Novelist. [ALL RIGHTS RESEVED.] TWICE TRIED.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 2596, 2 March 1889, Page 1 (Supplement)

Novelist. [ALL RIGHTS RESEVED.] TWICE TRIED.

BY ANNIE S. SWAN,

Author iif " Aklersyle," "Carlowrie," " Across Llcrl'.itl]," " Sundered Hearts, ' &c, <fce.

Oiui'TEii XlX.—AnUxextected MEETING, ii the pleasant drawing-roem of a luxurious mansion in the West End of London a company gathered on tho evening of a foggy December day. Closed shutters, drawn blinds and heavy velvet curtains could scarcely keep the thick Thames vapour from penetrating into the room, and there were hazy circles round the lights of the chandelier, •which obscured their usual brilliance The room was large, lofty, and hand some, its furnishings and adornment indicating that its owners were persons of wealth and taste. It could comfortably accommodate about fifty people, but there were not more than a dozen present. Mrs. Hartin»ton, the wife o? the principal of tho well-known publishing house, Harringtons and Co., was noted for her select and enjoyable social gatherings, and her Wednesday evenings were, eagerly anticipated by those to whom she was " at home." A clever and intellectual weman was Mrs. Christopher Harrington ; and yet, to look at the very slight, girlish figure, the fair, winsome face with the laughing eyes and coronet of short brown curls, one would have scarcely associated her with the idea of a clever women, nor did she look a very tittingjhelpmeet and companion to the grave, silent, elderly man whom she called her husband. Christopher Harrington had married late in life, but the union had been one of pure alfection on both sides, consequently they were very happy. Two children had been born to them—twin boys—in whom both were bound up. Although it was one of Mrs. Harrington's usual reception nights, there was a special interest attached to this gathering, and it was very select, only a privileged few having been asked to meet the guest of the evening, the lady who?e name was beginning to be mentioned with honour in the world of letters.

Tho initials " J L." were not yet familiar to the insatiable devourers of the library three volumes, and •probably would never be. The new writer was one whose words would be read by few, never by many. Those who had heard Mrs. Harrington speak in Mattering terms of Miss Laurence's appearance were not disappointed—they found her a handHome, distinguished-looking woman. Jjut her manner was not winning, nor attractive. It was brusque;, short, and even repellent, it had been only after repeated solicitations that Miss Laurence had consouted

to be introduced to some of those most anxious to meet her, and she had laughingly warned her hostess, who was also her friend, that she would be certain to regret it. " I have an inborn aversion to strangers," she had said. " I am just like a snail : I could creep into my shell at the mereset hint of any denizen of the world of which I know so little. lam only a country girl. Have pity on mo, and don't force me to face such an ordeal.'' But Mrs Harrington had laughed away her entreaties, and, as usual, had her wilful way. But though Miss Lrurence did not take a prominent part in the conversation, she listened and enjoyed it to the full. And one or two who, out of their deep interest, watched her closely, said the line eyes kindled at times, telling that the soul was awake though the lips were so provokingly silent. " You are interested in tho subject Professor Truelitt has just referred to," said a voice at her elbow. " I believe you know more about it than all of us put together." It was such a pleasant voice, and the blue eyes bent upon her were so winning in their expression that Joan smiled, and finally laughed outright. " I am so glad you have come to talk to me at last, Mr. Giles," she said, with that frankness which only thoso who knew her best were permitted to see ; and she leaned back in her chair with a very satisfied expression in her face, which sent a strange, swift thrill to Giles Harrington's heart. He was the younger brother of Mr Christopher Harrington, and a junior parnor in the firm. He was six-and-thirty, but carried his age so well that ho might have passed for ten years younger. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, line-looking man, with a face which at once inspired trust. Many wondered why Giles Harrington, popular and beloved as he was. had never married, but if there were any reason apart from the fact that he had never seen the woman he could love, he kept his secret well. Joan Laurence had always liked him since that day she had presented herself, in some fear and trembling, in the dingy oliice [ off Paternoster-row, bearing in her i hand the manuscript which had already been rejected by three inexorable publishers. He had been so gracious and courteous, so different I

