Nerine's Second Choice

Auckland Star, Volume XXVIII, Issue 152, 2 July 1897, Page 3

Nerine's Second Choice

BY ADELAIDE STIRLING.

CHAPTER 111. (Continued.)

1 You've done it,' Kit observed to Maurice as they drove away, the match over. " Done ib really—thoroughly !'

' Maurice, how could you ?' Nerine broke in. ' Fancy asking even a well-to-do cat to come and dine with us ! And whac aro we to do for servants T

1 We'll get servants !' said Maurice, unabashed. 'My dear girl, if you know how friendly Satberleeand his mother have been to mo you'd know I had to ask him.' 'Maurice,' exclaimed Agatha, 'where are we going to have dinner ? Nob in the morning room!' Nerine, at the prospect of having a dinner party and defying the absent Mr Mayne, laughed aloud.

' We'll break open the dining-room door ' she began. Maurice turned round on her.

1 Do you mean to tell me Mayno baa had the importinence to lock the door of any room in the uoubb bub bia own ? he demanded.

'I mean thafe everyone of the downatairs rooms but ours is locked,' Nerine returned, composedly. ' I suppose he is afraid of our pawning the drawing-room ornaments or the beat spoons !' 1 Well, I'm biowed if he shan't find them unlocked when he gQts back. Thank goodness we've only ten month* more of him.'

The horses were going at a good pace, and they were passing a heavy cart, eobhat the ttvo girla in bho back psab did nob hear Kitty Belton speaking sofbly to Maurice, ' Are you sure,' sho said, ' that you have ten months more before bhe girls-come of age ?' ' What ?' Maurice Bbared. 'Of course I'm sure.' • How old are you ?' •Nineteen,' lie answered, gruffly, for he hateri his youth, ' but I dare say I look older.' ' You do ; much,' thoughtfully. 1 Whab do you mean, Kib f the boy asked after a long pause ; 'or do you mean auybhing ?' ' I can't tell you here. Nothing, perhaps'—hor forehead clouded—'but I was wondering if mamma could be right and Mr Mayris wrong. Well, don't bother now. I don'b wane to tell the girla till I tell you. \\ nib till we're alone.'"

It vrai< nob till very lato thab afternoon chat they were alone, Agatha and Nerine having gone for a etroll in the garden after tea. Up and down they walked and talked as they did erery evening. To-night ib was Neriiib who hud tho iloor, and she talked of nothing but SaUerlee, a subject on which Agatha had not a word to say, though her tongue was wont to run nimbly. Indoors, Kit and Maurice sab in more or less ono sided conclave.

