TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10424, 15 September 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER Xlll—Continued.

"Change?" Clare's face, with its innocent Reproaching wonder, answered the question. "Certainly lam just the same. Why not? One flirts perhaps, or likes people. But love ? That —that's for always. How could one change?" Lorraine's arms dropped without a word she moved away. Clare sprang ■ to her sic l ' l _ i "Lorraine, what do you mean? Why j do you ask me that ? You see things that I don't see, you understand more than Ido I know that I" Her voice rose almost shrilly; she trembled pueously. "Ah, you don't mean that you don't think he cares?" she cried. "No, no, my darling!" With her former fierceness of look and gesture,, Lorraine's arms were about her; siio knelt beside her as she sank upon the couch, meeting wife* her own straight, resolute gaze the vide eyes which were , like -a frightened child's. ''Certainly ] he loves you!" she said. Who could j h«lp it? He must love you-4ie does. 1 he shall 1 Did he rot tell you so more than a year ago, and make you love

Her head drope'l; one violent, son convulsed her. Clare scarcely noticed; her trouble was gone. Presently Lorraine drew up the blind of one window and stood by it, looking out over the flowers. "Clare, may I ask you a question .-> she said quietly. "Has Sir Derek, since lie came from abroad, asked you to marry him?" "No, darling, or I should have told you," Clare faltered. "He has said nothing decisive; But lie makes me understand." She paused. "Sometimes I think he is waiting." ,\ "Waiting what for " asked Lorraine. "Until Sir Bernard has been dead a year. And I said the other day that the principal reason he went away was that the time should seem shorter. And I couldn't help knowing what he meant, could I?" l Lorraine's answer was checked if sho intended to make one. A knock at the door was followed by the entrance of one of the woman servants. She looked at Clare. "A person has called, if ,vou please, ■ ma'am." : . " "A person?" Clare echoed perplexedly. | "In answer to the advertisement probably," Lorraine said quietly. "Is that so, Burton?" "Yes ma'am. I did not r» whether I should bring her up here?" "Oh, yes, certainly!" Clare sprang to her feet. "I declare I had quite forgotten the advertisement Lorraine. If this-person is a nice one, we'll take her, shall we? What is she like, I wonder. Bid she eend up her name, Burton?" 'Oh, yes, ma'am. It was writtea tihere she said." ... The woman handed a folded paper and left the room. Olare, opening it, burst into a laugh. "What a comical name!" she cried. 'Look, Lorraine! Shall we ever remeinber that nanie? .'Alethea Ventry.' What will she be like, I wouder?" j The question was answered within j a minute. The door opened, and Alethea Ventry was shqwn into the room. At first sight the most noticeable point about the new arrival.was her figure. Rather tall, supple, well ; was a figure which must have attracted .aittentaom anywhere, even though the neat black dress which displayed it had been a less exquisite fit than '.t was. The face was not so attractive. The complexion was sallow, the features indifferent, {.he hair was of thai peculiar neutral brown which is akiu to drab. But the eyes—large, dark find gray, with a peculiar greenish glow in them—atoned for what, without them, would have been commonplace; their glance was remarkably, keen. They flashed swiftly from Lor.raine's face to Glare's and back, then were oast demurely down. Alethea Yentry's manner was as perfect as her i, figure. There was no adr of servility •about her. Clare spoke, pointing to a chair.., . \ "yill'you sit down?' r she kindly asked, "Your nameis Alethea Ven- • try, is it not? And you have references I suppose?" '„ "Yes, madam. The name of the . lady who will be happy to recommend me is written under mine." The voice, though a little harsh in quality, was refined. Clare glanced at the paper again. "Oh, yes! 'Mrs Scott-Beaumont.' I had not noticed. I don't know the name. You were lady's maid? Was there only this lady?'

"Yes, madam. She was a widow." "Here your duties would be with me—l am Miss Throckmorton—and ! my foster sister—Miss Latouche. Lorraine, dear, here is the paper. Do you know the name of Scott-Beau- ' mont?" , With this adroit shifting of the business of this interview with her, foster sister's hands, dare promptly wifch- ' drew herself from it;, and, lazily swaying in her rocking chair again, looked "*• >on ah,A listened, while Lorraine put her quiet, direct questions. ' They were only few, and were answereJ with ready brevity. How long had she been in the employment of Mrs Scott-Beaumont? For nearly two years. "Why was she leaving? Mrs Scott-Beaumont was breaking up her establishment to reside abroad with her married daughter. Had she any j knowledge of dressmaking? She bad always been used to it. And millinery?

