TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10414, 7 September 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER X— Continued,

"Well, I will. I promise you a candid j opinion but I am sure it will be favour- | able. A woman whose husband adores j her and whoso husband's oldest friend ; admires ker must be nice. I know we shall like her; I only hope she will like us. You must give her a good report, please, Mr. Severance, because— —. Why, Lorraine, who can that be?" "A visitor 1" ,said Lorraine. She had started and sat erect in her chair. "Yes, dear. But what a startling knock! And so late, too! These are not orthordox calling hours, are they, Mr. Severance, although we did let you in? But that is because you are becoming a famous man, and have ■ special privileges." She gave him a smile wihich any man must have appreciated. "Who can it be, Lorraine? Some one who imagines t.hat he has special privileges, too, I should think." The door was opened, and the footman announced sonorously. "Mr Seton I" "Why, Harry—you ?" cried Clare. Harry Seton it was, sure enough, filled with such eager, bini;derhig apologies for his 'appearance as he held Clare's little hand that London might have been supposed the especial property of Miss Throckmorton, and himself the most unwarranted of intruders therein. It was very late to call, he stammered, but he was passing "just by chance." and, seeing the lights Yes, they had made up Their minds not to come to town this season. The governor and the girls were at the ; Moat, and meant to stay there, but he had thougJit he would 'ike a bit of a change for a week, or two, and his people in Hans Place would always welcome him. The country is all very well, but beastly dull sometimes, particularly when He paused, and then rattled on: "Miss Latouche, you are not looking s well. I am- really very sorry! But, I say, Mr Severance, that was a rousing speech of yours! 'Never thought you'd get the verdict', you know, particularly ! against such a, dry old fox as Urqfaf hart. How is Mrs Throckmorton — better ? Hope I shall see her presently. And—Miss Throckmorton will excuse me, but it is really jolly to <see her in a white frock again!" Harry became at once evidently unconscious of everyone else in the room except Clare. He even ignored Mrs Throckmorton, who appealed presently with her usual accompaniments of cushion, shawl, maid and smelling bottle, giving a/ mildly cordial greeting to both the visitors, with a special graciousness for the younger. Harry hung about Clare so eagerly, listened to her so eagerly, set all the ardor of his honest blue eyes upon her face so openly, that vague suspicion grew strong and mounted to absolute certainty in Severance's heart as he watched. He had twice met young Seton at Redbourne, and, although i driven to decide that the young man's i divinity was not Lorraine, he had altogether declined to admit openly the necessary conclusion that it must be ; Clare. But the genuine dismay passed. [ Seton in love with Clare did not proclaim that Clare was in love with I Seton, and it was plain that she treat- ' ed him very much as a boy. Severance also recalled having heard that she was a year the elder of the two* He jsuffered himself to drop, placidly out of a conversation too trivial to interest him, and presently approached Lorraine, who was standing by the window. The curtain she had •slightly raised her arm to draw back was dark, and against its folds 'her beautiful figure in its quaintly cut white robe stood out with the classic grace of a statue. There was something classic, too, in the great Greek knot in which her hair was twisted. What a rich note of colour it made in the lamplight, "Pretty" was the last word to apply to her. She was utterly unlike Clare,>but if a man once got her into his mind She raised her eyes, and looked at' him. He spoke, feeling that she was mentally demanding why he was there. "The view is a very dull one, I am afraid." "Not to me. It lives, stirs, changes. Dullness is stagnation, not life." "That sounds as though you liked London." "It is my first experience of rising here, so I don't know." "I fancy experience will teach you to prefer Redbourne." '■ "It is scarcely a question cf preference. Redbourne has grown to be {riri. of me." • ' 'I understand. You woull find it difficult to imagine any other homo?" "I suppose I would." She vaused "I have not yet congratulate 1 you. Mr Severance." While Clare had doae so, she had sat coiuly silent; not a look'had shown interest in his successo rin him; at which he had been piqued, but not surprised. The softening of her eyes and voice necessarily reminds 1 hi»»- of 'ths day when he had—-so absurdly-—kissed } tiic» white hand which sho offered biro f now. A strange girl in all ways—not I to be counted on or re3<o \-u with. "Thank you!" he: said quietly. "Do • I Ms'>w you what I prom- *<« d." "7es V "As much as you expected?" "Fully.' "Failnce and succejs hare had a close tusJe. Does the r"si't sirprisp yo'i?" "No." ILnco'iies were-sufficioi't'y eloquert with such eyes to suppetu>nt their O'ice more came the th j-iitht that if a man once got her fairly into his mind

(OTJB NEW SEEIAL.)

