LOVE'S DILEMMA; OR, FOR AN EARLDOM.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVI, Issue 13, 16 January 1905, Page 6

LOVE'S DILEMMA; OR, FOR AN EARLDOM.

sr CfiARL.ES QARVICE, Aathor of "-The Mssmus." "A Martyred Love," "A WoMkß'> Sotl,* 1 ""Ska Loved Warn," etc.

To-morrow morning she would be his ' —his absolutely—his wife, his slave! , | And to-morrow, before the day closed, - 'he would know who Clifford Raven ■was. r j And, at the thought, his teeth clicked I together, and his hands, thrust into the pockets of his coat, clenched tightly. > He was so lost in the anticipation of : bis coming triumph, when proud Kate 1 should be brought to her knees, and pay ! for all her past coldness to him. that he - he did not hear a step behind him, and i started when a cheery, chirpy voice said: 1 **Good morning, my lord!" He turned with a little start, and - swore under his breath when he sawthat it was only the doctor, and merely ; bestowed a surly nod in response, for . Lord Carr-Lyon was far too great a man to waste civility on doctors "and that kind of people." "A wild morning, my lord," said the doctor, holding on to his hat. "I hope we shall have a brighter day to-morrow. 'Happy is the bride the sun shines on!' you know; and we all wish Miss Kate every happiness." '"Thanks." grunted his lordship. "And I think the wind's dropping a little, even now," went on the doctor. "I shall have a hard fight of it along the cliff." "What the deuce do you go for, then?'" remarked Carr-Lyon. "Duty, my lord, duty! I've got a patient in Wood's Quarry. A very ticklish case, too.' - ---"Oh!"' was the response, indifferently. "An accident?" "All. don't quite know," said the doctor. "Not an accident. I should say; but the whole thing's kept very quiet for the present. It's a most romantic and interesting case. - ' "Is it?" said his lordship, curtly, inwardly wondering at "the fellow's cheek" in bothering him about his "beastly case." "Yes," continued the doctor, cheerily; "most romantic. I've had a hard tussle to bring him through, though he is a splendid fellow, with the physique of a Roman athlete. I shouldn't have got him round as well as I have, indeed, if it wasn't for his nurse, pretty little Nellie Wood." Carr-Lyon swung around, then turned again and kept his eyes fixed on the sea. "Oh, a girl, eh? His sweetheart, I suppose r" The doctor laughed. "Well, I don't know. I could answer for her, I'm afraid, but not for him." "What—what is he a quarryman ?" asked his lordship. "Well, yes, after a fashion. Yes, he is certainly the manager of the quarry, but he is certainly a gentleman, poor fellow." "Oh. he's the manager of the quarry, is be?" said Carr-Lyon. with assumed indifference; "and you say it wasn't, an accident ?'' "No. T think not —I am sure not. indeed: but I am speaking iv confidence, my lord, for the good people who arc taking care of him are anxious to keep the affair quiet." "Then somebody wont for him—is that what you mean?" asked Carr-Lyon. bis heart beating. "Well. yes. I think so. I think he was attacked at night by one of the quarrymen, and 1 think I could lay my hand | upon the man—though that i? the j wrong way of putting it, seeing that he ;has completely disappeared. By the way, |it occurred on the night of the Lydeote j ball, and the attack must have been I I made when he was returning from it. He 1 had been up to see the fireworks. I thinl;. I am inclined to believe the culprit was a jealous rivai; Miss Nellie is very pretty, and the man I suspect was known to have been courting her before this other young fellow arrived at the quarry." Carr-Lyon remained silent a moment. "And he disappeared—the fellow who did it, you say?" he said. "Yes. completely, my lord- Looks rather black against him. doesn't it? I don't like the idea of his getting off scot-free, for my patient may not pull through it even now; and if he should. : I fear that his mind will always be affected by the blow. He has the most extraordinary hallucinations I have—" The little doctor stopped, suddenly remembering that it would scarcely do to tell the earl that the injured man fancied himself Lord Carr-Lyon. "Oh, off his head, is he?" said CarrLyon, slowly. Then, after a pause, he I said: "What's this young fellow's name?" "' i "Raven—Clifford Raven, my lord," said i the doctor. ] Lord Carr-Lyon set his teeth hard, and 1 remained perfectly motionless for a mo- £ ment or two. t "And you say he was knocked about 1 by some fellow who thought he was i sweet upon his girl, Nellie Wood?" i The doctor nodded sapientiy. i "I feel sure of it. In confidence, I may t as well tell you the name of the man I i suspect. He is a young fellow called Vyse s —Frenchy Vyse, they nicknamed him in . the quarry." ] "Frenchy Vyse," repeated Lord Carr- ( Lyon; then he said, "You know him? 1 Can he write?'' The doctor stared. ( "Can he write, my lord?" t Lord Carr-Lyon reddened. 1 "I—l mean—l supposed he was quite ( an ignorant man. I only asked out of i curiosity, don't-cha-know!" ] "Oh, quite ignorant, like the rest of i the men," said the doctor; "and just the "] sort of man to do this sort of thing. Well, ' } I must be getting on. My best wishes t for to-morrow, my lord." j "Thanks," said his lordship. "Where's j this quarry you've been talking about?" j "In a little bay around the point T there," replied the doctor, pointing. "It c is a very nice walk to it, and the place „ is well worth seeing, if you care to " \_ "No, thanks,'' drawled his lordship. "I hate that kind of thing! Good-morning," " and he turned and sauntered off. i On the day of his chat with Lord Carr- 2 Lyon, the doctor was most cheerful over -j his patient. "He'll do very well now," he said, nod- ( ding, with a look of satisfaction. "It's been a tough fight, but we have won it, you and I, Miss Nellie. We sha'n't have to trouble the undertaker this time, Mr. Raven. I've sent you some tonic; that's what yon want now—that and freedom from worry; you're not worrying yourself, are you?" and he looked searchingly at the thin face. Clifford smiled. "No," he said; "I am not worrying; but I want to get well and about again, for I have something to do that must be done at once." - "Oh, nonsense," said the doctor. "If

