CHAPTER IV.

Auckland Star, Volume XXVIII, Issue 246, 23 October 1897, Page 6

CHAPTER IV.

I 'A KNICKERBOCKER FAMILY. < When the door of the morning" Jm closed behind the Chirfrf iPolice and Polly Cousin MrPagg | turned upon Ms heel and began to. 'See stiffly up and down, while his Jig-tires. . , 'Mr Talfonrd is coming. ISStion of Mr Paget, and he began to walk again. . ' 'I don't want to see him. 'I ao' As she spoke the servant entered, and presented a card. 'Ask him to come to me here, Harkl'Harkins,' said Mr Paget, 'bring the letters and the morning' papers to me in the library,' and Mr Paget passed from the room. In another moment Max lalfomd Stood bowing before her, with a look of surprise which he could not conceal, in his frank, handsome eyes. "Mrs Paget rose, and put out her land'to him. 'Max—' she began, and ithen stopped, with her eyes fixed upon his face. Her greeting increased his surprise, and roused his apprehension. He felt her hand trembling in his. He was embarrassed, and said the first words that came to him. 'I have just received your note, [Mrs Paget.' And then, after another gjance at her face, 'What is it? Has anything happened?' She sank back into her seat, and mojtioned him to another near her. 'Leah—' she began, and once more {3he was unable to proceed. 'Leah? Is Leah ill?' He sat down in the place indicated, •and waited eagerly for her answer. Mrs Paget looked at him mournfully for a moment, and then said, as 5f she must explain her own position first: 'My daughter and myself have always been confidantes, Mr Talfourd. <I have been aware of your mutual affection since—since the first.' 'She has told me as much,' the young man answered, in a hushed )fcone, as if the theme were a sacred one. 'But for that knowledge I should mot have ventured to send for you 5n my present trouble. Tell me, do jyou know where Leah is?' 'Where Leah is?' 'We have lost her. She nas gone from the house—no one knows where.' 'Leah gone. Mrs Paget, for God's sake, explain. What can you mean?' He was on his feet, pallid and startled. 'Poor boy,' she said, with motherly ipity. 'Sit down, and I will tell you sill that we know.' It was little enough, and unsatisfactory enough, when all was told. JAnd when she ceased speaking, lie sat silent for a few minutes —then: 'And was it the Chief of Police and Jtis assistant that I met at your door p.s I came?' he asked. (1 'Yes.' (\ He started to his feet again. (" 'I nrast see Captain Connors,' he sa-.id. 'Mr Paget was very wise in appealing at once to the police. Mrs iPag-et, I must help in this search for ■Leah. You won't forbid it?' ']\ Tot if your heart is with us.' ' 'My heart is with Leah Paget, and my hand will be against whomsoever has done her a wrong- or an injury. 3VIr Paget has not been well-disposed to ward me, but now he must know [the truth, from one of us.' 'It shall be from me,' she g-entty interposed; and then added, as he was about to thank her, 'and let me say mow, so that we need not speak of it again, that I have not shared in his opposition to your suit. It is only the prejudice of one man for another. I looked upon you as Leah's equal, and told my husband so. But your lather and Mr Paget have not been friends for years.'

I' 'I know; some old business trouble. I have meant to ask my father to explain it to me.' 'And Mr Paget hoped for an engagement between Leah and the son of "his oldest friend.'

Talfourd's eyes sent out a flash of jßomething like resentment. 'Yes; Frederick Quinlan.' ; 'Oh, so yon know—'

'I know. I think every one knows that Qninlan has been —I might say is .—a suitor for Miss Facet's hand. (That is one reason why I have wished ■to make onr engagement public to stop Quinlan's follies.' He checked 1-iimself. and put out his hand with a .look of almost boyish appeal. 'At Jeast, Mrs Paget, I have your friendship, your toleration? You will accept ivy services as if —as —if I were indeed your son?'

