A HERITAGE OF HATE

Auckland Star, Volume XLI, Issue 37, 12 February 1910, Page 18

A HERITAGE OF HATE

BY CHARLES GARVICE, Author of "Tin! Marquis," "Lorrie," "A Modern Juliet," "By Devious 'Ways," etc

CHAPTER XIV. The story of Lord Katton's "gallant rescue.' , a= the "Gazette" continued to call i: in paragraphs and leaders for sevrra; weeks, spread round the county, and ra;-ed R.i!pu to a position and popularity which lie would not have reached in the ordinary course for years. People nui i!e haste to call upon him, he was flooded with invitations; ani wherever he ■went lie won golden opinions; for he was quick to observe and learn, and 'he saw thi; his line was "to sit tight, and e:iv noiiiing" or little, Ueing an actor, in- w.i> also quick to imitate, and in an incredibly short time he managed to n.-.j-i:ro at least the outward veneer of It.—'i:n;. He ienrnt to address the men without their title?, and to salute the ]a i;-- with that air of deference which surprised him when he had first seen it; for hitherto he had regarded women as inferior creatures, to be petted or bullied as the mood dictateiL He began to feel le.- - asiiTimod and seif-eon-seious when be entered a room full of people or met two or three men unexpectedly. He got a quiet horse and. learnt to ride —in the e.niv morning when there was no one Nearly everyone called him "a good fellow." and even those few who regarded him with a kind of doubt, admitted that lie iras "doinsi his best"; and ail agreed that he was liberal with his money. He eub.-criiied to everything—the cricket and fMOtbal! club?, the hounds, the county jnees, the new steeple for Market Ratton church: and even the Weslevan minister came away from the Hall with a cheque i..r t;v fund of the rebuilding of the chapel, and had nothing but good to say o: hi- lordship. When Ralph rode or drove into Market Ratton, ttie tradespeople came nut to their doors with Ix>\y= and smiles to receive his orders,

and everywhere men touched their hats fsv:n his good-will. He ipuiit money freely, and not selfishly. *Xew cottages were put in hand ior the labourers u;i the estate, and the tenant- had only to a-k fur repairs and improvements to obtain them.

"ii".- well we have plenty nf money," Creyfol 1. the steward, remarked to Mr. Bulpit. "for we're spending it right and left. His lordship wgll !« the most popular landlord iv England, if he goes on like this. Ciles went to him yesterday, an.l got him to promise a new home6 tead —>r very nearly a now one; and only a few t'aVs ago he told mc that he had liP'icW t>> pull down that row of cottag. = in Uolden-lane and rebuild them. Yes. he'U be the model landlord, Mr. Uuipit:"

Mr. Bulpit grunted and coughed. '■Yes.' , he ~.-ai.l: "but it makes it rather hard for tie other landlords who June no money to spend, and whose tenant? are drawing comparisons between them kiiil Lord Ratton."

"You'd better drop him a hint, then," Bail Mr. Greyfold, "or he'll get himself disliked br his own ctes. and chat won't counterbalance his popularity. with the } .wi-r. You kr.ow that- there is a grand dinner-party at the Hall on the sixth? J; will be the biggest affair the old Hall has seen for many a d:iy. I've ordered the Hungarian band, and a chef is coming from Louden. It will only want one thing—a mistress! But I suppose we shan't hare to wait long for that. Lord Ratton is far and away the best match in the county.'' Mr. Bulpit nodded, but made no response. He had been watching the career of the new curl with keen interest and gome surprise; for ue had expected that the young man who had ouly a few weeks .ifJ" presented himself mud and dust-stained at the Hall would -'make a mess of it." And now heTe he was high in county and public favour, and bidding fair to be the most popular man in the county! Ue drove over to the Hall on the afternoon oi the day he and Mr. Greyfold hail held the above conversation, and found Lord Eatton just returned from a xi.le on his quiet horse, and a≤ his lordehip greeted him pleasantly with a "Hallo! Mr. Bulpit; glad to see you," the ■Did lawyer could not help remarking the change jn the young man. The old restless, -elf-conscious air had disappeared —or nearly—and a newly acquired eonfi.----der.«-e and ease had taken its place. Only occasionally was that twist of the und'er-Hp, the half-suspicious glance from tiie corners of the eyes, noticeable. "Want to see m-2? Come in! Hot, isn't iti Bring some seda and whisky," fee added, to the footman. '"I'm glad you've t-ome. I wanted to ask your advice. Shall I put the Hungarian band in i_e gallery on the sixth, or shall I keep that" for a cosy place for sitting out in, -"■' stick the band somewhere else? —~,» Hancing—in ■[!■■ ..'- '.'- ■- b =.i : i - . .vij. "I . =•_.;•■':■-- ' ihe, lease?."' sa-M Mr. i^. c - - "i\-Ur.-v.yrcyf.old telle mc that you. iuive corwnu-i to rebuild Gileses homestead-" R.iiph nodded as he bit the end off a cigar, and seated himself on the arm of one of the old oak chairs. "Yes: that's all right, isn't it? The man bothered about it, and I consented to save any further trouble. It doesn't matter, does it?" "Xot to you. Lord Eatton," said Mr. ■Bulpit. -with a grim smile; "but you aro setting a rather painful standard, which your fellow landlords will find it difficult to reach. For instance, one of Lord Hatherley's tenants came to mc yesterday wanting something done, and "when I refused, he said he wished he was a Ratton tenant. You see?" At the mention of Lord Hatherley's name Ralph's careless demeanour changed, and all in a moment came the tvatcnful. sidelong glance. '■How do you mean?" he asked. "That Lord Ha-theriey and a number of your neighbouring landlords ate not so "well off as you. Lord Ratton." "I didn't know that Lord Hatherley was poor," said Ralph, with affected indifference. Mr. Bulpit grunted. "The Hatherley rfii- i= trailed. It irocs to a boy nephew.. ;;» no doubt you know; and Lord Hatherley is anxiou= to make some provision for his daughter, Lady Mary. All his savings are Invested with that object; but if he were to administer the estate on your liberal scale, there be W> fBfT ing* to in.Te»t," .*, i