from the grim individuals wha had so persistently shaken their heads, and uttered so mercilessly the verdict which had been such a blow to her hopes. For the manuscript in question had been the ourcome of a year's toil and study, and she knew that it was good. The Harringtons without holding out any hope of accepting it, had agreed to read it and when she called again at the specified time she was agreeably surprised to find them willing and eager to publish. The story, a deep and intricate study of motive and character, without any great plot to recom mend it to the commonplace reader of fiction, had not, at first, promised to be successful. But it made its way slowly, yet with sure, unmistakable strength. One of the best critical papers spoke a word of hearty praise, which was re-echoed by one alter another, until its success was assured. It made no great stir, nor did it excite a popular craze but it was spoken about by competent judges as a remarkable book, and its author as an exceptionally clever woman. So Joan Laurence, having found her sphere, saw stretching out for her a career of usefulness and honourable independence, with which she told herself she would be amply satisfied. " How glorious it must be to be gifted with an eloquent tongue," said Joan, presently. " I have read several of the Professor's philosophical articles in the Contemporary without being at all convinced that he is right. But, if 1 heard him vindicate his theory in such a masterly manner two or three times, I would not answer for the consequences. The voice carries so much more power with it than the pen." " Possibly ; yet the influence of tho voice in comparison with that of the pen is almost nil," answered Giles Harrington; "only a limited number hear, thousands upon thousands read, the words penned by our master-minds." " It is true. Then the responsibility of those who wield the pen is greater," said Joan, dreamily. " Will you excuse me telling you how very much I admire your sister-in-law 1 She is my ideal of perfect womanhood." Giles Harrington smiled, and followed Joan's glance in the direction of his brother's wife, who was listening with sweet patience to the grumblings of a discontented old lady, a distant kinswoman of her own, who intruded herself in season and out of season upon the household in Gadogan-place. " Yes; I might well envy Christopher his happy home," he said, quietly. " It was a blow to me when he married, Miss Laurence. Before it wo were all-in-all to each other, and there were only the two of us." " You do not regret it now, though," said Joan, quickly. "JN'o. Instead of losing my brother, as I feared, 1 have only found a sister," answered Giles, with a sweet sunny smile. " Only it has made mo a little discontented with my own solitary existence " " That can be easily remedied," said Joan, with a smile. " .Not so easily, perhaps, as you

imagine," Giles said, with something of significance. " Another arrival? Who can it be so late? Oh, excuse me ! It is a friend of mine, Mrs Harrington has often asked him to drop in on Wednesdays. lam glad he has come tonight. May I bring him to you, Miss Laurence 1 He is a Scotchman." Without waiting her reply, Giles Harrington crossed the room to greet the tall stranger newly announced. Miss Laurence did not hear the name ; and for a moment she felt oblivious of everything around her. That manly figure, that noble head, that open, honest face, with the fearless eye and the grave, firm, sorrowful mouth-—all,

all were too familial' to be mistaken. And when she looked upon the face of Robert Angus she knew how false was the peace with which she had deceived herself. Ah ! a woman does not so easily, so soon forget 1 Joan Laurence's heart beat, her pulse quickened, the blood seemed to rush impetuously through her veins. A new light stole into the deep, serious eyes, and a colour like the loveliest blush of a pink-lipped shell leaped into the pale cheeks. Her eyes were down-dropped, but sho knew the instant Robert Angus saw and recognised her. She heard him say something to Mrs Harrington, and the next moment lie was at her side. "Joan," was all she said, and she gave him her hand, and when her eyes met his they were full of tears. "It is the thought of long ago, Robert/' she said, quickly. " I feel just as I imagine a Scotch exile might feel at the sight of a bunch of heather from his native hills. How little I. expected to seo you here !" "Or I you," ho returned. "I did not know you were in. London." "I live in Loudon now, you know. Ic.'imo up in the autumn," sho answered. " And you ? "What brings you here V "I, too, must livo in London. You know I have been abroad for six months V Joan nodded. " I knew from Mrs Angus. When were you at Auchengray ? " Before I caino up to London, two months ago. I have got a partnership in a banking linn in Lombard-street. I could not settle down to the old life again, Joan."

