TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10431, 23 September 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER XVll—Continued "Is to-morow night so important, then?" Severanco asked. "Important?" Clare clasped hexhands tragically. "Oh,the memory of the man, Lorraine. Do you hear that? Now, don't you know perfectly well that to-morow night closes the opera season?" • "I remember now that it does." "And al.o, perhaps, that Lorraine and I liavo seats in Lady Heston s box?"

"I recollect. You remind me that I half promised to go with the Moorfields."

"Half promised? Dear me, what condescension! Well, that is the state of the case. My only available frock is in ribbons, my maid is—the Fates alono know where, and you coolly ask me if it is important! Mv Severance, you aro not a man at all, you. ai-e an oyster!" ) This was not at all the thing which a girl of .this, caliber would say to a man whom she was expecting to propose to her presently, but exactly the thing which she might say to a man whom she regarded almost as a brother. Severance's; laughter astonished Clare; she wanted the key to his unusual hilarity. Even Lorraine 'looked at him with a kind of wonder. She spoke to Clare presently, mentioning the presence of Mi-s. Vassell in and the girl's eyes widened increduously. "You are quite sure that you saw her, Mr. Severance?" .she asked. "As sure as I am that I see you."

"How very strange! Isn't it, Lorraine? What can have brought her, when she will never stir from Redboume? Will she call here, I wonder, to let uS know what it all means ? I should think so. Oh, what is that? Forme?"

A servant had entered and was proffering her a letter. Taking it from the salver, Clare looked at it wonderingly. "It has no stamp!" she said. "No rni?s ; it was slipped into the letter box not throe minutes" ago." The servant left the room, and, standing by the window, Clare turned the envelope over. "What a queer hand!" she said. "I don't know it a bit. And my full name, too, and 'Private' marked in ' the corner. The writer was deter- ■ mined that I should get it, at any rate. What can it be, Lorraine?" "Look and see!"

Lorraine rose as she spoke, moving .a little away, and Clare tore open the envelope,, taking out and unfolding the one sheet of paper that it contained. Only a few lines were written upon it, but qs she read, them the girl's face blanched, and she uttered an exclamation of amazement and incredulity. Turning at'the sound, Lorraine saw the look, and sprang to her side, "What is it, Clare?"

"It is a lie !" Clare cried passionately. Her voice was harsh, her eyes wejrs gleaming; she trembled so violently that tfce paper shook in her hand. "I know it is a lie—a wicked, cruel lie! Look at it, Lorraine —read it! Aloud aloud —both of you may hear it! I know it- is a Iji She dropped into & chair, holding out the paper. Lorraine, taking it, glanced at Severance and hesitated. "Do yM inean that t atti to read it aloud, Ciare?" / ' 'Yes. Why- h6t ? 1 tell you I know it's a lie! What harm can it do to him?" "Him?" Lorraine echoed. "Yes —to Derek!" Clare answered.

Severance started violently. Lorraine's gaze met his with a mute question.

"It is her wish," he said, "and I am as her brother. What does the letter say?" , Lorraine replied by reading the few curt sentences: .■ ' "

" 'A friend earnestly begs Miss Clare Throckmorton, for the sake of her own happiness, to believe this letter. First, Sir Derek Willoughby does not care for her and does not intend to make her his wife. Second, Sir Derek's promise of marriage has long ago been solemnly pledged to another woman.' " Lorraine raised her head, her face wore a stunned look. Severance looked at her, looked at Clare, who was sobbing violently now, and held out his hand.

"Will you let me see that, Miss Latouche '' She handed the letter to him. He looked at it, and with a shrug, handed it back. "I thought so," he said. "It is the same hand!" "The same hand?" she echoed. "The same hand as that of the anonymous letter I received on the morning of Sir Bernard's death the letter warning me to keep guard over the stolen will!"