Ralph nodded, and smoked thoughtfully.

"I see," he said. "Now, what does he invest in?" he asked, so casually that Mr. Bulpit was taken off his guard, so to speak.

"In railways generally; but lately he has been buying mining shares —very niuch against my advice," he added, grumpily, as he spread out the leases for his lordship's signature.

"Some mines pay very well, don't they?" said Ralph, as casually as before.

"Hem! —yes; but Fm not cure that the New Golconda will. Sign here, please, my lord. I nope you bear in mind the hint I have presumed to give you."

Ralph looked up with a laugh.

"I always bear your hints in mind, and act upon them, Bulpit. A-nd you'll admit that things have worked out pretty -well, eh?" he said, with a covert air of triumph, and just a suspicion of the twist of the under-lip. "Very well indeed, my lord, and 1 congratulate you." said slr. Bulpit. Ralph straightened his shoulders, and looked round with an air of self-satis-faction. "You'll be here on the sixth, Bulpit?" "I'm afraid not, my lord." said the old lawyer, quietly, but firmly. "Oh, but you must!" insisted Ralph. "I must ask your lordship to excuse mc," said Mr. Bulpit, as he gathered his deeds together. "I seldom go mto society, and I know that your lordship will have no lack of guests." Ralph laughed as he flung himself into the arm-chair. "What a dry old stick yon are, Bulpit! Ton my word, I sometimes think you'll never forgive mc for being who and what I am!" The old man coloured. "You do mc an injustice, my lord," lie said, gravely, and with perfect selfpossession. "In my profession we have no room or use for prejudices." Ralph looked after him as he drove off in his old-fashioned phaeton. "The old devil hates me —for some reason," he muttered. "I wonder why? Xot that it matters," and he turned away ■with a laugh of contempt and conscious power. "The Times" lay on the table, ana he picked it up and turned to the morning news in the money article.

Sew Golcondas were "firm" at present.

"If anything should go wrong with them; and it might," he muttered. Then he flung the paper from him with an oath. "What does it matter to mc? I'm tied hand and foot. But if I were free!"

A little later he walked over to the Manor.

Scarcely a day passed without a visit from him, and Lord Hatherley was always glad to see him, and greeted him, as on this occasion' with—

"Oh. is that you, Ratton? Come in. my dear fellow. Mary, here is Loid Ratton."

And Mary would come forward with a smile, but a grave and, as it seemed to Ralph, a sad and cold one.

"I've come to ask Lady Mary's advice," he said this afternoon. "Where shall I put the band—in the gallery or in the hall?"

They discussed the question for some time, until, in sheer weariness, Mary decided in favour of the hall, and then, on some pretext or other, left her father and Ralph together.

"Do you know anything about mining shares?" asked Ralph, when the door had closed upon her.

Lord Hatherley looked up quickly, and laughed in his frank way.

"Not much, I must confess, though I hold some," he replied.

"Yes?" said Ralph quietly. "I'm told that the New Golconda is a good thing; and I shall buy some."

'Tlow strange!" exclaimed Lord Hatherley. "That is the mine in which I hold some shares."

Ralph laughed.

"Then I'm sure to be all right," he said. "I hear they are going to do wonders."

"Really? I—l think I will buy some more; I have a little spare capital," remarked Lord Hatherley.

