The Romance of a Business Girl.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 10713, 12 November 1912, Page 2

The Romance of a Business Girl.

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CHAITER XV. (Continued.) Mrs Maxwell Hope considered and wavered. "For the iir.st time ii: my life I hive permitted a man to browbeat inc. All the same, I am of opinion that what you suggest is best. 1 will call upon my daughter to-morrow afternoon at Dulwich, and take her back home with mo. You explain that to her, will you?" she added menacingly. "She. shall be told of your wishes," be politely answered. "i don't quite tumble to your game George Fleming, but if there's any trickery in it, you look out!" Without a word more Mr.-: Maxwell Hope rustled ponderously from the office and downstairs. Mr Fleming followed her. He was not risking any chances. The woman's word was worthless. .She. entered the car, and was driven in the direction of Ludgate Hill. He signalled to a taxicab, sprang in. and ordered the driver to foli-.i.v the landaulette. The chase continued to the bottom of Ludgate Hill, the landaulette going straight ahead into Fleet Street, while the taxied) turned to the left, and made for Blackfriars. "Marvellous!" murmured the lawyer. "She is actually keeping her promise." He leaned back, in the cab —thoughtful, preoccupied. This new development was by no means unexpected by him, though he had been uncertain of Mrs M.ixwell Hope's attitude toward her daughter. That there would be mischief, lie never doubted. She was a fatal woman for any one to have dealings with. The nearer ho approached Serena's lodgings, the greater became his sense oi 1 discomfort. He examined the matter in all its aspects, and coidd reassure himself on no single point. Mother and daughter would mix like oil and water. The mother was coarse, depraved, malicious, and essentially vulgir; the daughter was her very antithesis. "The interview will be interesting, and probobly tragic," he thought, with « sigh. Arrived at Captain Vance's house, he dismissed the taxicab, and the door was opened to him "by Sere herself. He pressed her fingers, and kissed her cheek —an unusu.d show of affection for him. His manner impressed her with a sense of nervous dread. His ambiguous letter to Jim had recurred to her over and over again; i\u:| now she Was weighted with the feeling of some impending I calamity. j "I hear that you hive been having I a good time. 'Serena," her uncle sa,id, | when they were seated opposite to each other in her room. It was a .somewhat clumsy way of opening conversation. "But you are .rather pale after it. Been overdoing tilings?" "jVlv nerves ;:ire like bundles of live wires to-d,ay. I have been waiting and watching for you since two o'- ' clock, uncle." "(Jarling told you of my letter to him?" "J read the letter, ancl as Jim insisted that I pleaso myself—well, L hardly know what to do." She glanced at him helplessly. "You have been good to.me, uncle, -and I won't be an object to charity. You are not a wealthy man, and you have 41 big family of girls to provide for. I cannot consent to rob them of even a sixpence. Yu -have known, my attitude ever since I came from America." Ha nodded. "But, Sereiv.i, my dear child, your tnan-iagc is not an everyday I felt hurt that y.ou should pass me over entirely. Carling's people would he sure to notice it, and talk among themselves, and I shewM. feel that I had done on injury to the memory of your father—my brother Charlie." "I've been thinking about it," she hopefully .said, "and we may be able to make some alteration without disturbing the arrangements at Birmingham. Jim's folk might foel ag» 1 grieved if we did that. Would you and my cousins object to going to Birmingham ? You could give me awav"—she flushed—"and Amnio and Ellen would, perhaps, liko to act <is bridesmaids.'' "Excellent! My dear girl, I am more than satisfied. I was going to suggest something very much like it." He examined some memoranda 511 his pocketbook, pretended to make mental calculations, then snapped the book fast, and thrust it back into Ink pocket. fhis to bo the final decision, no doin't let tho grass grow under your feet before you tell GVrling. It nocnecessary a lot of little alterations and additions."

BY F. L. DACRE Aiai./r of "A Fleet of Dreams, ' "Silar Demnnsior- s Mi/uoy," " Ihe Shado wof Shame." "A PJjan--,f t&B i J ast," H eld in Bondage etc.

CHAPTER XVI

SERENA'S ORDEAL

"Yes; .Jim .said he would wiu.t best man. You we having sueii a ceremony. was all my f::u : :. i haven't in;-, money, and I-H „ waht to b,v.. penny from •):•■: ! ,:t'oro marriag.-. It doesn't seem 1 i;.-h v' "There—lin . t : i >e been .. .linn, for that. You are such a proud, touchy little sort that even I a;: timorous of approaching -you." prduced the pocket-book again, and took from it a handful of banknote:.-. "Here .'are a hundred pounds, Serena, my wedding gift. 1 assure you thai I can afford it." She looked at him long and pleadingly ; then her hand closed over thmoney, and she spoke with stroi:;. emotion: "It is so good f you, uncle. I'm afraid that I am oversensitive." "Not another word. That's done with. Now for another piece of r.e.wi. It miy be pleasing to you; it isn't for me to say." Her eyes were widening with -suddenly aroused interest. He leaned forward, and took one of her hands. "Serena, what do you know aboiit your mother?" i The question was {startling, and she looked at him with intense sxirprise. "My mother died soon after m birth, uncle. I thought you knew—'' "It was all :x mistake, girlie," he gently said. "Your mother is alive! Now steel your nerves, and hear mo out. I will tell you the exact truth; hiding nothing, coloring nothing." And then he plunged into the storv Serena cold. At first it was almcst and the picture he painted turnr: unbelievable. Arthur Hope's mother her mother! Arthur Hope her brother! She shuddered. I "Knowing the woman as 1 do. Ser|.ena, it would be bad policy to go to [war with her now. She would make ! trouble for you and Jim. She is utterly unscrupulous; she swears, she drinks, she smokes! She is coinparitively "young still, handsome, rich. You must pretend " "I never pretended in my life, uncle,; J cannot pretend. I shall hat? [-this woman—l hate her already!" She clasped and unclasped her hands lin an agony of doubt and fear. "T have been expecting something dreadful for days and days, and now it has come!"

j "Uncle," Serena said, ifter a .dread silence, "do you think that j there is the remotest chance jjf a mistake?" | "No," he answered impressively, after a long and steady glance. /-'Your father sent me most of las 'important pipers years before he died your birth certi/icate among them, together with a personal statement, sworn under seal, and wincssod. Alter pretending that you were- dead, /he took care to leave proof of vour tine identity. Besides, one has onlv to look at your living self." "Ah, 1 underst.ind," she breathed. her pallor deepening- "I am |{k e her." (To be Continued.)