AFTER RELEASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10589, 22 March 1912, Page 2

AFTER RELEASE.

OUR SERIAL.

By VIOLET M. FLINN, Author of "The Master Passion, "What Shall It Profit?" "Verenu." "By Devious Paths," Etc.

CHAPTER Vl—Continued.

Hermione felt strangely regretful as she went to take leave of her hostess that the visit had coino to an end. Mrs .Ra.wa rdo took her hand and drew her faco to hers.

"I like you, my dear," she said softly. "You remind me of my youth. Come and"see me again. Wo are going to be friends, you and I. 1 can tell that.' '

"Yes, I will come again," and in her life Hermione h,ad never spoken with -such warm impulsiveness.

CHAPTER VII

Joint Trcsidder's landlord had looked askance on the extremely dilapidated remnant of humanity established in his tenant's room, kind the doctor hastily summoned had at once declared that it was a ease for a hospital. But Tresidder had a way of disarming prejudice mid taking his own way without aggressively asserting it, and so the stranger, remained where he was and fought his life and death struggle with trained'nurses to help him, and every luxury at his command.

The doctor, who was young, and had not. lost a personal interest in his patients, could not understand Mr Tresidder's anxiety that the patient should live. He w.as obviously a wastrel and one whoso record held dark stains, for in his stage of acute exhaustion, when ho lay several days in a semi-conscious condition, the revelation of past character on his face could not be disguised One morning tfie doctor lifted the heavy hand lying on the quilt, and looked curiously, at the broken, stubby nails, the broadened, wealed hands. "Dartmoor or Portland," ho said to himself, and looked down with renewed interest .at the face on the pillow. 'Bad through iana through, yet he must have been good-looking. I wonder why on earth Mr Tresidder is so anxious that he should live? I should have thought that his friends and relatives would have wished otherwise." The nurse had her own. view of the matter.

"I've thought he is or was a gentleman. One night, when he was very delirious, he kept talking to someone about the duke, and then he threatened to tell the duchess. I think he is horrid now, but I think 110 has been somebody"in Kis day."

J ''So am I. Th strange tbingis that lie reminds me of "someone I know, i though I can't recall.who it'isf But j every family, not matter Jiow very ' aristocratic, have their black sheep." i Tresidder took no one into his confidence. Even when the duke asked after tiie invalid, he answered the question but did not pursue it. * But one morning meeting AccidentVally. as Tresidder took his constitutional in St. James' Park, lie Juid a variation in the reply given him. "How's your friend?" Ludworth asked gaily. "Has he bolted with tho spoons yet? He has not'cut your throat so far." • v ; Tr6sidder!s, grave face reslaxed; bis (expression, brightened. He was growing very foMd of tlie yoimgduke.' - "He is taking a turn for the better,' •I am glad to say. He was conscious yesterday." • "And what are you going to do with him when, lie is well?" . "I shall use him for tho purpose for which he has ben sent into my bands,". Tresidder answered gravely. The young, man realised that it Af as no idle whim or philanthropic gratification that was moving tho elder man. • For a moment be was silent, deep in thought, but he roused himself, looking at Ludwortn .with his usual kindly smile. "I thought you were out of town, duke?" Ludworth looked a little sheepish. ' "Xo-o —it's not exactly hunting weather —too much frost and—or —the (Trains are up at Ludworth House, so —er —l. am just lob'kTng round.' "I wish I could persuade you to ta-ko an interest in important tilings," Tresidder said, with a smile that disarmed tho remark of any trace-of interference. "Your father's son should be jio idler." "That's what—" Lmdworth began and stopped short, colouring ingenuously. "I am afraid I'm an awful slacker," he isaid, "I'm beginning to feel awfully ashamed of myself. I suppose I ought, to make more use of tho things I do.'„' "1 am sure you could,' "Tresidder answered. "You are no fool, Ludworth, though I think you like people to believe you are." I The young man grinned. " Well, it saves one a lot of trouble, j doesn't it? But still, I have been thinking - things over, and —and Do you know Vivian Oourtice?" be ! asked abruptly. "He's an awfully decent parson, in tho East End —St. Ole- ! ment's. I used to know him rather ' well Allien I was at the House, but I i lost sight of him for some time until recently. I've seen a good deal oi" ihim lately. AJi, wheal I see how some people work and live for others while they themselves can only just keep their heads above water, it . makes me feel I ought to kick myself. And they have got principles and ideals, and live up to 'em. And you'd think they had every excuse for taking all they coukl get —'but 110, not if it is against , their principles ! It makes me feel I | am a thorough'failure." "It sounds involved. Do you allude, to the parson or some of ibis flock?"

