A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10541, 25 January 1912, Page 2

A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS.

OUR SERIAL.

By Mrs De Winter Baker, Author of "The Sin of Carine," "Sir Blandford's Protegee," "For "Weal or Woe," etc.

CHAPTER V —Continued. They continued to chat for some tiint wh.ie Lettico leisurely sipped at her ii.eJThen Mrs Parfitt went on ilruut her duties, and half an hour later, clad in white muslin, Lettico tripped Imhtly downstairs and out inco grounds of the castle. The pure fragrance of the_ lilacscented air and tho invigorating sea breeze greeted her nostrils with exquisite relief after tho hot, dust-lad-en air of london. "How exquisite it all is I" she murmured to herself, '-i quiet content, and oanie anon to, tJie Lime Tree Walk Without hesitation she entered the long, shady avenue of stately ti'eeSj, pausing for a moment at the very spot wiheru the figure pf the previous night lia/i vanished. "To think that I could have been so foolish as to imagine that it was a ghost!" she mused with a childish laugh. A scrap of white material lying at the foot of a tree caught her eye. Hastily stooping to pick it up she saw' that it was a handkerchief —_ a small square of coarse, cheap cambric, such as a maid would use. There was a name embroidered Ja a corner —embroidered well, to?, evidently by .some expert needlewoman. Lettico read the name "Margaret" and without further ado thrust it into her blouse. She would give it to Mrs Parfitt presently, and ask her to return it to the maid who had dropped it. Suddenly the sound of cautiously approaching footsteps caused her/ to step behind (the trunk of a tree near which she stood. Some instinct seemed to wain her that an enemy was at hand.

Peeping furtively along the avenue she saw Mark Jason coming slowly. His eyes were fixed on the ground, and Ins head was jerking from side to side uneasily, as though lie were looking for something. Instantly Lettice remembered the. handkerchief' securely hidden in her blouse. This was wliat he. was .looking for, of courselHis" path aaust .lead past den, and lie etiuld not foil to' isCe her; Not a moment was to lie lost if she was to escape' .detection.. She must meet: cunning with cunning if she was to beat this man at his. own game. Silently as a mouse she flitted to a further tree, near which, a cloister of laurels promised a successful line of retreat. Pausing for a moment to look back, she observed with satisfaction that the chaplain's eyes were still fixed on the ground in front of him.

Stooping low, Lettice now dived into the laurels, as an otter dives into the stream; Working her way through as quietly as possible in order to avoid shaking "wig branches, and so betraying her presence, she emerged, untidy, but triumphant, onto a small side path. Here slie stopped to smooth her hair and adjust her dress. On the far side of-'the laurels she oould hear the slow tread of Mark Jason, as he passed. He was muttering to himself, but she could not hea. what he was saying. ' , Lettice tiptoed away in the opposite direction as soon as he had passed. The path she followed now came to a magnificent sunken garden—a bower of gorgeous bloom. Over one of the quaintly designed beds a man's figure was stooping. He was clad in white flannel, an old college blazer, and a -shady panama hat. He appeared to be busily engaged in picking flowers. t ,- -

For some moments Lettice stood motionless, het* heart beating strangely, her pulses tingling with .some excitement she did not understand. Some electric wave nujst have gone out from her to thf> stooping figure, for Sir Eric suddenly started up iand snatched the pipe from his mouth. "By jove," he cried, "you gave me quite a start, Miss Lascelles. Good morning. How are you?" There was a slight stammer about his greeting that confused Lettice not a little. "Good morning, Sir Eric," she, returned, in. a voice thai quavered 1111us;:;,:]]y. "May I come down into the lovely garden?" Sir Eric sprang to help her down the sloping, grassy bank, and brought her safely to the path on which he stood, alongside the bed of many-hued pansies at which he had ben so very busy. ,

At,- aii' of shyness, of resei-ve, seemed to hang over the young nounle now — it was as though neither could find something to say. Lettice braced herself within effort.

"Please continue smoking. I know your pipe is in your pocket. I love the scent of good tobacco." The yomi" man fumbled in the pocket of'his blazer, and produced the pipe with a look of gratitude. "Tell me," he began, "how did .•you sleep last night. Miss Lascelles?"

"Oh, very well, indeed', thank you."

