Lady Marjorie's Love

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 13 March 1913, Page 2

Lady Marjorie's Love

(OUR SLRIAL

By Carl Swerdaa Author of "To the Uttanubflt Farming," "A Mere Ceremony," "A Fight for Honour," Etc.

CHAPTER XV. (Continued.)

1 "No, I'm afraid, since you ask me— I that fortune scarcely awaits you in either of those fields, Lady Maryorie." "Fortune?" She _ shrugged her slender .shoulders with. a half l:i ufili and a pathetic grimace. "Oh, I've j given up thinking of that! It, has ' come to a struggle for bread and Invtter —bread and butter for tlie last of the Wynnes! How I should have laiughed at such an idea as that a few months ago! I shall be wise Ik fore long, I suppose, and not mind it.'' ■She gave him a glance that was half proud and ba.lf pathetic, and which had a whimsical touch in it, too. "It's very fortunate, isn't it," she said quietly, "that nobody is too stupid to be a .governess?" "A governess?" "Yes, that is what I have been thinking of, you know. I think I could teach children, if they were young ones. It can't be so veiy difficult." She smiled ruefully. _ "Besides. it is quite the rigrht thing to do: it makes me feel like the distressed heroine lin a novel or a play. They nearlv always go out is governesses. don't they? So, though T'm not a heroine, and this is real life, unluckily it is the best thing T can do. Now don't von think it is?" "Possiblv. But—since >ou ask me —l'm afraid I see one or two very grave objections." "Do you?" She eyed him anxiously. "Oh, you mean the countess and the dowager may object? I cannot helo ''that." "That is not what I mean, although I should think n't exceedingly probable that they would. Isn't it just the least in the world incongruous that Ladv Marjorie Wynne should fill that romantic post that is just the thing? I ask for information." "Oh, I never thought of that!" she answered quietly, "It would he quite absurd, of couree. 1 ■sball diop my title ; perhaps the people I go to npc<d riot know who I really am. I have lost every thing else. "Why should I care to keen that? Tt would only make me look ridiieulous. 'Miss Wynne!" That sounds better, does it not? More governessy." "It sounds the pink ofpropiety. But, with all possible deff?re:ice to your judgement, I'm seriously afraid that that is the .smaller object-ion of the two. May I suggest ' hat in' these Girton days .governesses are generally ■supposed to be ladies of rather overpowering erudition ?" "Girton?" Marjorie gave her head an impatient toss. "I don't know anything about Girton," she said. ".And I only spoke of teaching little children, Mr Bs.rnington. Eight or ten —something like that." I "Exactly. But even with that nroviso I am somewhat dubious. The fact is I chanced' on a.n advertisement in yesterday's paper that struck me a« vn.fbev humorous, loked at in the right light."

"Of course it is! Who else is it likely to be " "1 thought .as much!" Ho frowned for it happened that Lady Marlingford's appreciation of him was a sentiment but indifferently reciprocated. He hesitated and then fiat down in tlio opposite comer of the window seat while Jack sat between and sleepily blinked at each in tu:in. "You won't care to go out now? he said. "Tell me all about it, won't you?" Marjorie hesitated, because she did not know quite how to begin. On mom than one occasion, when Fenella had been disagreeable and he had detected the fact, she had told him all about it and had found 1 tlie confidence consoling. For he had'never failed to look at affairs from precisely, her point of view, than which there can be nothing more sensible and comforting. That she should follow these examples again was therefore onlv natural, and sho did it. Ho listened, with one or two unflattening compliments for the countess, and smiling now and then in a manner which might .have lowered her opinion of his .sympathy had she seen it, for *he was so sure that her eyes were frightfully rod that sho looked out of tho window. "You don't think you would like Ireland, then?" he asked, when she had finished. .shooting people, or boycotting th?m, or bansheeing them, or something! or bansheeing them, or comething! And if they were'.nt I should' hate it!" ■ "And I* may take the liberty of supposing that you ar? not overfond of the dowager countess?" Sheer' amazement at the utter, ■absurdity of the notion made Marjorie turn to him with wide-open eyes. "Why, sh?'s awful! Just wait till you see lier!" She nodded wiith infinite expression ; plainly when he did see the dowager he might expect to see a good deal. "And yiou don't" wish, then, to make vour home with her?" "I won't make it with her!" She

clenched her .hands and set Ik'V resolute littli? mouth. and chin. ''Wliatpvpv I do I won't do that!" A pans?'. Defiance was- all vein- wp.ll, wrath wall all very well, and she felt l)oth. hut the horrible sense ~f doubt nnd desolation lia-A seized'. foer again,

and .she lint I mil oh. ado to keep the tears out of iher If it was a minute or two before he snoke it was possibly because he und?rstood her so completely. When lie did it was very- gently. ".Since you have honored me hv your confidence so far, Lady Marione, Perhaps I may ask you a question. If you will not go to Ireland, and are ■sure that you cannot remain with

Lady Mavlingford " "With Lady Marlinsford!" Marjonio exclaimed. "I would not remain with her even, did she wish it! "What can von hj? thinking of to suppose it, Mr fearrington?"

"I beg your pardon—l 'rid not suppose it. T was merely goino; to ask if failing that —of course failing that —you had formed any plans for the future."

The wordw made her tliink of Loftuis Bligh—Loftus, who should have rendered all such anxiety imorj her part unnecessaiT, who should have been at her side to direct, protect, and comfort lier. She had never spoken to Barrinjrton one word of Loftus, and she couldl not do «o now. But a thought came to her as she .sat there sobbing, and she spoke it out. She had quite forgotten, poor child, how desperately derogatory to her dignity it was that she, Lady Marjorie Wynne, should confide in Mr Chadburn's agent. She was so lonely, so miserable, and wiio else was, there who would seem to care so much or sp?ak so kindly? So far ehe had not iu the least tried to understand why lie should care so much 1 or should care at all. She acepted the result without searhing for the reason. It was plain, to lier that lie did care, and it was equally certain, in her present state mind that silie must talk to somebody.

"Yes," she said quietly, and pulling at Jack's velvet ear as she looked out of the window again, "I have been thinking, Mr Barrington. I must -earn my living somehow, if I won't go to grandmamma.. That's of course, but I don't know how. If I were a man I could enlist and emigrate, I suppose, or some one would get me something to do. But it is difficult for a girl. I can't go into a convent, can 1?" Barrington half smiled. Perhaps, looking at the slender black figure and fancying the effect of a coif and hood over the big brown eyes and curly brown hair, lie thought she would make a sweet little nun. But, if so, it was not a sentiment to sommunicate. "Well, hardly, I suppose," he said. "Or on the stage—even if I would, and I wouldn't. And then I'm not clever, you know; I can't write or paint or anything like that. I never read a novel without wondering how they managed to think of it all and to tell it without getting in a muddle. And as for my drawing, my last governess —she was a German, poor dear! —aisc-d just to give one look at them and turn away."

(To be Continued.)