CHAPTER XXI. J.N THREE WEEKS.'' The sun, pouring into Kate's ioo_a, ' had awakened her from a short and fitful sleep, which had been haunted by two distinct dreams, lifelike and vivid in their reality. In one she had been haunted by the presence of Clifford Raven and the sound of his voice, as it had poured out his declaration of love, and in the other the vision of him with the fair girl with violet eyes who leant upon his arm, and whose tears he had wiped j away. And this last vision was the most i powerful. I That the man who had laid his heart's eloquence at her feet, at one hour, could stoop to wipe the tears from the eyes of a-notber girl the next was a bitter humiliation for Kate. Never again would she put the slightest faith in word, or look, or face of man; never again! They were all alike, and perhaps, she thought bitterly, her future husband. Lord Carr-Lyon, was as good as any of them. It was a dangerous state of mind for poor Kitty to be in; but it was just the state the major would have chosen to find her in when he came hack charged with Lord Carr-Lyon's message. "Well, Kate, my dear,'' he said as he entered the room, eyeing her curiously from under his lowered lids. "Got down, then; tired — not too much, I hope?" "I am not tired in the least." she said, as she stood looking out of the window. "Bravo! just what I said to CarrLyon. I said I should come back and find you as fresh as paint. He was coming down here to see you, but 1 told him that you proba-bly weald not be up, and—er—and so he gave mc a message for you." "Yes?" she said, absently, her eyes fixed upon the gray waves. "Yes—ahem! a very peculiar message. I HHer—ise —cr—is very anxious that your en--1 cragemeut shouldn't be a long one, and I l must say I agree with him; and—er—in short, he particularly desires that the marriage should take place soon." Kate raised her face with a little start. "Soon?" "Yes; that is to say—be mentioned— three weeks." "In three weeks!" she repeated in a dull voice. Then the slight colour forsook her face and she stood looking at him with a strange look in her great eyes—the look ' a stag wears when it hears the bay of the hounds close behind it and feels their hot breath on its flanks. "Er—exactly. Now, my dear Kate, you are a sensible girL Now, let us talk the matter over. Let mc hear what your objections are " She raised her eyes to his. "I have no objections," alio said in a low, steaay voice. The major started and looked at her as if he could scarcely believe his ears; then his face grew red and his small eyes lit up. "My dear child!" be exclaimed, and he held out his ,inns, but somehow he did not carry out his intention of embracing liei -. something in the white fux-e ami fixed eyes prevented him. and ho let his arms drop to his sides. '"My dear Kate, I I—or—T am delighted to find you so sen-j, siblp." "Yes. it is sensible, is it not?" she l , said, with icy bitterness. ""One ought not j to tritle with such a prize as we have) 1 gained, ought we, papa? There are s*» many slips between the cup and the lip, ! are there not ? Will you tell Lord CarrLyon. or shall T write him a note?" sh? asked, with such perfect calmness that ' the major eyed her curiously and half fearfully. ' "Well—er—of course he would be better pleased with a note," be said: "and look here, Kate, if you will write it, I ' will take it to him; that will please him more than anything else." "Very well," she said, and she sat ' down and wrote slowly and steadily: ! "Dear Lord Carr-Lyon.