Novelist. [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] TWICE TRIED,

Waikato Times, Volume XXXI, Issue 2567, 22 December 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Novelist. [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] TWICE TRIED,

BY ANNIE S. SWAN, Author of " Aldersyde," "Carlowrie," " Across Her Path," " Sundered Hearts," &c,, &c.

CHAPTER V—Continued. " Well, what is it 1" she asked, kindly, and was a little alarmed when the man, without speaking stepped across the threshold. " Who is it V she asked more sharply. '„' " It's only me, Joan," said Robert Angus, in a stifled voice. " I can come in, I suppose ?" " O£ course," she said, quickly ; " step into the sitting-room, please, and I'll be with you presently." So saying, she sped back to the kitchen, set down the kettle with a little laugh at herself, then took off bonnet, cloak, and over-shoes, and took down her dress which she had carefully fastened about her to save it from the wind—for in these changed clays Joan had to be very careful of her clothes, not knowing ■where the next suit was to come from, but sure that it could not bo procured until it had been liardly earned. When she was quito ready she went back to tho sitting room, to find her visitor leaning ba#k in

the comfortable easy chair with his eyes fixed moodily on the fire. He did not even look up at her entrance and, divining at once that there was something wrong, she never spoke a word, but sat down in her corner of the couch, and took up her knitting. She was one of those rare women who know nipn and how to hold their tongues. " What are you making, Joan 1" Robert Angus asked presently. " A woollen vest for that poor Willie Wilson. He has such a frightful cough ; and he is thinly enough clad. There are frightful draughts in that station-house, and when he goes out to collect the tickets the east winds get a beautiful clutch at him ; so I thought this would be the very thing for him." " How on earth do you find ways and niean3 to do so much for people, Joan ? It is a perfect miracle." Joan laughed slightly; but there was a little catch in her voice more suggestive of tears than laughter. " Oh, I like to do it, and the will finds the way, you know. It is good for me, and so I try to help them if I can." "It's a pity there are not more like you," was Robert Angus's sole comment; and another silence ensued. " It's a long time since I was here Joan," he said, presently. Joan nodded. " Notsince I told you not to come," she said, with a little odd smile. " You remember, when I became aware that it was not proper for me to allow you to spend an hour here. Yet they knew our relationship, and

how we had been like brother and sister all our days. Truly, the tender mercies of our friends are very cruel."

"But for you, Joan, I would disregard their silly and malicious gossip."

"So should I if I had not been dependent on them for my bread," said Joan. " Poor things, their hearts are wider than their purses, and that is narrow enough, as I have bitterly proved." " Why don't you ask me why I am here to-night?" asked Robert abruptly. " Because I am not of a prying nature."

" I wish you were a little more like your neighbours—no, I don't though. Well I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself and everybody else." " Charming frame of mind ! Go on! Confession is good for the soul." Robert Angus rose from his chair, and began to walk up and down the little narrow room. " Joan, my father is going to marry again," he said suddenly. Joan laid down her work, and turned her face round to him. "I am not surprised. I was afraid of it; but I am very sorry." " What do you think of it?" " Not very much, but Mr Angus is not an old man !"

" He is sixty-three." " Look nt my Uncle Joseph. He was eighty."

"But he married a suitable wife. Do you think Miss Rarsome a suitable wife for my father 1" " Not in age, certainly ; but you must not be too hard on her."

" How can I respect her 1 Would any young girl marry an old man for anything except to gain wealth !" " Now I do not quite agree with you. I grant that what you say is the rule, but there are exceptions. Your father is very handsome, and carries his years well. Then he is young in spirit, and very lovable." " Oh bosh ?"

" Thank you, Mr Angus." " Well, what's the use of going on like that 1 Are you trying to make me believe there is any love in the matter?"

" I cannot sny, but I think it not unlikely. You must make the best of this, Robert. As far as I can hear and judge, Miss Ransome is as good as she is beautiful."

" Then she must be different from her precious brother," said Robert, savagely. "She is very different. I am sure you will like her, and I believe she will make your father very happy. As you are a man, and have a home of your own in prospect, the change really cannot affect you very much. If you had been Mr Angus' daughter instead of his son, it would be different."

" You are right, it would. You are very positive that I have a home in. prospect, Joan." " Whether is it Amy or you who have changed, then V

Robert Angus made no answer, but Joan saw his face grow darker as if some unpleasant thoughts were in his mind.

" What are you wailing for ?" she asked, presently. " Fairgate is ready, isn't it 1 I think you should marry soon, Robert." " Why T

" I am not compelled to give my reasons. I think both Amy and you would be happier. Certainly she would be more settled ; and what is the use of waiting 1" " Not much, certainly. It will have to be off or on soon, any way," said Robert Angus, and then stop-

ped. He felt tempted to tell Joan Laurence what he had seen in the polices that night, but it would hurt his pride. He could uot confess that a being so contemptible in. his eyes as Rolfe Ransome should have caused Amy to swerve, even for a moment, in her allegiance to him. fTe need not have been so reticent, however, for Joan had her suspicions already ; and, what was

more, she was reading his thoughts that wry moment like fin open book.

" Is your father's marriage likely to take place soon V she asked, wisely changing the subject.

"I don't know. I was so disgusted when lie told me that I walked out of the house. I haven't much patience, Joan."

" You're a man, said Joan, philosophically ; "so nobody expects it of you. You will be more civil to him next time he speaks of it." " If I am, ho has you to thank." " Oh, no ; you would have come to reason sooner or later," said Joan serenely. " Will you take a cup of cocoa with me 1 If you won't you must go away and let me have miue. I am very hungry." " No, thanks, I could not eat or drink anything, so I'll go away. You are a good sort of a woman, Joan. I couldn't get on at all without you," said Robert, suddenly, as if the thought had but newly struck him. " I believe I'm a seltish, ungrateful wretch, but I do value your friendship, Joan Laurence; upon my soul I do." Joan's fine eyes filled with sudden tears, and she rose hastily, brushing them aside as she did so, as if ashamed of her emotion. "Of course I know you do, else I wouldn't have taken the trouble to talk so much to you. When you fall short of what I expect and think you should do and be, I just / comfort myself by thinking that as you are a man you must be excused." Robert laughed a little and looked contemplatively for a moment at the woman before him. She was not beautiful by any means, but there w;i:< a something

about her lie had never seen in any other women. The wide sympathies, the strong yet tender sou), the boundless kindliness of her heart shone in her eyes, and showed themselves in every play of her somewhat strongly-marked features. Herattire might beshabby andlowly enough, but she was a lady, and looked it every inch—nay, she was a woman whom any might be proud and glad to call a friend.

" You always do me good, Joan, what a brick you ars ! Do you know I sometimes wish those jolly old clays, when we used to throw stones at and otherwise abuse each other, were back again ? We were very happy then."

" Very ; but there's no use grow

ing sentimental," said Joan with a queer twitch about her grave, sweet lips. " Good-night, and do you take my advice and be kind to your father, and to the young wife when she comes home. You'Jl never regret it. I think we'll find when we grow old that it's not tho kind deeds

that will cause us sorrow, but the othnr ones. Off you go !" " I'll remember yoursermon, Joan. Good-night, and God bless you ! I don't often use such phrases like that, but I really mean it to-night" Joan nodded. She really could not trust herself to say any more. When the door closed on Robert Angus, she gulped clown a great sob and went away to prepare her solitary meal. (To be continued.')