Joan nodded, and there was no time to .say more then, for Giles Harrington came up to them, with rather an aggrieved look on his face. " This is not fair,*' lie said, laughingly. " I thought I was to have the pleasure of introducing you two Scotch people to each other, and here you have .stolen a march upon me. Why didn't you tell me you knew Miss Laurence, Angus ?' " My dear fellow, I might ask you the same question. How was I to know you had any acquaintance with Miss Laurence 1 You have never mentioned her name in my hearing." " So you are old friends?" said Giles, with something like regret in his pleasant voice. " You have known each other for a long time, I suppose V " Since we quarrelled together in pinafores," laughed .Robert Angus. " I must go and speak to Mrs Harington now. Tell me, Joan, when and where I can see you again." " My address is Sunset Cottage, Kew, and 1 shall always be at home to you," said Joan, with a readiness which sent something of a pang to Giles Harrington's heart. And yet, he told himself that the perfect unrestraint between those two was in his favour, for since they had been merely friends so long, might they not so continue still I So he resumed his seat by Miss Laurence's side, but found her abstracted and inattentive to his remarks. It was with dilliculty Joan could bring herself to answer him even in monosyllables, for her heart and thoughts had lied with strange persistence back to quiet Auchongray. CHAPTEK XX.—Giles Hakrixgtox's Wooixa. '' Giles, I arn quite out of patience with you. Do you know what I said to Christopher this morning ?" So said Mabel Harrington to her brother-in-law one evening, when they happened to be alone together for a few minutes after dinner. "Why are you out of patience with me, Mabel';" asked Giles, with indolent indifference, which rather piqued the little woman. " Oh' for a thousand things !" she answered, with pretty impatience. " You are moody and unsociable, cross and unreasonable, and " "Have mercy, Mabel! I shall sink beneath tho weight of your accusing adjectives," said Giles, lifting a deprecating hand. " I am sure I have never exhibited any of these undesirable characteristics to you." "Havon'tyou indeed, sir? Do you know how long it is since you dined hero, how long it is since you deigned to honour my Wednesday evenings ? Nearly a month. And I believo people are beginning to think we have quarrelled, or done sorno other equally dreadful thing." 'Mb it really so long?" asked Giles- in astonishment. " Well, to tell the truth, Mabel, I have felt rather out of sorts lately—not in the mood for mixing in society, you know. But I didn't think you'd mind, or that you missed me " " Now that is neither fair nor kind, Giles," said the young wife,

quickly. " You know that Christopher and I miss you very much." " And what was it you said to him this morning? You have not told me that jet." "Well, I said, Giles, that I thought you must be in love," said Mabel, with a little twinkle in her bright eyes. *' I could think of nothing else which could account for the extremely unpleasant change in you." Giles Harrington turned his head away, and began to walk slowly down the long room, and Mabel knew that her little arrow had gone home. When he came back to the window again all the laughter was gone from his eyes, and his pleasant face was troubled and grave. " Mabel you are right, as yon always are. Will you tell me the truth ? Do you think I have any chance 1" " Why not, Giles ?" " Oh, you know. Don't you think she cares for that Angus 1" he asked, almost bitterly. "If I hadn't brought him here, and got you to invite him back, they might never have met again until it couldn't matter whether they did or not." " How long is it since then, Giles ?" "It must be about six months. It was before last Christmas " " Did you know your own mind then ?" "Of course I did. I've always known it, I think, since the first time I saw her that day she came to the office," said Giles, gloomily. " And what are you waiting for? What have you been doing all this time ?" said Mabel, almost impatiently. "It seems to mo that you are anxious Mr Angus should step in before you. Why, if you were in the least like Christopher," she added, with a little tremulous smile, " you would have been engaged, perhaps married, to Miss Lawrence by this time." " Don't laught at me, Mabel. Tell me what to do. Do you think I have any chance V

" Suppose I thought you had all the chances I wouldn't tell you," said Mabel. "All I have to say to you is, go and find out for yourself." "It is easy for you to speak, Mabel. "Women have the best of it ; and she is so far above me. ; ' "Xay, I will not allow you to do that. Joan Laurence is a clever woman, but you are a clever man ; and, what is infinitely better, a good one," said Mabel, with a smile and a tear. "If you will take the advice of a woman who knows her sex pretty well, don't go humbly to Joan suing for her love as a priceless favour. I know her well ; and your best chance lies at you being what you arc—honest, manly and fearless —the best man in the world next to Christopher," she added, and now the bright eyes filled with unmistakeable tears. " Thank you, Mabel; you are too good to me," said Giles, taking the slender hand a moment in his own. " Then you think I should venture now or never?" ' Of course. ' Faint heart,' you know," laughed Mabel. " Oh, Giles, Giles! to think that you should be conquered at last; and so completely conquered, too, But there—l must not tease you. I hope you will be successful. You would make a splendid pair, and I am sure, would be nearly as happy as Christopher and I." Giles Harrington's face brightened, for her words seemed to carry hope with theni. '•Well, I will lose no time," he said, with a new energy. '' I am afraid I have been dilatory too long. Good evening just now," '•Aro you going-up to Kew tonight?" queried Mabel, in some little surprise " Yes, now. Miss Laureueo goes down to Scotland soon. I may not have another chance." So Gilos Harrington set out upon his wooing-, and Mabel watched him. striding down the street with tlio air of a man who had an object in view, and then dauced off to the library to acquaint her husband with the conversation and its results. (To be continued.)