TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10430, 22 September 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER XVn—Continued

"If what comes about? What do yon mean?" "What should I mean? If ever she marries that fellow." "What fellow?" Severance stood still, and Harry stared at hiin. "Good heavens, can't you see?" he said with a groan. "He's her cousin, too, confound him! Derek Willoughby!" A man who is naturally self-contain-ed and whose vigorous self-training has strengthened the quality has certainly many advantages. Severance walked on without any outward loss of composure. . "Indeed! You surprise me!" he said. "Sir Derek Willoughby?" "Ah!" Harry uttered another groan of rage and disgust. "That's the man!"

"Having said so much, we must out. You nieaai, to put it plainly, that Miss Throckmoron is in love with him?"

"Where have your eyes been not to see it?" asked Harry lugubriously. "I have not seen it—not suspected it. It is quite true that I have not very often seen them together."- He was bewildered, and was mentally asking himself whether he was or was not a fool. "But is this something new?" "New ? 1 believe he began to make love to her 'when'she was about eighteen. It was the way he used to amuse himself at Redbourne," Harry said bitterly. "And then up in town But Glare —bless her! —never thinks ill of anybody. Look here, Mr Severance, he's rich, we know—you ought to know it if anybody does —he has the title, he's handsome, and women rave about him. But, fair and square, do you say'he's fiifc for her?"

"No!" Severance answered emphatically. "I don't want to rake up this, that, and the other, but I've heard some tales. Honestly, haven't you?" "Yes, I have heard of it!" "I don't say much aibout that, because I fancy she's a woman uncommonly well able to take care of herself —not that I've seen her or want to. But before the old man died we heard, at the moat, part of the tale that was awfully cruel."

"What was it?" "I can't say clearly, because we only heard the fag end. There wais a girl on the stage—he promised to marry her, and she left it, and he —■ well, did what that sort of fellow always does, when he was tired of her. Common enough sort of story, but this girl was straight."

"Did Sir Bernard know of the mat ter?" asked Severance suddenly.

"Sir Bernard! I am not sure. He did not if Wflloughiby could help it, you may be certain; he always kept Ms goings-on secret from the old man. If he hadn't he'd have been cut off with a shilling long before he was." "It may have been the reason that he was cut off —if Sir Bernard knew it," Severance suggested. He was recalling a sentence spoken by the little lawyer, Mr Bethell, onf the day he had left Eedbourne, knowing that it was lost to him.

"Perhaps; I don't know I Look here I I've said enough, haven't I, to win you on my. side? It isn't the same thing to you that it is to me, but you must agree that this ought to be stopped for Glare's sake? Now, don't you?" "I do most heartily! ,Biit how is it to be stopped?"

"That's what I don't know. But you're better stocked with brains than I anij and may find out. Mind you, I don't think that it would be very difficult to finish it if Clare once got a notion of the sort of man he. really is. She's very proud in her way, though you might not think it. But at present she thinks him an angel. Poor little girl; and he cares no more for her than for that lamp-post. Sometimes I think that'is what maddens me most of all."

"Not care for her? Then why should he marry her?" "I don't believe lie intends to marry her—she has amused him, that's all. It's not that I'm afraid of exactly—it's of her being made wretched for years." , - Harry paused. "If ever he did marry her it would be to spate you, that's my belief." "To spite me?" The coil in which he found himself wound was too much for his gravity, and Severance laughed. Harry nodded gloomily. "Oh, I mean it, absurd though ;.t sounds! From what I once h<«>wi him say I know that he has the idea that you're sweet on Clare; and from'what I can make out he has a bitter grudge .against you for offering to lend him a hand 'before it was known that the will was lost. Any other fellow would be grateful .'but that isn't his I've heard him say so, and that he would get even with you yet. He hates you, but I should take it as a compliment myself." "I do."

"Quite right, too. I say, you'll ekcuse mo bothering you, but I felt T was bound to, speak to somebody, and them seemed nobody but you. Glare thinks as much of you as if you were her brother—l've heard her say so. Well, you'll do what you can, won't you?" "I will; you may safely rely upon that. As for speaking to me, I am sincerely thankful that you did so. Won't you come in?" They were in Hill Street now, And had paused close to the house. Harry glanced at it and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. rather nob see her just now. Good-bye, and a thousand thanks! If it were you

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

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

she cared about I'd manage to stand it!"