Up to'tJu's moment the brave mother had kept t>ack her tears, and suppressed all"otitvard signs of emotion; but this appeal, this sympathy*, touched her keenly. ishe put ont her hand toward him, a-nvl burst into a flood of .tears. When Mr Pagef entered his library —a room which ho had long looked upon as his own private domain, and which was seldom visited by Leah or Mrs Papet —it was not to occupy himself with either letters or newspapers, except to glance at the handwriting ■upon each envelope, and to assure himself that nothing1 was there that might in any way throw light upon the mystery of his daughter's disappearance. Once satisfied upon this point, the letters were thrust aside; at the newspapers he did not so much as idupcc

Air..r Paget was a proud old mail, can'; '"■;-• his head with soldierly erectjiess in spite of his C 7 summers and

winters. He was full 20 years older than his wife; but he still had the same grave, stern face, crisp voice, and keen eye that had seemed to her the embodiment of force and dignity when he had wooed her many years ago. He sat very erect beside the long library table, and scowled up at the glittering chandelier. It was Max Talfourd, this same impertinent young- man, now tete-a-tete with his wife, who had changed the even current of his life. And the fact that his daughter, his beautiful only child, had disappeared, and that he had been brought to the necessity of calling for aid from the vulgar police, was mixing itself with a queer jumble of hostile thoughts against the house of Talfourd, when the door opened and his wife entered.

Mr Paget started slightly, and hastily took up one of the unopened letters.

'Well, Miranda?' said he, affecting to be busy.

She came forward, and stood beside the table, just in front of him, and very near.

'I would like your attention for a moment, Abner.'

He put aside the letters and said again, 'Well?'

'Sometime since, more than a month ago, I showed you a letter, written by Mr Max Talfourd, asking- you to sanction his engagement with Leah.'

'After he had obtained the sanction of the young lady. Yes, I clearly recall his extraordinary proceedings.' 'Mr Talfourd's "proceedings," as you choose to call them, were very manly. Our daughter was not reared in France. You know what I think of these old formulas. Mr Talfourd simply asked Leah's permission to speak with you, and obtained from her only that permission —■ nothingmore.'

'Yes, Leah is a sensible girl. She does not discard all the good old formulas.'

'When j rou declined the honour of an alliance with the Talfourds in so peremptory a manner, and finished by sending Leah a message through me forbidding her to think of }lax Talfourd, you overstepped the limits of your power.' 'Madam!' Mr Paget sat more erect in his chair —if that could be. 'When I attempted to speak with you upon the subject you would not hear me.' 'And I do not wish to hear you now.' 'You must hear me now. For a year or more I had seen that an affection was springing into life between Max and Leah. When you came between them with your authority, Leah was terribly hurt, although she was too proud to let you see it. I felt grieved and anxious, for Leah never again mentioned the subject, and I knew that was not a good omen. One day Leah came to me in her straightforward way, and put a ease. "Mamma," she said, "if you were of age, and had always been a dutiful daughter, and if you had learned to love a noble young man, your equal in birth and breeding, more than your equal in fortune, and if you were sure of yourself and of his love, and you were commanded to give him up for no better reason than that his father and your father had ceased to be friends, —what would you do?" ' 'And, pray, what did you answer?'

'It was on that very day that you had told me of Frederick Quinlan's suit, and it was in my mind when 1 gave my answer. I had not yet told her of it. I said that I could offer no advice except that she would do well to think seriously, to consult her own conscience. She was mistress of her own fate, and must judge between the duty she owed her father and the duty she owed, herself and the man she loved and who loved her. And then I told her of Frederick Quinlan's offer, and that it was your wish that she accept him. I believe after that she came to you.'

'She did.'

'And you told her that you would sanction her marriage with no other man. Do you want to know Avhat she said to me of that interview?'

'Humph! —yes.'

'She said you had made it clear to her that you did not expect nor intend that she should marry to please herself; it must be to please you.'

Again she paused, but Mr Paget remained silent.

'I did not mean to make so many words,' she resumed. 'This is what I came to say: Two clays after she put her question she came again to me, and told me that she had accepted Max Talfourd.'

'Accepted him?'

'She said that I need not speak of it to you again. They had agreed to keep the engagement a secret, at least not to announce it formally, for a time, and that when it seemed best to make it known she herself would inform you. Now perhaps you can guess why I sent for Max Talfourd this morning.'

Mr Paget arose quickly.

'Do you mean to tell me, Madam, that my daughter has eloped with that fellow?' he cried.

'Would to heaven it were no worse than that! No; lam more than ever convinced that something terrible has befallen Leah. Max Talfourd is as ignorant of what has happened as you or I.'

'I suppose he has made you think so,' he sneered, and turning stalked from the room.

(To be Continued.)