AFTER RELEASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10594, 28 March 1912, Page 2

AFTER RELEASE.

OUR SERIAL,

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

CHAPTER X—Continued

Mrs Rawnrde paused, then went on . "Gwenda is teaching her to play, the must- liave liccn such a sweet baby, too.' She looked at him through sudden tears. "I can' bear to think of a lonely child. It fills mo with indignation. It was the system on wliioh I was brought up, but I had brothers and sisters, and Hcrmione apparent I v ha.-: none. Xfc is sad to bo an only child under such circumstances. You were not un'happy, wlhen you were a little child, were you, dearest?" He put out his Rantl and took his mother's fragile, beautiful hand into it. "I was a very happy child. "What boy would not bo when 'lie had such a mother? Do you think I will ever forget how 'bright and happy you made my lifo even when your own heart was breaking? Whatever your troubles, they never touched me. Never was there such a mother!" WitJi a sudden imipulse he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. She threw her arm round his neck and held him close. His firm cheek was pressed against her own. /

"Never was tihere such a son!" shy murmured. "Oh, my dear, I'd ■go through it all. again rather than escape it without you, hut sometimes I fear 1 robbed you of your childhood too soon.' His grasp of her tightened. "My dear, you know- you did not.' She smiled again through her tears. "You always comfort me like 'that, and you always did comfort me, child as you were." 'lThere was a, litle pause. Rawai'dc spoke; his face 'had grown stern and a little hard. 'What makes you remember that buried past now, dear ? We are —hero —you are happy.'' She 'leaned 'back on her pillows, her face a 'litle pale, flier lips quivering, but her smile sunny. "Happy ? I have hardly a wish un gratified. Yes; oh yes, there is : something you can give me, dearest, but will you ?" Ho flushed a' little, with a prescience or her meaning, 'ls it anything I can give you?" "Only you can. I want to see your \Mife, Basil. Oh, don't bo vexed with me, dear, for if is my dearest wish. I do so want to see you married to someone really worthy of you, capable of appreciating you in every fold of your very complex nature. lam not saying a word against Gertrude,though sho was never the wife for you, but in , ~~ " —■— - _ „ _ -y 'I wanted money, mid she gave it to me,' 'lie said 'harshly. "No, you're quite right, mater. Gertie and 1 l.ever had a tilling in common, and every month made ine see more clearly the [ harm I had done her. I could never give licr ~\vihtat she wanted, but —she | gave ime all she had. I wish I had been ! more tolerant, moro patient." He rose from his seat on the odge of the bed, and began to pace up and down the room, his hands in his pockets, his head bowed, his eyes.regarding j'the carpet.gloomily, i "I am very ambitious," he said. [•■"" When I was a litle chap. and learned I the trutTi about myself,' 1. set a gcal before my eyes, and I havo j-ever .-erapled to take any advantage, however mean, that would take men step x carer it. I wis handicapped by lack of money, and I married Gertie occnuse j she was wealthy, and I have gone on iand on till-—I am here —almost the top of the tree, but not quite. If I marry again mater, and it is most likely I shall" —his wonderfuilv attractive smile flashed over his face, discounting the cold calculation of his words—"it must 'be to a lady. I'coukl never stand the companionship of an inferior again. But there is this to bo said' lie paused again for a moment—"'The lady would have to be told."

Mrs Haivardo grew a little pale. "I, too, have realised that, Basil, it was that thought that kept mo awake last night. Oh, my boy, it is very hard on .you." Tears ran slowly down her face. It was not often that her bravo spirit blenched, but one'thought could always, fill her heart with dread. a) "Basil, have yon thought—it was nearly a year ago." "I know." His face had-grown very hard. "If he had, died —there —I might almost have forgiyen .him ! However, litle mother,' he interrupted himself with a caressing hand, "don't cry. Nothing has happened; nothing wdl happen ;he has no power now; he irt quite helpless." "But —■ the disgrace, just when you j have done so well. I have been so proud of you, dear, and now " "And now you will still be proud. There is no disgrace attaching to either of us.' Ho took her handkerchief and dried her soft cheeks tenderly. "Gome deai - , lie your brave self. You, nnd T, and Gwenda—why, wt>'eouitLdflfr' wlio'o world, let nio such a man!" She sighed, yet she allowed herself to be comforted once more by the love and strength oi purpose that few but herself knew. He would not leave her till she was quite herself again. He sauntered arouiid the room, opening her scent bottles and teasing gently about her jlove for pretty things, taking out a fading orchiH from one bowl, arranging another to show to greater advantage, "promising her a genuine Louis Seize fan that he had seen in one of the curio .shops, and dhatting about Gwenda's last "saying" and her progress in health. "And so von call Miss March by her christian name?" ho said presently, as he straightened ,a picture.