He hurried away. Severance looked after him, and then at the familiar door with tho expression and feeling of a man who had been aroused violently from sleep ami to whom the bewildering fragments of a dream stiii clung. Then he laughed. "It appears," he said, "that I shall not marry Clare Throckmorton!" He laughed again. "And I wonder whether anywhere under the sun there stands a bigger fool or a blinder idiot than I feel at this present moment!"

However that might be, whatever chagrin, amazement, and mortification he might feel, his call must be made — his letter pleged him to it. As to what excuse ho could give for wanting nothing in particular, he must trust to his readiness of tongue and to the sweet-tempered ease with which Clare would he sure to accept it. He took a turn or two up and down to restore his usual looks, knocked, and was shown up into the drawing-room. Clare was not there, much to his relief, under this new and confusing aspect of things, the room was empty but for Lorraine. A book was on her knees as she sat; she was not reading. At the moment of his entrance he saw that her head was bent down upon her clasped bands; but the face £he raised at his approach was no paler than usual, and the fingures she gave him were not more coldly careless.

"Clare will be here directly, Mr Severance. You are a little earlier than she expected, I /think. She says that you always come in with the teapot. Won't you sit down?" She glanced at bim as he took the seat, and her expression changed; she flushed. "What is the matter," she asked quickly. "The matter?"

"I thought you seemed to be disturbed —distressed. As though something had surprised or annoyed you."

"Do I? I was not aware of it." He fortunately recollected a fairly honest way out of this. "I confess that I have been surprised, though there was nothing distressing about it.. Whom do you think I saw in the street just now?"

"Am Ito guess ? It is the last thing lam any use ai. A man?" "A woman." "Then lam helpless. Whom ?"

"Mns Vassell." "Mrs Vassell?" Lorraine sat erect. "Impossible, Mr Severance. You must be mistaken!"

"I assure you I am hot. lam sure I saw her. Did you not know she was in London?" "She is at Redbourne." Severance shook his head.

"I'm afraid I must be rude enough to insist that you are mistaken, Miss Latouche. She may have been at Redbourne this morning, and may be there this evening, but half an hour'i ago she was decidedly in London." "You are quite sure?" ".Perfectly sure. She brushed against me in passing." "How very strange! She never 1 leaves Redbourne—cannot be persuad-' ed to do so. And to leave it in our absence —what can the reason be, I wonder?"

"It seems odd, certainly." The subject of Mrs Vassell had not the interest which" it might have possessed for 'him at another time, but it sufficed to make talk while he was "still settling his mind to the fact that he was not going to propose to Clare. "She may be visiting relatives. No; I think I understood that she has none?''

His tones made the words a question, and Lorraine answered withotit turning Iter Jiead. "She never speaks of any," she said quietly. "For the reason that they are nonexistent, doubtless. Women are generally voluble upon the subject. I'm afraid you are disturbed about it. I regret mentioning it if that is the case." "I am only surprised. Here is Claire!" If Severance felt by this time as little like an eager lover as a man well could, Clare, entering, did not at all resemble who was shyly expectant of a proposal. She had never looked -prettier—he was jmefully aware of that—rbut she had never, been gayer, kinder, more unconcerned, and at that he again mentally asked himself .whether he was or was not a fool. To his great relief she did not ask him ,why he had written that formal note. Something else absorbed her. Almost as soon as her greeting was over she turned, pouting, to Lorraine.

"Isn't it tiresome! I'm as nearly in a rage as I can be. Alethea is not back yet." ■ "My dear, I did not know that she was out. Is she?" i "Is she?" Clare was not too near a rage to laugh, and she did so, leaning over her foster sister's chair. "I am sure your wits must go woolgath" ering sometimes, darling! Why, you were present when she asked if she could go out for an hour after lunch!" "Oh, yes; I Tecolleot! But that is a long time ago." "Of course it is; that's why I'm exasperated. It is almost three hours since she went, and I have been waiting for her to help me with my frock ■ for to-morrow night. It is too bad! , I shall bully her when she does appear; there is such a lot to do to the frock —the chiffon 4s in ribbons." She glanced across the room. "It is a good ■thing you came when you did, Mr Severance; you arrived at a critical moment. I had almost arrived at "fine pitch of tearing my hair!" (To be Continued.)