A SOUL'S DEVOTION

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 244, 12 October 1907, Page 14

A SOUL'S DEVOTION

By CHARLES GARVICE Author of " Lome, or Hollow Gold," " Tha Marquis," " Elaine," etc.

CHAPTER X-XI. (continued). Graham Gordon goes up to the window. "Seriously," he says, "why should you persist in remaining in seclusion while so many desire your presence among them ?" May looks down. "I am very happy as it is," she says in a low voice. He smiles. ''But how about their happiness! If you can add to it —why should you not?"' "Here's your hat, May," exclaims Carrie, "and here's your jacket. You haven't seen her play lawn tennis, Mr. Gordon! She can give Miss Baldwin points and then beat her. Come along, Alay!" May puts on her bat and jacket smilingly,'and they go out, Carrie chattering it their side "in her usual light-hearted fashion. All Warley is on the tennis-ground and gives a most hearty welcome to Mr. Gordon, who has absented himself from their gatherings during the last month, and all Warley welcomes the beautiful Miss Dalton, who. so to speak, makes her first appearance among them. "That is as it should be, my dear," says Mrs. Baldwin, pressing May's hand. "We all know your sister, and have long wished that you should join us. lam very glad to see you." In her plain black dress with white lace at throat and wrists, her tall form stands out from the rest, marked by that peculiar grace which is May's -birthright, and which rough fate has not robbed her of. There are several visitors from the neighbouring towns, and Mrs. Baldwin goes from one to the other, graciously explaining away the little air of curiosity and surprise at the appearance of a school mistress at the Grange. "Oh, yes, she is the school mistress," says Mrs. Baldwin, "but they are both most unexceptionable. You remember tbe Mr. Dalton, the millionaire and financier? Well, these are his daughters, brought down by a sudden misfortune. Beautiful? oh, yes, she is very beautiful, poor girl!" and the good-natured mistress, who, like Falstaff, "is fat and scant of breath," went from one to the other, thoroughly enjoying her little display of benevolence and sympathy. Meanwhile "the poor girl" scarcely seems to require much of the latter article. Lawn teimis—if you know bow to play it—is one of the best things for melancholia and all other love complaints, and very soon May's cheeks are crimsoned, her eyes are flashing, and her red lips laughing as of old. "Tour sister plays a good game, Carrie," says Graham Gordon, who has scarcely" taken his eyes off the beautiiul face he loves so dearly.

"Don't she?" asserts Carrie, who has managed to get into a violent perspiration and is being fanned by Master Baldwin—from Eaton—who has fallen desperately in love with her, and whom she teases almost to the verge of youthful _ae_ess. At the present moment he is fanning her with his hat, and gazing with all a boy's admiration Is.to her clear, artless eye—.

"Does she not! " says Carris; "there's nothing that she do__*t do well, but lawn tennis is her particular game. Why don't you play, Mr. Gordon?" " Mr. Gordon used to be captain of his college club," says young - Baldwin, looking up at him with an awed smile. " That's so many years ago," laughs Gordon, nodding at him; "however, I'll take a bat if they can make room for mc."

A few minutes afterward he is playing with May for a partner. Both are excellent players, and it is a treat to watch the skilful handling of the ball; gradually a little knot of spectators gathers around the court, but May, who would lave shrunk into her shell a month ago, seems to have cast the garment of shyness from her this afternoon, and stands revealed as the May of old, in all her fresh, frank beauty. Gordon, too, has thrown aside his clerical gravity, and his voice arises and mingles with hers and sounds like a lad's fresh from college. Of course they win, and then stand looking at each "other, and each feeling rather abashed at their buoyant spirits.

" You will play again," he says eagerly, but May shakes her head, laughing. " No, I am quite out of breath." "Come and sit down," he says, and he brings a chair for her. " Mind you don't catch cold. Have you brought a shawl?" he asks, with that quiet and respectful solicitude with which he watches over her.

May laughs, and throws her pockethandkerchief around her neck, thereby unwittingly making a snowy line of ■white to throw up the delicate tints of her fair, oval face. He stands over her, looking down at her, his love glowing fo his handsome eyes. "'Are you glad you came?" he asks. '•'Yes," she answered a little shyly. " I am "lad. I should not have ventured out of my shell if you had not persuaded mc. I am glad I came." "And I," he says in a low voice; "to see "you happy is the gladdest sight in the "world for mc. And I think you have been happy! " Then, fearing by the sudden, downcast lookon'her face, and its heightened colour, that he has gone too far, he goes and brings her a cup of tea. The way in which he hands it to her is eloquent of his devotion, and May would need to be insensible not to feel it. Hex heart begins to beat, and she looks around with vague uneasiness, and takes out her watch. "I think I must go now," she says, arisim:. "It is Saturday, and I have ever SO much to do. Carrie can stayI will go and bid Mrs. Balwin goodbye." He does not follow her, but when she has. with much difficulty, got away and is half way across the field which leads to the villa"ge, she hears a step —his step —behind her, and she turns.

