A Wasted Love

Waihi Daily Telegraph, Volume IV, Issue 1162, 5 December 1904, Page 4

A Wasted Love

Author of "Lcslio'a Loyalty," 11

CHAPTER 11,

up like a linnet-"

And now 1 should like to be ablo to say that hcnmdo them a pice spocoli about temperance and plain living. This what the ordinary heroes of romanco invariably do. But the young man. though Btrong aa a lion and lighthearted as a lark, was not prudont or wiso. Bo allowed himself to be led to tho nearest booth, whore he stood treat many times and oft; and drank as well bb paid for drink. An hour later, flushed and hot ho romembored ttie girl whoso bountiful face bad boen upturned to his with such anxiety: and with a half-defined idea of findingher and assuring her that ho was not hurt he got away from the crowd and went out to look for her. He wandored about looking everywhere as he went, but though ho saw several red-shawled faces ho could not find tho ono he sought. Presontly a clock—it wai tho ono in the iurret of Monk Towers—struck eight. Ho pulled up short and put his hand to his head as if trying to remember something; then he whistled and strodo out of the fair and on to the common his face sot in the direction of Monk Towers. A lane led from the common, and stepping briskly along it he came to a bridge over a brook. Here he took off his coat and collar and bathed his head in the clear cold water, Springing :o his feet with renowed freshness. " That's better," he said with a long breath. He put on hie things quickly and went on his way, The lane led to a hill, beneath wh'oh in a slight hollow were the great iron gates of the avenue to Monk Towers, He passed through tho gates and up tho avenue, seeing no one; the lodge-keeper had stolen off to the fair. Tho elm-lined road wound round and round hkoa yellow serpent; but presently tho long front of the great mansion loomed before him. His handsome face grow rather grave as he looked up at the house, but tho seriousness did not last long, and he was humming again presontly as cheerful as before. A moat, dry now, surrounded tho house; he crossed the time-worn bridge, and ran np tho broad stone steps.to tbo hall door. But there ho paused. Perhaps tho viow of the interior, the spotless floor of black and whito marble, awoke in him a sense of hisduslyand disordered condition. He, looked down at his clothes, at his boots,* and shook his head; and as ho heard tho sound of a sonant's footsteps coming from the back of tho hall ho turned quickly and wont down the sups again " I'll get in>at the back and fcet a wash," he said to himself. "Madam hates'this kind of thing," and he looked down at himself ruefully. Ho passed along tho sido of tho house and had nearly turned tho comer when ho heard a voice singing. It was a girl's voico, fresh and sweet. She was evidently singing to herself, for the voico was low, and broko off now and then, and then went on iigain as if tho ainger were singing unconsciously, Ho stepped up to tho window cautiously and looked in.

She smiled,

The room was a small one, panolled in dark, shining oak, Tho floor was of walnut, the pictures were old, in tarnished frames, the hangings of silk damask were of a dull, faded gray; the only spot of light in tho dusky room was the white dross of a young girl, who stood on an antiquo ohair reaching dowo some books from an ebony cabinet, II this youig man had been an artist lie would have felt his soul swell and thrcb with dejight at the picture his eyes res'od on; as it was, the dusky room, the air of quiet and repose, the slight figaro of tho girl—all in white—touched him with a vague pleasure. The dross was mado in tho old-it is now, however, tho now—fashion; tho skirt in plain folds, the sleeves full Hor back was turned to him; a mass of yollow, wing hair, caught by a ribbon, foil on the white, soft cashmere, AH unconscious of a spectator, sho blow tho dust from a book, opened it, and resting the edge againnt the bookshelf, turned the pages, singing to hcrsolf all the while.

lhe young man watched her with n smile on his lips, and suddenly, as if she had become conscious of tho burden of his eyes, she turned her head. She did not cry out, but she dropped the book and stood still for a moment, tho colour coming and going on ber face. It was a puro oval, very fair; tho eyes, wido open with surprise, gradually growing into pleasure, wore of a violet blue—a lovely girlish face that matched the golden hair, and the slight, almost frail, figure. The young man seemed startled in some way, but as he stepped in he recovered his presence of mind sufficiently to take off his oap. "Roycol" cried Iho girl in a voice as low as soft as the ono in which she had sung, 11 Royce, is it you ?" "Yes. It's me, Irene I" he said with the beautiful disregard for grammar which distinguishes the public-school boy, . She dropped lightly as a feather from the chair, and ho made as if to take her in bis arms; then stopped and K row red and awkward, But thero was no awkwardness on her part, now that the first momoiits of surprise had passed, "Oh, Royce, lam so glad I When did you come—how ?" and she took him by the hand and swung it up and down, almost drawing him into the room, "Justnow," ho said, "Walked most of tho way. But I say, Irene—" "Weill" she cried, looking np at him with welcoming eyes. "What is tho matter, Why do ;'ou staro at mo so? Oomo and sis down, or shall I go and fetch thocountoss?"

