HELD IN BONDAGE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10495, 5 December 1911, Page 2

HELD IN BONDAGE.

OUR SERIAL.

BY L. F. DAORE.

Author of "Sinibad's VaMey," A Phantom of the Past," "The Shadow of Shame," "Sir John's Hedmesa," "A Daughlter of Mystery," etc.

CHAPTER I —Continued. > ilhe door .

"liow foolish you are Margaret," her aunt feebly protested. "This i:-\ indeed, shocking news, Mr Aston! Septimus mus" have ib'een mad, unless the lady is wealthy. The poorness of tho living 'here lhas worritKl him for a long time." "Wealthy!" sneered Margaret, sobbing—choking. "My poor aunt, this neic wife is Polly Qreen, the daughter iof the village plumber. You mu®t remember her well enough—a fair-hair-ed, baby-looking simpleton, as artful, as a traijiiload of monkeys. She used to be in the diioir; Mien wont in for the ladyVcompanion business, and father met her in Switzerland, travelling with old Mrs Monet cm. Oh, good heavens, I shall never get over the disgrace of it!" I Ceai-go Aston was silent.

"We are not likely to be interrupted, Miss Thornton?" "No. A lint ElleiL is assTeep by this tilme, aind the two servants are washing the dinner things." "Weil, sit down somewhere, and; we'll get to business." ' Miargaret dropped into aw easy chair, and Aston, walked: over to the window with his broad! baok to lier. She realised then what a tower of strength the man wa.s. Perfectly dressed and groomed, a magnificent ctianuoud ring on a finger of his left hand, he appeared) to be the embodiment of wealth and power. She knew also that he was something greater than mereQ'y oleyer—he was spoken, of as inventor —si goiiuus. Tjl£

tnew.spiapeais mentioned, his name in tea-rns of awe. A wonderful mart, jferoely determined, utterly persistent, a conqueror of the unattainable-

"We will go away together, Margaret," her aunt whispered quaveringly. "My annuity will keep us from starvation. My poor father -always said that Soptimn;; was tilio fool of t'lio faznily." ; "I. won't be a burden upon you, Aunt Ellen. No, my mind is thoroughly "13do lip. 1 intend to earn my own living, and Mr Aston has promisee: tto help me."

Be turned from the window, and da-awing a chair in front of Margaret, slat down, and surveyed bier in silence'for a ful' minute. She faced him unwaveringly, until he spoke:

She allowed sigi-.s oi' breaking down, and: George Alston nodded encouragingly ) then he took a. cigar case iron; his coat pocket, and got up.

"I'll have a smoke out o fdoors." he said to Margaret, in a low voice. "Meet me in the parlor in half an hour's time. Will you?" "Of course I will." She snatched Impujlsiively at one of his big, brown li&ndis. "Qh, Mr Aston, you acre the ionly friend I have in the wide World 1"

OH&KTER II

A HEART IN PAWN

iTJie liialf liour of waiting was all itoo long for Margaret, and in the interval she read her flatter's horrifying tetter again.