—Papa tells mc \ that you wish mc to marry you in three • weeks. If you do wish it, I am willing ! to do so.—Yours very truly, Kate Mcd- ' don." "Er—er—rather cool, isn't it, my ' dear?" said the major. ' "I cannot rewrite it," she said in * ' quiet tone. Three weeks is not long in which to prepare for one's wedding garments when ' one is going to marry an earl, but ! Kate's preparations were not very extensive. It was all one to her whether she was married in a black dress or white dress; and it was Lady Warner who undertook > the direction of the trousseau. "Just as you think proper —get what ' you like," was Kate's invariable answer ' when she was consulted about anything; and Lady Warner declared she had never known a girl with so little vanity. "I suppose you mean to get most of ' the things, excepting those you absolutely want for the wedding, in London, ' dear? I hear you are going to spend the honeymoon there," "Yes, I suppose so," Kate had answered, indifferently. It was equally nothing to her whether she spent her honeymoon in London or Timbuctoo; and it was Lord Carr-Lyon's idea that town, with the theatres and the ' clubs handy, would be more cheerful than Torquay or Naples. So he had taken a furnished house in Park Lane for a couple of months, and • sent some horses up, and meant to be, j as be said, "comfortable." But as the days passed swiftly he ( seemed to become less "comfortable," and to grow more moody and silent. , But his time was coming—coming ■. quickly, too—for the day before the wed- j ding was at hand, and twenty-four hours only stood between Kate and destiny! ] Carr-Lyon had spent a sleepless night, . and after his morning draught, put on Ms coat and went out. , He fert too restless to remain in the ] house, and yet had no object for a walk,* so, in the half-hearted way of men of , his class, he sauntered down to the | broken parade, and stood looking at the • sea. \

4 * it's the work at the quarry, Mr. Wood " "Says as there ain't any call to think about that," said Mr. Wood himself, entering at the moment. "The only job thaf s urgent is getting hold of that Frenchy Vyse; and I'll have him if I have to spend a hundred pounds," and his face grew red. Clifford's brows came together thoughtfully. Then he glanced at Nellie, who sat with her face downcast, and turned away from him. "Mr. Wood," he said, in his thin, clear yoke, "I want you to do mc a favour. I want yon to let poor Vyse alone!" "Let him alone, by jiggers!" exclaimed Mr. Wood: "thas/s a likely story! I'll let him alone when I've hunted him into Exeter gaol." "No," said Clifford, gently but firmly. "We won't take any trouble about Vyse. The fault was not altogether his " "Then you admit as he did it?" said Mr. Wood, sharply. "I admit and tell everything to you, my friend," said Clifford, with a smile; "but to no one else! If you caught Vyse I should not prosecute him or give evidence against him." « "You wouldn't?" "No! You don't know all the story; but you'll admit that he received some provocation when I tell you that I threw him off the cliff ledge and nearly killed him.'' "What did you do that for?" demanded Mr. Wood, in amazement. (To be continued daily.)