HELD IN BONDAGE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10529, 16 January 1912, Page 2

HELD IN BONDAGE.

OUR SERIAL.

BY L. F. DAGRE. Author of "Sin&ad's Va&ey," A Phantom of the Past," "The Shadow of Shame," "Sir John's Heirese," "A Daughter of Mystery," etc.

CHAPTER XXVl—Contin ued

vShn helped the excited and chattering Dolly out of tli© oarriage, and as lier hand pressed the latch of the sm'den gate, Aunt Ellon appeared from one of the .mazy ways, her hands outstretched, a welcome on her lips. Sh<« mas wearing a big sunbomnet and thick garden glove.s, and Margaret stared at her in almost breathless surprise. "Why, Auntie, you are as brown as a, coffee berry, and you are looking splendid." "iMy darling girl! An object in life, no matter how simple, is the finest tonic in the world." She spoke serenely, and kissed her lieice with fond affection, then turned to Dolly, .and ■hugged her. "So this is Mr Ward's little girl? Come to stay with Aunt Benson for a long, long time." Tthe cabman came puffing along with one of the trunks. He pretended that it was tremendously Heavy,,and when told to carry all the luggage upstairs, lie shook 'his 'head doubtfully. Was there nobody to help ? The promise of an extra shilling, however, imbued him with giantlike strength, and the lob was done.

When the garden gate clicked after his departing figure, it seemed to Margaret that the peace and loveliness of her aunt's rustic home was enveloping and soothing her like holy incense

"The tress a summer home of murmurous wings." Oh, there was so much to talk about, and the .placidity of Aunt Ellen gave wiay to gentle excitement. "Your father is coming down on Sunday, to see you, and Edith Jonso'i. I've sent a telegram to each of them. A very terrible bereavement for Mr Ward, is it not—the .sudden death of his wife? Have you a sore throat, dear?"

This was over the afternoon in the gardeni. . ( • \ , ''A scratch —a foolish little accident. I sihall "be go glad to see dad. He must ■tiMn.V that lam <a heartless girl. Mrs Wwrd was mentally afflicted, and had .a weak heart. Siho had lived mucix longer than it-he doctors anticipated. Poor woman:! she is now at peace. I 'should liko to stay here- always, aunt, ie, if you can manage it." "Of course we can—we will," cried Mrs Benson. "I am rather lonely sometimes; I hear voices in the trees at night, and I iam 'a tiny hit frightened! We can make a great deal of money from the chickens. I have more thia.n a hundred now, and thee" 1 go to the dealers in Leatheiihead. They 1 fetch them twice a week,, and pay cash, t sold seven pounds' worth of eggs in four weeks. I can hire another field for an extra five pounds, with space for a thousand more fowls, runs, and incubators, and all that .sort of thing. "Splendid!" cried Margaret, her eyes shining. Aamt Ellen produced a notebook from her pocket. "I've been calculating that we can , earn another two pounds a week, after paying; a boy to do the rough work. Here are the figures, and I have based them upon the instruction in a book on poultry that cost', me two and sixpence." So the first, and the second, and toe third day passed, and Margaret was in dreamland. Nothing.but blue sldea, and brilliance, and incense. Then her father surprised h'ei in the garden. He oame swiftly over the grass, and took Margaret in his arms. - • "My poor little Meg!" he said chokingly. ■ "Your wicked, rebellious, and horrid Meg," she half laughed and half cried. He took a seat beside her, lioldiug one of her hands. "So itibia is wHtgtp Ave 'have .afternoon tea., eh?"' "Wo get all our meals out here, Septimus. Why didn't you bring your wife?" He reddened guiltily. "Oh, she was too busy. Won't you give mo -s cu<p of tea. lam so tired." He took off/his hat and mopped his forehead. "It must be five miles to Woodlea from the station." "Three," corrected Aunt EP.mi. "Two lumps of sugar, and plenty of milk," "Thank you, Ellen. Truly this is an ideal spot for a brainworkor. I could double .my income if I had such a nice place as this."He drank his tea at a gulp, aid tendered his cup for more, j "I've brought some news for Meg,"' he said, "and a letter. Oh, Edith Janson is coming to-morrow. We shall j have quite >a party." ' "News for me?" Margaret asked, her lips tightening. "I wish yoa aaci not, dad. I have been so happy her«~. I What—what is .it?" "Well, it is rather good, I should say. A marvellous change has come

or or Georgo Aston." "Quick dad —quick!" Margaret then panted. "All low proceedings are stopped, my dear." "Against you?" "Against everybody, and he has sent an ample apology to Maxwell, and lias paid all expenses. I suppose there is something, of the kind for you. Here's his letter to you—rgistere-i, care of me, for he did not have your .address " With trembling fingers Margaret took .the letter. She looked at the writing oai the outside, but it was a mere blur. Her heart .had given o/ie convulsive leap, and now stood cold and ?idl. ' "If you dor.'t. mind, dad, I wili go up to my room and read it." , "Alright, iuy dear j off with you, and got it over." He watched the swaying form till it disappeared, and thvi turar-i to his sister. "Heaven knows my anxiety is almost as great as Meg's. She will never go to Aston; I know her too well for that, and I am hoping that she is agreeahle to some form of mutual separation). Some wonderful influence must have softened his heart towards me, and it may be extended to my poor cfeild. Surely no grief can come into this enchanted garden of yours, Ellen?" . A half hour passed, and Mirgaret re-appeared on the lawn.. Her face was colourless, but her ryes were Shining with a new light. She came to tlhe table, and both saw that she was tremulous with pleasure. "Diad, it's alright. I thought that God liad hidden his face away from roe for ever. I wias wrong. Read tlte Jettea" to auntie, while I write to Mr Ward." She dropped it into his hand,-and fled with a happy laugh—a Laugh that was wild and free.

(To be Continued.)