Thought Ibea* heart was cold, her very fingers tingled with; indignation, atnger, audi outraged pride. And »'tsids is the letter "Mjy .'deai' : daughter: If I could afI would never live in England a_ "gain. Eigjht slfoort weeks in Switzerland have made a mew man of me. '®b(B blue -skaee, the bright jsunelhiae, ~in'e clear, sweet air, tltrill and ededjirtrify one's whole system. The heart f becomes buoyant, the mind clear, free, and elastic. Althtough I am : isixty years of age," ("'sixty-five" 1 Margaret thought with curfing lip), feel almost Dike a. boy again, and ] Molds poesiWiili(tie& that I never i'direamed of in our smoky old l town. \Wllien I do come hiome I shall l preach. >some cjwakeming sermons! e "Nbw, my dear *daugjhter, knowing fyhow devoted you are to your dear oldl jifeither" ("I thought he Was young jnagaSai," muttered Margaret) "I am! feending you a bit of news that ougjhlfc -to please you, ioi; my whole life's 1 ' (happiness iis bound up an it. Yau j aire a broad-minded girl, without ,-an atom of jealousy or selfishness in l yoiuT disposition, and I look to you (to .ease ithe nine days' wonder' that is sure to agitate the weak_ Qxsjaided! and miisctevous l among; our •people when tliey hear that I have married again. Y« ®, my dear, the • ceremony ,wa&jperformed here thlis very dtay, and my wife is a youngjs3i| womiam whom you know very wietll— I Miss Gpeen, who taught in the Sain- j . day «c3m>ol and was in the cfhoir for! somtf years. She was always a good, 1 lamMtdous girl, and I met her heriel on the day of my arrival, quite a#c&- ! dlemtoaly. Well, J need say no more on tdps l (point, but 1 reflly on you to smooth the way for our homecoming lin a month's time, and I know that you and <my wife will get along splendidly. ' Yiour aumjt Ellen wild! take fhe change as a matter of coursefor nothing will l affecit h:er, as sfhto is quite indejpendent of me, or anyone -el'se*. My wife's friends have not yet fceea notified, but I may write to somebody else of influence. "I f'iuilil expect 'a nice letter from you in the course of a few days. ' Your affectionate father, "SEPTIMUS THORNTON." • When "George Aston caane quietly into tiie room, s3ie was still reading ithe Tetter. She held it out to htm, saying: ' "That exp'aiaits everything. Ytou, it ajpfpeoirs, are somebody else of influence." "Yes, he knows tliiat I am interested in Mm andl his darughiter.' ' "How good of you, Mr Aston, and my heart reproaches me. I have never really liked you till now." If the blood 1 was damping in his yeins, his face showed nothing. He (returned the lfettef to lier and olosed

"I haven't the least idea at pre-sent. I must work at something. You employ -hundreds of people, 'Mr Aston."

He smiled,hia black eyes roving over her face.

"I am well aware,' he went on, ".that'you paint pretty little pictures; that you are a fair musician, and do bits of fancy work with wool a aid cot£an.' A

"Idling way' my time, you mean. None of tlhese things are of practical use." "I beg to differ, Miss Thornton, for witlh©ut sudh accomplislh/ments a: woman loses half her charm.'' "Useless in a factory or an office. If you think I.am unfitted for anything but a nursery governess, or a lady's slave, weliad better end the discussion for I will fnever be either. I would sooner peddle tea,:or Jbe a militant suffragette. I understand that the violently active suffragettes are paid a wage, and occasionally get free board and lodging at the government's expanse." The unflinching eyes "were filled witih disappointment and ; pain. George Aston looked away for' a moment; then his mouth tightened, and he drew his chair a few inches nearer to Margaret. "

"You can'it pant up wifth tha& sort of tluing. Tee idea of doing the meek •and diutiful is utterly preposterous'.". "Haven't we gone over that already, Mr Aston? Even if my father were a well-to-do man I could not endure it. As it is, we are abominably poor. I never got a new frock till after the Easter offerings, and with another to feed and clothe it will be a case of drifting to the poorhouse. I know that when I get anything new to wear people are reckoning up where it came from. Why, out of their pockets, of course. A special appeal is made for the vicar to enable him to pay the tradesmen's bills, and quite poor people feel it their duty to dole out sixpences. I don't think I could have gone on much longer in the old rut but now I"

She shivered and looked up at him desperately appealingly. "± quite understand," he,.said gently. "The position is insulting, humiliating, quite untenable, and your father's conduct a crime. Now that's done w'itlh and I want to know what you think you are going to do."

,f I intend offering you something." "Oh, how kind of you!" She rose, breathless, her hands outstretched. "There — : t'here, sit down. But I want to know something of your qualifications. What do you think you can do?" There was something in 'his tone that she could not understand, and her eyes were watching him in embarrassed wonder.

"My child," lie began, his voice softening, "I am going to offer you a position in my household, but I must ask you a few questions, to which I expect straightforward answers. As this is a matter of supreme importance to me —to both of us —there must be no half confidences, no equivocations. I am accounted a hard man, and I can be a ruthless and implacaible enemy when I find that-1 have beeai deceived. What success I liave achieved is due to my being master of myself, and master of everything and everybody about me." (To !>o Continued.)