Ib had grown chilly with evening, and they had drawn their chairs on tho hearth ru». In her yellow tea gown, with bar small feeb outstretched to the heat and a lovely (ire-burned colour glowing in her face, Kit was a sight to delight Maurice's eyes. He had not seen such for many a long day, and its put the thought of what ehe might have to say to him quite out ot his head. ' What do you think lam usually doingat this hour?1 he said, turning to her. ' I don't know,' absently. 1 Standing a frrimy, sweltering object in the machine shop !' and he laughed merrily. 1 Rather different from thie, eh ? Kit,' reproachfully ' you're nod listening.' ' No ; I'm thinking,' she returned, elowly, her eweeb little face very thoughtful. ' Maurice, your father died vvheu you were a bnby, didn't he V 'Ye*. Why?' 'And your mother married again when you were—how old ?' ' Two. Seventeen years ago. Tell me, why arc you asking me all these things that; you know as well as I do ?' ' Because my mother says thab you were four aevontean years ago. Hush ; wait! You know how mother never destroys anything. Well, the other day she iound some old letters, and among them wan one from your lather, giving the date of his marriage with your mother, and one from your mother when cshe was going to be married to Mr Wayne. In ib she aaid ib would be an advantage to her children now to have a father's care, for they were growing quite big, tho twins beiug already five year 9 old and Maurice a year younger.' • Did you bring the letter ?' he eagerly asked. • No, bub mother has ib quite safely. Listen, Maurice. You know mother scarcely saw you children before your mother died, and when she camo bo the funeral eho thought) you all wonderfully big and old looking for your ages, when Mr Mayne said you were only four and three. Bub she did nob pay much atbenfeion really and never thought of your mother's oid lebter till the other day, when she came across it by accident. Maurice !' impatiently, ' why don't you say something ? Don't you know thab if mamma ia righb you are all two years older than yon think ?' with deuparate emphasis. Maurice gob up and stood with his back bo her, looking i«to the fire. ' If I find out that ia really true I believe I'll kill him,' ho said, with impressive emphasis. ' Kib, Kib, if ib isn'b why have you told me?1 ' Ifs is—ib musb ba true. Mamma is always accurate,' she said, firmly. ' And if thab letber, dated seventeen years ago, says you were four ab that time, and your father died when you were a libtle baby, why, don'b you see that all you have todoia to get bho exacb date of his death or the registration of your birth to find ou6 how old you really are. And than you could acb ab ono !' Maurice did nob turn round. • My darling Kib,' he said, softly, • you f rgeb thab my father was killed in ammo : .nd tint his body was never found ; and in .Tovia d'jotia, until the last five years, there as not been any registration of births or leafeha. I wrote once when I was sixteen or bo to an addreea I found in a book of my mother's to ask if anything were known as to the death of my father, and I had an answer from the son of the man I wrote bo i —ho hiinseif was dead—saying thab a Mr Lispenard had been killed at the mines, but that he could nob get any information regarding the date. Neither births nor deaths were registered officially, and there was no one ab the mines now who remembered any p9ople called Lispenard. So that door is shut.'

• You must have been baptised, and your mother must have had a copy of bhe baptismal certificate.'

'Mr Mayne has all her papors—if there are any. And as for the church I was christened in—why, Kit, it may have been anywhere from British Columbia to Nova Scotia. I don's know where 1 was born and neither do the girls. The only evidence we have to go on is that old letter of nsy mother's, and I don'b know whether bhab is of any use or not.' 1 \Vo have your looks—and the girls,' gaid Kit, dotrtiediy, in the midst of her disappointment. * And I believe them. Do you look only nineteen?' shrewdly. But Maurice could nob lite to the bait of his detested youth.

11 can't believe it;,' ho said, sitting down beside her rather dreamily. ' And if I did believe it, I can't k° on a wild-gocoe chaso to America trying to find out where I was born. It would use up all the ten months thab are left, in any case,' and he laughed rather grimly, ' even if I had the money to go.'

Kib turned scarleb. She rosa rather stiffly and stood looking at him. 'All right.' she said. 'I'm sorry I said anything, since you aeem to care so lUtle. I told you because I knew if you were of age and had your money, mamma wonld lot us be engaged and everything wonld bo right. As ifi is, it may interest you to know that another man has proposed to mo, though, of eouree, I shall never be forced to marry him !'

She moved toward the door with some dignity after thab suggestive threat. Maurice sprang after her.

' Kib, you borburo me,' be said, as she pushed him away from her. *1b would be bad for Mr Mayne if I lost you through any work of hie. Only I don't honestly see whab wo are to do.'

Kit eyod him for one iosfcanb where he towered above ber, but before speaking the had the grace to hide her head.

1 Mr Mayne is away,' she remarked frem the dcpbhs of Maurice's arms. 'Let me and you go and rummage all through hia papers. Thab is one of the things I came for.'

'We can't,' stoutly. • Here are the girls. Don't tell them, Kib. I couldn't bear bo talk of it, and Agatha would never speak of anything else, Write to yoar mother for the lebter.1

He kissed her with sudden passion. 11 adore you!' he said. ' And whether I am of ago or nob, I swear no other man shall havo you. But I don't think I could bring myself to wade through the dirfey waters of Mayno's aflaire, in bhe way you suggest, oven for you, my dearest,' (To be Continued.)