CHAPTER LXVI.

Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2099, 19 December 1885, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER LXVI.

Tnfn WHITE-lACJ'D lABY. " Tirov j«ra have not seen Ailie for some time ?" asked Lord Corsciale of Rose Derwent. And the answer " No." He had made nil the searoh po33ibto in London for hia y»ung wife, but eonld get no tidings of her. They remembered her at the London Bridge Hotol ; and Tatty, the kindly chamber-maid, when she heard of lnquiiiea being made about a yonng lady, told at onco a'U that she had thought and suspected. Lord Carsdale tulked to her himself and described Ailie exactly to her. " That is the lady I" cried the girl. 11 And you have no idea where she went?" asked Lord Cftrfdale. " She mentioned no town, no place?" " Ni," replied the chamber-maid, " none." So there his clew ended. Naturally enough bis next vhit waa to liudeswell, to see if Ailie bad reached homo. This time ho waa so engiwed w ith anxiafcy that he qnita forgot to note that which bdforjahand had so disgusted him — the dull street, thg gloomy house, the evi'den.co of poverty. He though only of finding Afhe, an'd atoniug to her for what eho ■mfl'prod ; her heroism h»d been bo great th»t, in tua eyes, it ennobled even the moat com-mon-place surroundraga. Aa a matter of course, the whole family cera astonished to ee'J him, and still more astounded at what he had to tell them; for no would have no more concealment, and, sanding for the dancing-master and his astonished wife, he told tho truth about his name, hia title, and position. "At tho same time," be said,~ " I must tell you quite fßirly that my/rnnrriage outs me off entirely from my family forever. It has been kept a secret from them all thpne yeara ; now they know it, and I have bl'dtkn thorn farewell forever." John Derwent and hi 3 wife were both overcome. "To think," said John, " thai; euoha thi-ng aheiilxl happtjo." "To think," cried Mra. Da? went, "that my daughter BhouW be a lady of title." They were both speechless aftor that one remark. " Of coursi," continued Lord Carada'p, " now that my marriaao is known, 1 shoutd like to see yon in a different position. I have influential fr/ends, and I do not doubt in the least but that I ca'i procure for you seme little office under government, beaideo which I will settle a yearly income on you more than equivalent to that which you now earn. I shall have to trust to your good sense entirely never to mention my family or speak of them in any vray, as it would lead to more harm than goad." John Denvenfc and his wife were bath overwhelmed—they oould nay nothing. Then he mada inquiries about Frank, and learned that he gave promise, someday or other, of being a superb engineer. " I consider Frank's fortune made, air," ssid John Derwent, gratefully; " and I have yon to thank for it. my lord — no one else." Then Lord CursdalG had to listen to the story of Hose's engagement to the young curate; and, looking at the girl's sweet facje, be did not wonder at her marrying well. Then Hettie looked up at hint with one of her frank, strange smiles. " I am not one of the genteel members of the family," she said, " and I am not provided for, bat I tell you one thing, LordOarßilale, I would not mawy a lord, as poor Ailie has done, without he loved me better than you loved her " " You are right, Hettie. Ido not ezouse myself, but I Trill atone ia the future for the errors of the past." He would not alarm them by telling them that he bad bo completely lost all traoo of Ailie; he let them believe there had been some mistake about thoir traveling. He found from his inquiries that none of them had any idea ot Aihe's whereabouts. H« went awiy aa eo»n as he could, haying bnt the one idea of finding her. The surprise, tho wonder, the bewilderment that fell upon that little household I Ailie, their beautiful Ailio, had married a lord! Mrs. Derwent rooked herself pathetically to and fro, wiping the great tears from her eyes. " I always said that Ailie was no common kind of gal," she said, " but none woold believe me." The dancing-masterl ooked at his fiddle. " You and I part now," he said ; " bu| you have been a true friend to me." The secret was imparted, under all possible vows of secrecy, to the ourate, who mentally congratulated himself on having made a good match. Visions of a good living, presented to him by his brother-in-law, Lord Carsdale, Moated across his mind. In the meantime, Lord Carsdale himself was quite at ft loss where to look. It we& wonderful how one illnilon after another drew him from place to place. Sometimes it was the atory of a lady found drowned in the depths of some swift, deep river ; again it was tho body of a lady washed ashore ; it was an unknown lady killed in a railway accident ; or it waa frho hwtory of a myaterloua death. Wherever In heard or read anything of the kind, he went at once; but, neither living nor dead, could he find any trace of Ailie, It was a railway accident that drew his attention to Fernbay — an exeuroion train had come in collision with a heavy goods train, the result of which was tho death of some twenty passengers and the injury of come twenty others. It was nobody's faultquite an accident, the porvanta of the oorapany declared— one that no human intelligence could hate forseen. Among the liat of of the dead came a description of a lady unknown. She was described aa very beautiful, with long golden hair ; and when Lord Carsdalc read it, his heart grew faint. He forget how many beautiful women with golden hair there are in the world, and he went direct to Fcinbay. Itwa'snot Ailie. Bsfon he readied there tho golden-hiired lady had been recognized by a husfcaud, who waa driven mad by her untimely death. Still, Lord Carsdalo resolved upon staying there ; it was a pretty place, and he had a pleawant memory of tho one happy day that he had Hjfent with Ailie there. lie went to the same hotel where Fhe had beeta so full of protty, innocent wondur and surprise. They did not recouni/.e him there. Later on that evening he walked down to the bi ach; k was a curious place — quaint, old-fashioned, and, at times, wry solitary. Fie walked pafit the pier, where tho band waa 11 dieconrfing eloquent musio," down by ths cliii), and stood thore looking at un old, ruined jolty that ran out into the sea. It waa a quiot, desolate place; theio waa no sound of nrnaie, no fjay proaionadera, no children at play. There lay the bluo bgr ; the white cliffd eloped down to it, and from the shingle the black, ruined jetty ran out far and wide into tho sea. Such a quaint, solitary rc c no had not inert las eyes for years. He etood watching it, wondering how that old jetty would look under a dailuviing sky, with great, dark uiavca leaping over it ; and us he so stood, thare came to him an old coast-guard, who touched hia cap an'd bcg-sin to tulk. That jetty, he said, had been for years and years out ef repair; it waa never u-cd now. In times loag past, queens and kiuqa had landed on H ; but now it was given up to a ghost.

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