Miss Throckmorton, that .strictly speaking, I have never had any right' here at all "Oh, don't say that," Clare cried earnestly. '"lt/sounds as though—as though we were. glad. And it is not true. Who could have could'have guessed. Oh, Mr Severance, it is very hai'd on you. Do not go away thinking that I do not feel that. I am truly, truly .sorry for your cruel disappointment, indeed I am!" ' Tears filling her large eyes made <her prettier still, and he pressedthe trembling little hand. "You are very kind, Miss Throckmorton. I hope lamin no danger of misunderstanding you." ,✓ "Oh, I hope not —I hope not! And —and —you will not be strange with us again, will you? You saia that we were cousins. I mean you will.always be isure you will have a welcome here ? And, before long, when you feel that you can, you will come and see us-^ I Lorraine'and my mother and me." | : It would have been impossible to I refuse the sweet, pleading face, even | had it been less pretty. He wouW come, he said, thanking her, before very long, and be the guest of the separate establishment in the east wing. He hoped she would remember,. as well as he should do, that they were cousins, and if she had need of o service of any kind, would she call upon him? Yes, she promised with a tearful smile that she,would be sure to do that.. She had not forgotten how kind he had been at first, when—when !—— She did not finish.

He .left a.message for Mrs Throckmorton with dare, another for Miss Latouche, pressed the kind little hand again j and left.her. His farewell of Sir Derek—friendly

and good-natured enough, as he bad truthfully described it —had taken place before his interview with the lawyer, and there was nothing more to detain him. His satchel had been sent on to the station, as he had chosen to walk the distance. He turned as he neared the end of the drive, and looked back. What, a dream it had been for Just those few days, and what a fool he Had been." A sort of defiance rose in him in the midst of ihis fresh spiasm of rage against himself, and he laughed. "Gone and done with J" he said aloud. "Let it go! I stand where I was. The memory shall not harass me for ai,day." v ' He swung round again, arid then stood still. A path branched away at that point, and, standing just withdrawn in the shadow of the trees, he saw Lorraine Latoudhe, with Sir Bernard's old pointer at her side. . ,;', She made no sign, but he was instantly sure that she waited there'to. say a last word to him, and understood that it was by design that he had not found her with. Clare. Why? For no reason probably. It was but a whim on the part of this girl, inscrutable, strange and baffling as she was. He advanced to her as she stood in the shadow. "You are leaving Redbourne?" she I said. "I am going now.. The next train takes me back to town. "And" — lie smiled -to think of all that it meant — ''most certainly I am leaving bourne.""But leaving it forever? Leaving it as something done with and gone?" She made a gesture with her hands, as though she flung something contemptuously behind her. "You are taking no vain hope to weary yous No lingering expectation that somehow things may change? No bitter- | ness to poison your life and spoil your I future?" ■ (To be continued.)