1 "That's splendid—so did I. It's the air down here. I seo yon are a. believer in early risiy=c." Sir Eric bent to pick up a basket of freshly-picked flowei-s that lay in the pansy bed as he spoke. "Yes. J t-hink the early moraine; is quite the most delightful part of the day. Don't you?" There was still something strangely formal about LeUice's manner. She seemed quit© sihy this morning. and it puzzled Sir Eric, ft worud not-have puzzled him, however, were he permitted to peep into' a little fluttering 'heart .beneath

(To be Continued.)

that cool, white muslin blouse. } "The flowers always look their best at this time, too," ho agreed. "And, by tho way, I thoughtr—l wondered if you cared for flowers." He held tlio basket toward her. "For me?" Lesttice's eyebrow* ivore curved high on her brow, her fac* was one brilliant smile of gratitude and delight. "Oh, 'how lovely! how kind of you to pick them for me, Sii Eric! I shall make my room look mor© heavenly than ever with these charming blooms." . „. "I was sure that you loved flowers," Eric went on softly, though he hardly knew what 'he was saying. Th. picture .presented by Lettico as she stood there in the ibrilliant sunlight seemed to deprive him altogether oi. the power of coherent thought. The freshness, the sheer loveliness of thi: golden-haired nymph of the morning intoxicated his brain. He was seizeo with a consuming desire to fling, bis arms round her and strain her supple, yielding figure to liis heart. Almost unconsciously 'he moved a step nearer to the girl. Then with an angry gpsture he pulled his pipe froni his mouth Lettice's face was still hidden i. the sweet-smelling flowers. The yor mail's arms were stretched out to enfold her. They were touching her she did not move. "Good morning, Sir Eric. Gooci morning, Miss Lascelles." Ihe smooth, oily voice sounded u;. above their heads. With an exclamation of utter disgust and annoyam at iahis intrusion, 9lb Erie starto back aJ id raised his eyes. - ■ Coming towa.rtf them ; .Y' ' . on^lie>er..oa.^sal.loW-cface. m ( -.. ■ pronounced th-ui ever.

CHAPTER, VIJI. Sullenly, and with obvious reluct-' ance, Sir Eric returned the chaplain ' greeting. Lettice, overcome with norvousness,, turned away. Don't go!" said the young man, noticing her movement, "I will soon get rid of this unwelcome intruder. He spoke under his breath, but Mark Jason 'had no difficulty iji guessing the purport of his remarks, inaudible as they were.

"It is almost time for prayers," he said in an unctuous- voice. ''May T conduct you to the chapel, Miss Las-' celles?"

Lattice was iu a quandary.. She hardly knew which way to look. .Almost fiercely Sir Eric now turned to the chaplain.

101 got<Jiie?ss sake cease your pestering, Jason. Miss Lasoelles las a fxee will. If desires • , saw Mark Jason wince. ibe~ Mir the ksli of Sir Erie's words, • and secretly rejoiced. She was fur- £ r a nsd to s »'« k »•>' <»■%

"I know my way to the chapel, Mr Jason, thank you/ ; she observed a little curtly; "so there is 110 need to trouble you," With a muttered ejaculation Mark [Jiason turned on his heel and Wan, i towce tlhe path above the garden j wittli jsiow, heavy -steps. ' j -Erie now produced 'his pipe again. , and carefully buried the-match head 111 ,tlie "ower garden. .{Jone now was j that moment of ecstasy to which he | had been worked up -to by the mere presence of the beautiful girl.". The chaplain's stooping form' in the seedy [Mack coat still paced resolutely up and down.-; very much' likea sentry on. syiard.' &veli' as shadow" vanishes when clouds 'Otbscure the sun, so did romance vanish from the 'lovely garden be-ieath the dismal influence of the intruding chaplain. Sir Eric watching the man's sentrylike to-ead, frowned and bit his lip". "Come ito the other side," lie, said to Lettice in an undertone ,and hirrisef moved away to a spot where they would be out of earshot.

I ''Mass fLasceHes," lie went on j quickly wlien they were far enough | away, "touching this matter of the i morning prayers, I know! you will I forgive me if I speak very plainly to jyou. It is another of my mother's j rules to have a small service everv morning before breakfast. Now I make it a practice to purposely absent myself from the service when T am on a visit to Trevella;. Castle. Need I tell you why ?" "It is (because of—of ':<tr Jason," .she mentioned With a glance of per-tnruai-io.n in the direction of the , chaplain. . "Yes, Miss Lascelles. It'is because of Mr Jason. To my mind it is nothing short or sacrilege to see that man posturing at the altar. But my mother .seems absolutely fascinated by Hiim.. Whether he is actually in ■holy orders or aiot L have never been able to find out, ibut I 'wanted to tell you this, so that you should not misunderstand me. I never go into the chapel at all nowadays."