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

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

And millinery also. Oould she dress, hair? She Jiad had special lessons. m Supposing that the references were satisfactory, when would she be at liberty? She would be a,t liberty tlio next day if it were desired. She must understand that within a few weeks they would be leaving town for the country, wihere the life would be very quiet. Had she any objection, to that; 1 No objection whatever. Lorraiio finally glanced across at Glare, received a little nod of underview. "Very well," she said quietly. That is all I meed trouble you with at present, I think. I will write to Mrs ScottBeaumont to-night, and you shall hear the result as soon as possible. There is no reason, I think, why you should not suit Miss Throckmorton." "Thank you, madam. I hope to please Miss Throckmorton and yourself."

Tho words were for Lorraine, but as she turned to the door, the strangely bright eyes of Alethea Veratry shot a glance swift and keen at the graceful, swaying figure in the rocking chair. j "Wait a moment," said Clare "Your name is rather, peculiar. Maj : 1 I ask if you are always called by it?'' "I have always been so miss, but if you object " "No, no! I have no right to call you by any other name. But I have a. bad memory for that kind of thing, and I fear I may forget it sometimes. I think you will most likely suit us * very nicely, Alethea. Good after- | noon!" . , [ "I will, do my best, miss." The door closed behind the graceful, supple figure, but Clare's gaze remained fixed. "What is it, Clare!" "Nothing, dear!" Clare turned, pushing the soft hair off her forehead in a puzzled way. "Only—does anything strike you about her, Lorraine?" . . , "In what way? She has a very good figure." "Yes, talmost as good as yours, dear. But I didn't mean that. She reminds me of somebody." "Does she? In face?" "I scarcely know in what. I had a strange isense of familiarity the moment she came in. Did you not feel it!" "No, not at all. It struck me her style was —what shall I say!—a little theatrical." "A theatrical lady's maid!" She doesn't look like a lady's maid." - "Perhaps not, although I couldn't • say why not. How old should you say she is! Anything from five and twenty to thirty!" "About that. Well, what do you think, dear!""About her .suiting! Oh, I think »ahe will do! Sihe looks clever and capable and all that, and I suppose she hasn't got a wheelwright. We will hope not at any rate. Will you write to this Mrs. Scott-Beaumont, dear!" Lorraine complied at once. Clarke sank in/to the rocking-chair again,and with her ohin on her hands, sat looking at the carpet thoughtfully. Concluding her letter and. rising to ring the bell. Lorraine touched her shoulder. ' "What are you thinking of, love?" "Thinkingof?" She looked up with a start,laughed, and pointed to the letter in the other's hand. "Why, Ale- | thea Ventry! Ido wish I could remem- , ber, Lorraine, of whom she reminds j me." , j , "You may have seen the girl an the ■ street. But if you have any unpleasant j feeling regarding her, we had better , not think of engaging her. Shall I send tho letter?" "Uupleasant feeling?" Clare shook her head. '"I haven't, dear. I rather like her. Only it is rather odd, isn't it, that already she doesn't like me!" "Doesn't like you?" "Didn't you see it, dear. I rather wonderr-you are always so quick. I saw it %he moment ishe looked at me j when I mentioned my name. It was ! almost as though she had expected to dislike me and. did so on the spot. So . queer!. And she looked at me so oddly afterwards, all the time you talked to .-.her.-',' .■-•■■■■; - ' -.- •■,;■.■ _ • "I did not notice. But if you have that fancy, we will not engage her. There may be plenty of other answers to the advertisement,' •.'..■■•

"There may not, and I may have to continue to make a slave of you. Nonsense, darling! We will have Alethea Ventry if her reference suits. The condition of my black hair is of far more importance ito me than my ; fancies. I have no doubt that Mrs I Scott-Beaumont will report her a perfect treasure. Send the Jetter." ■. Clare's prophecy proved right. Mrs Scott-Beaumont's reply, received the next day, was in the highest degree satisfactory. Her late maid was given the best of characters, both in her personal and professional capacities; her mistress only deeply regretted the necessity of parting with ber. The day. following Alethea Ventry brought her neat, modest trunks to Hill Street, and was duly installed as Jtdy's maid to Miss TJirockmbrton. (To be continued.)