CHAPTER Vm,

"So you 'have really put in an appearance? In another five minutes I should have repented of my generosity in saving a seat for you. In my mind ;the man who deliberately misses the first iscene of an opera is almost as great.an artistic criminal as the man who leaves before the curtain goes down on the last one. Both should be severely restricted to a fare of farces and musical comedy. They are worthy of nothing better. • Mrs Moorfield, in an artistic pale yellow opera cloak, in which her dark, vivacious beauty looked its best, was the speaker. Bernard Severance took his seat in the box at her side. '"Save me from that sort of fare, at any rate," he said with a laugh. "That way lies imbecility, as far as I am concerned. But I don't think I deservi

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

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

(To ba Continued.)

to bo bullied, do I, Mrs Moorfield? The curtain doe; not rise for a good ten minutes." r "Which is exactly the grace I gave you. Are you looking for Tom? Ho j will be here directly. Somebody seized I upon him outside the cloakroom, and ; I hurried away. I only know it was a man. I expected wo would have Maud Selby to-night, but islie sent an excuse at the last moment—face ache, I think, poor girl!—so our fourth seat goes begging after all. If I had known it a little sooner I would have asked that nice boy, Harry Seton. He called | to-day, and stayed to tea, hoping, I suppose, to catch Mas Throckmorton, whom I expected, but she did not appear. Somebody really ought to talk to her, tiresome little thing! She will quite spoil that boy if she keeps him on tenterhooks any longer. This afternoon lie positively hinted at emigration. And he an elder son, too! I scolded him, but What are you looking for, pray? You are not paying the slightest attention to what I am saying!" "I beg your pardon —pray excuse me! I was wondering what might be Lady. Heston's box." "Lady Heston's box? Exactly opposite to this. We "went and booked them together. Why? Oh, to be sure, I understand! Miss Throckmorton and Miss Lat-ouche are to be with her, are they not?" "I heard so yesterday, but I am not by any means sure that they will appear." "No? Is Mrs Throckmorton ill again?" "No, not to my knowledge. Ah, Tom! How are you, old fellow?" It was a relief to Severance that Moorfield entered the box at that moment, and that he was thus enabled by turning to greet him to check the lady's curiosity. Even to her : he had no more idea of speaking of Clare's distress and emotion yesterday thau he had of betraying its cause. But it had been in his mind incessantly,troubling him as it was doing now. Mrs Moorfield, glancing aside at him, thought bow grave and clouded ids exf pression was —more so than she bad I se(yi it of late. She touched his arm j with her fan presently and roused | him. j "Wrong!" she whispered, indicating with a gesture the opposite iside of the house. "There they are!" , Severance looked across as the newcomers entered the box opposite. First came' Lady Heston, large, handsome, and imposing, in pale blue; next came i Clare, all in white as usual, and looking very lovely. Lorraine followed j ■ her in a thin black gown—her favour- | I ite evening dress —a great spray of ' [ white flowers upon her corsage. The I barrister withdrew his gaze, meeting ! Mrs Moorfield's vivacious glance. ] "Night and morning!" she said j expressively. "They look so, Mion't they?"' ''l Suppose they do. They are sufficiently in contrast, certainly." "In all ways. They are well galled foster sisters! They would Mstlsii hj•• good picture with that titlG ftnd dressed as they are now. Clare looks sweetly pretty," x '! "As she always does. And Miss La-t-ouche?" "Lorraine ? Ais she always does—as though she had left her girlhood behind her." She laughed, glanciiig across at the opposite T>ox again. "Is Lady Heston's party complete, do you know?" "I heard no one else mentioned yesterday. Why?" "There is an empty chair." "I see there is. What of tliat?" "Merely that I fancy it will not remain like ours —empty all the evening. And it is close behind Lorraine's, , I see. Just where it should be. Really, Lady Heston manages very nicely indeed!" "I'm afraid I don't understand you." Severance felt that his fice flushed, that his voice changed, knew that he turned with & suddenness of gesture not at all like 'himself. "May I ask what an empty chair has to do with Miss Latouche?" "An empty chair? Nothing whatever. But you will see it filled directly. He will not be long behind her. ;: "He?" The tone of the word made Tom, examining the stalls through his glasses, look round surprised. "May I ask. whom you mean 'by 'he' ?" "Whom? Really, I wonder why you men were ever given such superfluities as eyes!" Mrs Moorfiejd said derisively. Glancing across the house again, she pointed with her fan. "Look, if you want to know!" A gentleman had entered the opposite box and was at the moment tending over Lorraine's ehair. Her hand was in bis. The light as he stood was well upon him; it showed his port- | ly, well-set-up figure, Iris handsome rich coloured face, with its slightly Hebraic cast. It seemed to Severance that the place had become oppressively hot. He half rose from his chair. "Rosenthal!" he said. And. then, "Good heavens, Mrs Moorfield, do yoii mean to tell ine "Hus-.s-sh!" Mrs Moorfield whispered. Her hand touched his and he sat down. ,