T0 THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10440, 4 October 1911, Page 2

T0 THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER XXll—Continued

"Hollows in her checks and hollows i)nder liar eyes," he .said. "I think L hiive punished you, enough, Lorraine." "Punished me?" Her hand was clasped in his. "Do you think I should have stayed away three weeks if I had not meant to punish you ?? I was brute enough to say that as you made me suffer yo\i should suffer, too. All, those letters! Did they come back very easily, I wonder?" "Don't speak of them!"

"I understand. Wo will change the subject—at present I decline any mow tragedy. But for the fear that it might produce tragical results and interfere with the present comfortable position of things, I should demand to know what you really did mean by your abominable behaviour. As it is, I'll compromise on a kiss, and ask you nothing further." "You don't really want to know?" she said doubtfully.

"No" —ho lightly parodied her tone, "at the present moment I don't really want anything but the kiss. The fact that you declined to marry me loses all interest before the fact tiiat you are going to marry me. One of these days, when we are hard up for a subject, you shall explain yourself. It falls to my lot to ask so many questions professionally mainly of the kind that are unpleasant to answer, by the way— that I prefer .to ask as few as possible in private life. I'll only remark that the absurdity of your stating that you are not a fit wife for mo when you are the only possible wifo for me is, in any imaginable combination of circumstances, too obvious for comment." "Is it?" she asked in a. whisper. "Is it rot? Ah, I can hardly forgive you, after all! How you made mo suffer!"

"All, clearest, you would forgive it you knew what it had been to me!" She sobbed, and lie, angry with himself for that lapse from the light tone which he assumed to soothe her, clasped her close as she clung to him. Both were silent for a little while, the mere presence of each other satisfying too fully for either to need words. She broke the silence as slowly she raised her eyes to his. "I was wondering," she said quietly, "whether it is possible that I shall be able to make it up to you." "Make it up to me?" Imagining that he understood, he laughed. "Well, remembering that we might have sat as we sit now any time these three weeks, it will take some doing. But we have time before us, including the long vacation, which is a special privilege under the circumstances — and you can try." "I don't mean that. I will make that up. I mea.n all you have lost."

"What I have lost? What .is that?" "You must know." "Must I? But I don't know. At present I am too entirely absorbed in all that I have gained to recollect anything/else. What do you mean?" "Oh, you must know!" She caught the hand that was caressing and loos-, ening her hair. "I can only mean Redbourne."

"Redbourne? Oh, I had forgotten. Yes, I have certainly lost the chance of making you mistress of it." "Is that all you say?" "I say all I feel. A fortune aib the bar as not the easiest tiling in the world to win in spite of old Moorfield's exuberant prophecies. I may never make you a rich woman. And, as far as that goes, I admit that I regret Redbourne." "Because of me?",she asked. "Wholly and solely because of you. My regret for it for myself was very soon over. Make that up to me!" He laughed with his lips' on hers. "Why don't you go a step farther and ask me which. I would rather have, you or it?" "Do I know?" she asked whispering.

"A (thousand times too well to need telling, I hope, or I make love very badly." A sudden thought made him smile. "By the way, do yoii know that we are not the only couple that are engaged in this pleasant occupation?" "You mean " With a start she looked at him questioningly. "Glare and young Seton? Exactly. I encountered them in the house m circumstances which gave them away as hopelessly as ours would do us at the present moment. She told me where to find you, and I was in siich a torment to find you that for my life I couldn't confidently say whether I congratulated them or not. If not we will make a change of it. You did know?" "Yes; they told me just before you came. Until then I " She broke off. "Were you surprised?" she asked. "No." "Then you thought it would happen?" "Yes, sooner or later." He read her look and answered it. "Clare is not of the calibre to make herself unhappy long. That letter did her good service in opening her eyes, and that flirtation of his —of which, by the way Seton first told me —finished the matter. She is a dear little creature, and not set to a tragic note, fortunately for .herself. Whatever happened, Clare would never break her heart." It was inevitable that he should as he said it recall with amazed amusement the time when lie had honestly believed himself to be in love with Clare, and doing so it was equally

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

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

CHAPTER XXIV,

natural and necessary that his arm should tighten aboxit Lorraine's waist and his lips touch hers again Returning the kiss, she drew back from Mm a little.