| "Gwenda started it, and Henny | seemed so pleased when I took it up. I She says she never had a pot name, pooi- child. How it all reminds mo of my own childhood!' Her eyes were bright again, and her lips were smiling. "I am so glad you have recognised her charm, dear." "Oh, ono must do that from first sight !"Jio answered with assumed .carelessness. "But she certainly seemed moro 'human, more alive last night—- " 'Not too bright and good For human nature's daily food!' Is that correctly quoted ? Isn't it curious that while I am so fond of music, I have 110 sense of rhythm? Is that clock right? I must fly!" He bent and kissed her. "An revoir. Shall be "ii for lunxsh^Qn." "Yes, Hermy is coming for a drive with Gwenda and me, and to luncheon, if sllie can. •Shall you he in?" "Perhaps; don't wait for me. Oh, by tlio bye," he dallied with the door haudle —"do you remember Morreys, that curly-headed boy wllio was at Guy's last year. Ho has written to ask for a sub, and to invite me to attend a dinner and presentation to old TayLem. who is retiring. I think I shall go. I would only 'he away i% night." "Yes, do go; you would enjoy it! What night is it? The twelfth! Oh, t'ho eleventh is the night of the Sauerback recital! You ought to stay for that. We have had so little good music this year."

CHAPTER XI. Rawarde went downstairs much more gravely tlhan ho had gone up, but it was characteristic of him that when ho entered the eon,suiting room lie deliberately put on one side every memory of his conversation with his mother. It was not to ibe forgotten, but it was not to ibe allowed to obtrude out of its place upon the business of the hour. It was perhaps in that power, of concentration that some of the secrets r>f Tiis rapid success Jay. For the time being his work demanded and got all his energy of soul and body. He was lecturing that morning to a class of medical student sof the university. When he left the theatre the great clock in the tower was striking one. The principal, emerging from ltis room for lunch, invited liiiii to join him, but Rawardo shook his head. [ want to look at a case in the hospital," ho said. "Yes, an entirely successful operation, but I was telephoned this friomijig that the patient was not maintaining his strong," "Oh, I liear about i Murray was telling Bielast night." The elder man Icoke d at the younger, almost envying him 3iis courage,' his coolness, his skill. "He said only you would have attempt ted the operation at such a stage." "Oh, Idont' know. A man in Vienna operated u'ntfer far more critical conditions in. a similar case, and the patient is likely to live to an old age. I shall feel 1 have failed if I can't say the same of my patient." He was detained longer tha.n he had anticipated at the hospital, but lie left .'the case easier and more favourably inclined. A 'little gratified smile was playmg on 'his lips as lie drove, quicker itlian was his wont, homeward. He turned into the square at tho side opposite to his house. As he turned tiho corner ho noticed Miss March hurrying along the street and up the steps to his 'house. She, too, had evidently been detained. Involuntarily his hand increased the speed., Tho motor sprang forward and at that moment another motor whirled round the opposite corner toward him. He swerved a little, grumbling ,at the other driver's recklessness but his own speed was greater than usual, and before ho could check it he heard a childish voice call out "Miss Hermy, Miss !" and Gwenda dashed out of the garden and scampered headlong across the road to meet Hermione, without a glance or any knowledge of tihe approaching motors. . "Good heavens!" Rawardo cried, jvs face paling, and the chaffcur losing ?iis presence of mind, Called out loudly. The child stopped short, and stood paralysed with fear as the great car; swept forward 011 either side. White to the lips, her father swung his car tofrard the opposite pavement, but the other car pursued its career. It was a ghastly, horrible moment, when every limb seemed at fault. 'She will be killed!' the chaffcur groaned. "Oh, Miss Gwenda." There was a sudden stir. The tall, slender figure in the nurse's uniform seemed to fly down tho steps and into the centre of the road. The little whiti! figure clisapearod under the long cloak. There was a scream from someone, and then the car swept on headlong. Rawarde's dazed eyes cleared, and ho saw it bUelvcliul ligurc- iywig I'roi.e in. tho roadway, Ho nev»» hmv ho loft i,; s own car, how ho got to the two figures ly,ing in tlhe road, but the reaction of rebel' was almost terrifying wnen J.eimione moved and attempted to rise to her feet, her frantic grasp still encircling Gwenda. She smiled faintly as she encountered Raw.arde's gaze. (To be continued.)