'•'Why did you come? " she says. "They could not spare ycu yet." " You reminded mc it was Saturday," he says, coming to her side, " and that 1 had my sermon to finish." Then as May looks down he asks humbly:

■'•' You are not offended—you do not think it intrusive of mc to follow you?" She looks up, a vague trouble in her

*" No, oh, no," she says, in a low voice, and goe on raplidly: —

" What a ple_sant afternoon we have had. I don't wonder at Carrie's liking them ail. Did you tell her that she need not hurry, and that I would send Margaret for her?" "Yes," he says with a smile, "but I think she considered the information ei—te superfluous. She told mc that she

didn't think of leaving yet, and that she would be sure and take care of Margaret." May laughs. " I am afraid that Carrie is not quite so respectful as she ought to be." "Carrie knows when she is loved," he says gently. "We are great friends, and understand each other perfectly. If she were my own sister " Then he stops with a quick flush as the significance of the word breaks upon him. •'• Yes," he goes on rmly, "if she were my own sister we could not care more for each other. I wish she were. May, dear, dear May, you can make us brother and sister. Why will you not do it?" May stops, then hurries on, her hands work nervously, her colour coming and going. No girl in the world could remain insensible to such devotion. The power of his manly presence and deep musical voice seems to enfold her. "Why will you not?" his eyes fixed ardently on her downcast face. "Do, May: you know how dearly I love you. I made a vow that night I parted from you, a month ago, that I would rot pester and harass you, would not speak to you of my love fo- a month. I have kept my word, though the weeks have seemed woefully long and weary._ But here I am at your side again, with the old story. I have nothing to add to it, May. except that I will not ask for too much, for all your heart at once. I know, or I can surmise, that there has been a something painful and trying in the past, but I do not ask you to confide it to mc. I don't want to make you unhappy; I would lay down my life to purchase your happiness! " and his voice breaks. May looks up. the tears in ber eyes. "Don't—don't!" she says. "I am all unworthy. I cannot give you an3d;hing in exchange for all you so Dobly offer mc! 0. I am quite unworthy! "' He flushes and takes her hands. "Unworthy! " he says, then stops, his emotion silencing him. "No, May! in in my eyes you arc worthy of the best love that the highest could offer!" "You don't know —you don't know," she says, breathing fast. '"Xo!" he enjoins quickly. "I do not wish to know. You shall tell mc all in good time —years to come, if you will: It is your present and your future I ask for, dear May; your past has passed into God's hands! Give mc your promise to try and love mc. and I am content—ah, more than content! May, do you not think I can make you happy?" She looks at him with passionate earnestness. "Xo woman could be but happy in your hands!" she says, fervently; "oh, 1 know that! but —I—l have but the shadow and semblance to give in exchange. My life seems a- shadow; my heart is lost forever!" "Xot so!" he says; "for I will find it and keep it for my own—my very own! Come, my darling! By a word you can make mc the happiest man in tbe world! and Carrie—will you think it vain of mc to say that Carrie wm be happy, too? Dear, dear May—give mc the right to win your love! God helping mc, you shall not repent it." As he speaks, he takes her hand and draws her to him. If there be a girl in the world who could resist the eloquence of his voice and presence—well, it is not May. ' With rapt eyes she looked up at him, and her head droops, almost against her will, upon his breast. Two hours later Carrie, running in flushed and breathless from the race she had run with the little maid-servant, Margaret, and finding the house empty, springs out into the trim little garden, and almost into the arms of a tall, dark figure who is just entering the house. •'Gotxl gracious!" she exclaims, "is it a burglar? Oh. it's you, Mr. Gordon! Where's May? Have you just murdered her, and come from burying her under the apple-tree? Oh, there you are!" she rattles on, as May comes from the shadow and slips past her into the house. "Why!" exclaims Carrie, staring with amazement, and is about to follow when Gordon slips his arm about ber waist, and holding her for a moment, bends and kisses her. "Mr. Gordon!" gasps Carrie, looking up into his happy, laughing face, "have you gone clean, stark mad?" "What's the matter, Carrie?" he says coolly. Can't a brother kiss his sister?" Carrie opens and shuts her mouth like a fish, with speechless surprise for a moment, then with a cry of delight, she stands on tiptoe and gives him his kiss back. "Oh, of course!" she says. "But is it really true? Oh, I am so glad!" Then breaking from Mm, she runs into tiie house from room to room, and at last finds a quiet figure standing beside the bedroom window. "Oh, May!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around May's neck, "is it really true?" May laughs softly—it is too dark to see her face. "Are you glad, Carrie ?" "Glad! I am frantic with delight; May, he's the best fellow in the world, and too good for anybody but you. Oh, May, and this is to be the end —the happy end of it all! Glad! I could cry with joy! Oh, May, he will never leave you as the other did, not if all the Rose Vavasours in London were tugging at him." May starts, and her face blanches white to the very lips; but she does not speak, j merely strokes the rough, tangled hair from the fair forehead anel kisses it. , (To be continued daily}.