lightly. " (Vait a minnto. I'm ataring ' because—l say, how you've grownaltered 1" Sho blushod and laughed, and her eyes foil—but only for a moment—before 'his fixed and wondering reguvd, "Havo I? I HUfposo I have! Yon didn't expoot to find mo just tl;o 6MIIO after all this time, Koyce ?" •' Yob, I did,' lie said, " I wag looking forward to seeing a littlo girl in short frocks and a pigtail. I meant to pick you np and give you a jnmp." Sho drew from him an inch or two, laughing still, but a little shyly. " Why shouldn't I grow like the rest of the world'? Why, you'vo grown yourself." She pocmed to reoognizo tlio fact for the iirst time, and her look became still more shy. But it was only momentarily, "Why, lloyco, you are quito—a man."

Ho laughed and go' hold of her other hand and swung thom together in boyish, light-hearted fashion, "Havel? Well, then I'll forgivoyou, But youve grown in other ways, Irene By Geroge, I con scarcely boliove thai this lively young My is tho littlo kid who used to climb the old apple treo—" The blood stainfd lior face again and she broke out quickly, as if to stop him. "But how tired you must bol How far have you walked ? Lot mo go and toll the countess, Royco." "Notyet,"he said, "How far? Oh nearly twenty milos, moro or less," " Oh, how tired you must bp," sho exclaimed. " Not a bit, but I'm as hunery as a wolf. And I think I'd better putmysolfto rights beforo I seo the mater; you know how particular she is-eh Borne ? I was stealing round to the t baek entrance, meaning 0 get a wash, when I hoard you pipin

. . BY CHARLES GARVICE

llaino,"" A Woman's Soul," Ac,

" And so came into the oago," alio said, " But yon are so hungry I Sit down nnd 1 will «et yon something to oat—"

"And drink, pleaeo, I am thirsty, too,'

11 1 shan't bo gono long; you shall to how quick Ic m be, Andthon, when you have had your supper, I will toll the Countess,"

He uoddod ralhor grimly. "Yos, 1 shall want strengthening for that ordeal—ah, Renio ?" ' She rose seeming scarcely to touch tho floor, so light and airy was the movement; and Royce Landou loaned back and looked round tho loom.

His oyes rosted on two portraits hanging side by sido over tho ancient fireplace, One was that of his father, tho late oarl of Landon, in a genoral's uniform, tho other i hat of his mother, the countess, in a dress of blaok satin and broad Honiton. .His face grow gravo as it lingoredon tho latter, [rone camo in a'ter a fow minutes interval, carrying a small tray with a pie, some bread, a dish of strawborrios, and olaret,

" Tlioro I' 1 she said triumphantly. " Now come and bo I'od," "Bravo," he said as ho sat down, "Help mo yourself, Renio. A good big piece to begin with. I will show you the pattern nt the bottom of that pie dish di< reotly; and then then I shall eat the dish itself.

Laughing she helped him and sat by, leaning her olbows on the table, and her ohin on her hands, regarding him smilingly while ho ate, Having satisfied his appetite, ho leaned back in his chair and asked:

"Now, what's thonowsP" "News? there is no nows. Everything at tho Towers goss on the same year after year; just the same. I've got a new pony—you must see him, Royco I "And—my brother, Seymour?'' Tho girl's brows contracted slightly, and she looked down.

" Tho earl is vory well," sho said quiot-

"And what's his last fad?" asked Royce.

'■ I don't know quite; we do not see very much of him: but I think it is in some way connectoa with Timbuctoo, But tell mo all about yourself, Royco," she went on quickly. " Fow did you get leave to go so soon again ? I thought you had only just gono back to tho regiment." His fuco clouded and grow gravo and embarrassed, and he kept bis eyes fixed on tho clarol jug as ho replied:

" lea— so 1 had, hut— Oil, I'll tell you all about it presently." Sho looked at him with quick apprehension.

"Oh, Royce," sho faltered, "You—you haven't been getting into another scrape, havo you ?"

"He laughed uneasily, his brows knit togothor, and his face grew hot and fierce, "Let's talk of somothing else," ho said. "We shall have plenty of time, for I'm going to stay homo a bit. But look hero —I must go and put myself tidy, " Yes," sho said. " Whoro is your luggage ? Havo vou had it sent on ? Per* haps it is in your room" He bit bis lip.

'■ I haven't any luggage—that is—there, I'd hotter tell you right out, I suppose. The —tho fact is, Renio, I havo boen getting into another scropo, as you c.ill it. And this time it's tho worst scrape of all What's that?" ho brol;o off, looking toward tho door. Sho listened for a moraont, then sprang up, her face paling * little, "It is the countess; I know hor stop. Go, Royco I Let me break it to her that you are lioro, 00, quick I" And sho pointed to tho window, Ho rose and weut a paco or two, then slopped and, facing round, throw back his head,

" No I" ho said, " No uso running away, after all. I'll faco it 1"

(To lie continued,)