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

j Afij.in i,he broke the thought. j withdrawing her fingers, letting them [ fall caressingly upon tlho head of the dog at her side. I "CLare's letters surprised you? Yoi» ! did not expect to find us in town ft"' 1 she asked. "I certainly did not. The pleasure was unexpected." "It is principally to please Mrs Throckmorton. She likes change, although she will allow herself to be so little profited by it. During the last few months she has complained terribly of the loneliness of Redbourne. She rarely leaves the east wing, and the mere knowledge of the rest of the house being shut up seems to depress her. But I give you stale news. She has told you as much, I think?" "With tolerable piteoustless.' , He smiled. For her prophecy that she would soon find out Clare's mother to be a hopelessly tiresome woman had been fully confirmed long ago. 'Most of the servants are dismissed, I think ?' "Nearly all. Our own wo have brought with us.. Excepting a couple of maids, and Mrs Vassell, poor Redbourne is, for the present, deserted." "Ah!" A memory of the housekeeper, equally vivid, perplexing and unpleasant, brought a darkening change' to Severance's face. "May I ask if Mrs Vassell is better, Miss Latouche? '•Better?," j "On my last visit to Redbourne I surely heard that she was ill." "Did you hear it?" Lorraine had moved from the window and reseated herself; she looked up at him as ho took a chair by her side. 'I had forgotten that," she said, 'or I did not know it. I am sorry that I cannot give you a better account of her. She is still ill." "Indeed! May I ask what is wrong with her." "The doctor gives it no specific name. She is weak, thin and nervous. A complete change is advised for her, but she refuses to take it." "What is that, dear ?" Clare, called across to alter the position of her mother's. air. cushion; paused mid--, j way; "Are yon talking about Mrs | Vassell ? Oh 1 , the poor woman is ! dreadfully ill, Mr Severance —she looks like a ghost! I never saw such a change in anyone as there has been in her since poor Sir Bernard died. She seems to be in a sort of fever always —it is quite pitiful. She ought to go away, I am convinced. Lorraine actually offered to go with her if she would \vy the seaside, but she won't stir from Redbourne. She has lived there all her life, you see, and I suppose ahe would feel.lost anywhere else. And the poor thing is so lonely, which makes it worse.' I don't believe that she has a relative an the world, /has she, Lorraine? Yes—yes, mother, I am coming! A footstool, too? Very well, will you get one, Harry?" For about the sixth time in half an hour Mrs Throckmorton absorbed the energies and attentions of her companions. At another time Severance would have admired the unfailing sweetness and readiness with which Clare met and responded to her mother'is continuous demands upon her. Now, lover though he was, he was more interested in Mrs Vassell, the housekeeper. Instead of looking at Clare he looked at Lorraine. "It seems to be a strange sort of ill—i ness," he said. "But she is a strange ■'sort of woman."

"Strange!" echoed Lorraine. "I must say that I found her so." "Did you?" Her contracted eyebrows betrayed wonderment. "I am afraid I don't understand you. Strange in what, way?" "Well, in her manner.'' He paused. "May I ask if she is a particular favourite of yours, Miss Latouche?" "A favourite? No. I can scarcely call her that. Why should you think she is a favourite of miner" "Then I shall run no risk of offending you if I say plainly what I mean. The fact is—l may be wrong, in which case I beg Mrs Vassell's pardon—l have always strongly suspected her , of writing me that mysterious letter." "What letter?" ,'I can mean but one. The anonymous letter of warning which I received on the morning of Sir Bernard's death." I'Sir Bernard's death ?" To his surprise her look was one of blank, bewildered amazement as she half rose. "What letter. I heard of none " "Surely you must have done so. I made no secret of, it at the time; it astonished and puzzled me. too. completely. No doubt it has slipped your memory. But, rightly or the reverse,, I suspected Mrs Vassell of being the writer. And I must own that I retain my opinion." "But what was it?" Standing erect now, her eyes on his as he arose, she made a gesture of feverish impatience. "It warned you. Warned you of whom? Warned you of what? Tell me!" ." "Of what?" With a shrug Severance laughed grimly. "It warned me against an idiocy which had already been committed, had I but known it. Miss Latouche. It told me that I should do wisely to guard what had already been stolen —Sir Bernard's will." (To be continued.)