"You could see that?" sho said. "You who had seen her so little, had cared for her so little, who had known her sucli a short time, understood her well enough to know that? And I, who loved and watched her all her life, never knew, never guessed. I always thought that she was like me." "Like you?"

"In that way. If you had left me just now, if you had never come back, if you had never even said that you loved me at all, it would have made no difference. I should never have forgotten—there would have been no other man in my heart all my life long. And Olaro is different—sho can change, can forget—can be happy." He might have wondered at the violence of the sudden passion of tear"with which she clung to him but for his remembrance of the stress of emotion under which she 'had struggled a | little time before. He was wise enough to let her sob herself quiet, only whispering a word or two of fondness and soothing now and then. And so they were whispering when a white figure flashed across the grass and Clare stood there, wide-eyed and wondering. "Oh!" cried Clare. "Oh—oh!" in an ascending scale of amazement. Then in a moment she was at Loi\raine's side and her loving arms were about her. "Oh, my darling, I'm >-o glad—so happy for you!" she cried. "This is what has been the matter — this is why you have been getting whiter and quieter every day. Ah, if I had known, he should never have stayed away from you for three weeks! I would have gone and brought him." She released herself from the other's embrace and turned to Severance with sparkling eyes, holding out her hands eagerly. "And you ? How dare you stay away, making her unhappy? If you looked as if you had enjoyed it I would never forgive you, but you don't. Well, you don't deserve my Lorraine —nobody does —but since she has condescended to be fond of you —there you may have her! And as you are going to marry my sister, why, just for once, you may kiss your cousin, even if Harry is looking over there!" She ; laughingly gave and received the kiss and gayly pushed him away. "Go over and tell him the news directly—l want to talk to Lorraine. Don't come , back till you are called, either of you, because we are going to pull you both [to .pieces in comfort. No," I'll tell [ him myself because he wouldn't believe it when I told li/im that I guessed what you had come down for. I'll he back in a moment, dearest." She ran after Severance across the grass, taking his arm, and they both joined Harry at the bottom of the slope. Lorraine stood where she was, erect, looking at them, but her eyes saw only her lover's figure. She was deathly white again, her eyes were glittering, and the hand she pressed upon her heart was clenched. ■ ''Fate too strong for me?" she I said, repeating the words he had used. "No; for the moment it is I who am too strong for Fate. Too strong because I love him! But in the end which way will the victory i turn?"

The doorway of the east wing of Redbourne stood wide open to the brilliant sunshine. Toward the group of .trees which crowned the gentle slope in front Clare Throckmorton's pretty figure was advancing, loose ends of the sash around 'her waist billowing gently dn the soft breeze. And just within the doorway, standing so that its heavy drooping creepers surrounded her white figure with a living green frame, was Lorraine Latouche, her foster sister. There was a faint tinge of scarlet in the cheeks usually so pale; the glorious colour of her haur glowed in that tender shadow. To eyes other than ?er lover's she must have been beautiful just- then; to ihim she was only more entirely lovely than he had ever seen her yet. Standing a little behind her, 'lie put his arms about her, so that she Tested against him. "Thfe cure seems pretty complete," he said, smiling. , "Clare's, you mean? Oh, I hope so! She was singing this morning in her room before she dressed; it is long since I heard her do that. She will meet Harry before she gets far, I expect, and then we shan't see them until tea-time. Must, you really go back to town to-night?" " 'Must' is hardly the word, with the long vacation bearly a week old, but I think I had better." He hesitated, thinking a great deal more of the eyes that looked at liim than of the words they waited for. "To tell you the exact truth, I am not comfortable staying at Redbourne." "You mean— : —" "Well, I mean that it belongs to Sir Derek Willoughby." (To be Continued.)