Ludworth reddened. "I have been down there a good deal lately,' he said, rather lamely, and plunged into another topic.

(To be continued,)

' "Tommy whisked Fluff after that time she. fainted, you' remember? I had a letter from him this morning ; he seems rather worried about her, poor old boy." Tresidder looked concerned. • "I am very sorry. I had hoped to renew my acquaintance with Lady Flora. I thought she might have been able to help me. I suppose she has never mentioned Stanton Neal to you, has she?' lie asked slowly. : The duke shook his head.

I "Stanton Neal-.no. Who—oh, 1 remember! You asked me that quesI tion before. I don't think she "ever I knew him. I never have asked her, I but she never had many friends till 'she was married. I never heard the ' name until you mentioned it. Would j Fluff know it?" "I think so. He used to be a great I friend of your uncle's some years ago. She must havo known him." Ludworth flushed again. "Was he mixed up with that beastly soandal?' he demanded, and then laughed shortly. "I suppose it is common property, in spite of all that was done to hush it up, but I really know nothing about it except the broad outlines that one naturally gathers from the servants' gossip. I was a child at that time, but when I came of age"— he made a half pause, looking qu,eerly at Tresidder as if some doubt or sudden recollection had assailed him "and,it was not a thing I wanted to talk about." "Naturally not,' Tresidder assented, "and perhaps you are wondering why I, who am not a .relative, -not even an old friend, should reopen a painful subject, more especially when I tell you that I have never saw and never heard of this man Neal until twelve months ago. But it is a long story, and this is not the place in which to discuss it. Besides,' he added, "it is only conjecture so far. I ought not to say anything .until suspicion becomes a certainty, if indeed, it ever does." Ludworth heard him with a. little curiosity that was, however, not so great as to make him enquire further, j There Avas only one part of an unpleasI ant story of a past generation that lie 1 knew accurately—the part of which j Tresidder apparently knew nothing — t and it was not of such a character to wake him want to know more. He was morbidly sensitive as to that blot on the family escutcheon ; it had been the bane of his schoolboy days, and -now that it had sunk into well-deserved oblivion he wpuld be .no party to dragging it into memory again. Besides, it did not concern him as it had all been over and one with when lie was born, and for the present, with which those uncles and aunts had. nothing to do, wa,? all important.' He knew very little of Stanton Neal, and he did not want to know more. He had other matters far more important to engross his atention and interest. And Tresidder recognised this —recognised, too, that youth must ever look forward and age look back —and pursued the subject jig further. ■. * • - When ho returned to his rooms he found j use leaving-..' , : "Your kindness is heing rewarded, i Mr Tre-sidder,' he said. "Unless very unlikely complications occur, your—invalid ishould do well." Tresidder's lips moved silently. "That is good news,' he said. "When do you think he caii "hear conversation?" Doctor Morrey's eyebrows became slightly raised. "Well, it depends on the nature of the conversation. A few questions on general topics might do good, but it wouldn't do to worry or excite him.too soon. He is still very. weak. It has been touch and go with him. Nurse Hall tells me he. is very curious as to his -whereabouts, but, as she did not know your wishes, she was very guarded in her replies"—with a- glance at the abstracted face.

■ Tresiddor did nob appear to hear him.' "I have been ask eel to visit an old Anglo-Indian friend of mine for a. day or Wo. I did not care to go while he was so ill, but I might go now, and perhaps when I return he will be strong enough to talk-." "That is very likely," tho doctor responded. ''Wo could let you know at once if you were required in any emergency." But no such emergency occurred.