Ralph said no more, but quietly changed the subject, as if he attached little importance to it; but as he walked back to the Hall his brain was hard at work. Every time he saw Mary, the longing for her grew more intense, the loathing of his bondage more bitter. There were times when he almost forgot the existence of the wife he had deserted, when, surrounded by women who were anxious to make things pleasant for t"-nri, mothers with marriageable daugh- - -vr." -■ ill.! u|-on rtiTi. tbr dougrhters ■ .Phr-s :-■ ■■-"p. V:» npv.-rv.*.. he w ■ i.\l .-;;„ -.- ~ . i-".- h:n-«?'.f IV.-v. h» j ;yht disci-r-:- I.at -h- 1 -«•*« '•.-,-■ >•- r , . -i£>'.t ■ • ■ •■ ZT<ui pnrt , arriven, I ' uli "j _. ;~ .- . in t -:., i ]a ii r np'o<vin>; ..:.- icuesLi. -■'- ;<■-•* sKiing w-itr i-.-iua.pc. . nis m>, i~- • — -.-[,. ;. : a canker in the rose ot ns piospcrty. It was soon seen that the young earl intended to mark this initial entertainment of Ms with something like magnificence. The dinner was a superb one; the somewhat sombre hall had been relieved and lightened by palms and exotics whose brilliance shone against the old oak; the vast conservatory was illuminated by ' parti-coloured electric lights, and the fountain in the centre scattered a delicate perfume. Near the conservatory was stationed the famous Hungarian band, which played softly during the dinner, but started a waltz soon after the coffee had been served in the drawingroom. 'Is there to be a dance, Lord Ratton?" exclaimed the young duchess, her foot beating time to the music. "There shall be anything you please, duchess," he said. "Then I please to dance," she responded gaily; and he offered her his arm, and led her into the hall. The others followed. The spirit of gaiety stirred the brilliant crowd, and, with a buzz of excitement which was somewhat novel in a country house, they began to dance. "Ratton is doing the thing in grand style," remarked Lord Parodel to Lord Hatherley. "We don't often have an entertainment of this Arabian Nights' kind in Downshire." "Oh, he's the most generous, the most liberal-hearted of young men!" responded Hatherley, -warmly, "It -was a lucky day

for the county when he came into Katton. He's a real good fellow, tool" He was'not alone'in this opinion, for many echoed it as they looked at Ralph as he danced with the young duchess —he danced well, they noticed—or moved amongst his guests. His dark eyes were flashing; there was a triumphant smile on his lips. "All this is mine; these great people are my guests. I am the Earl of Ratton!" he was saying to himself, while those who watched him thought he was simply pleased by the success of his party. And that it was going to bo a great success who could doubt? The admirable dinner, the "costly floral decorations, the heavenly band, filled the hearts of the guests with" delight. But there was one exception. Lady Mary, the loveliest girl in the room, looked pale, and preoccupied. She smiled, for the most unsophisticated of girls can smile when their hearts are breaking; but one woman, at least, knew the worth of that smile. Lady Bryan had glanced at her once or twice during dinner, and now, as the dancing commenced, she came up to her. "My de<rr, I haven't been mble to get near you," she said. "How gay ana brilliant it all i=, isn't it?" Mary assented' i proper terms, and Lady Bryan, after a moment, whispered: "I have just had a letter from—from Edward, dear. Would you like to read it? He asked mc to give it to you." Mary blushed like the rose, but, pale as a lily the next moment, took the letter and hid it in her 'bosom. Would she like to read it! She looked round the room far a quiet corner. She saw Lord Ratton standing, the centre of an admiring group of courtiers, his dark eyes flashing, his lips curved with a smile of sucesss and triumph. The expression oif his jarred upon her, though he had saved her life, and, with her hand pressed upon the spot where the precious letter was hid, she went through the conservatory on to the terrace, and finding a eea-t, Eat down and took out the letter.

She had scarcely read the first vpords, ■when Ralph came "out from the conservatory. He had looked round for her, intending to ask her to dance with him, and, missing her, had come in search of her.

For a moment or two, as he etood and watched her, and ashe saw that she was reading a letter, the passion of jealousy flamed up and joined the passion of desire.

His face went white, and the twist came to his under-lip. Scarcely knowing ■what he was doing, forgetting evertything, he went towards her, and sank on the seat .beside her.

She started, and crushed the letter in her hand, and turned with something like fear in her soft brown eyos.

"I—l startled you," he said. "I—l came in search of you. I want you —will you dance with mc, Lady Mary? No, 1 don't ■want to dance; I want to speak to you. I—I —love you. I want you to be my wife."

She gazed at him, the fear deepening in her eyes.

"Lord Ratton!" broke from her pale lips, with a kind of horror; for it seemed monstrous to her, this avowal of his, with her lover's letter crushed in her hana.

" I love you," he said boarsely, his face as pale as her. "I want you to be my wife."

She rose and looked down at him, for he seemed incapable of moving.

"Oh! no, no, no!" was a.ll she could say, panting, and trying to repress a shudder.

" Why not?" he said thickly. " 'What —what—is your reason?"

She pushed the hair from her forehead and looked from right to left, like a hunted animal seeking for escape, succour. "Don't—don't ask mc!" she said in a low voice; "'please—please don't ask mc! ,, I—l could not! Oh! no, no!" He rose, white to the lip. "I've frightened you," he said. "Yes; that is it. I'm sorry. Don't —don't think any more of it. I'm sorry. I —l don't want to frighten, to force you. Shall we —shall we go into the house? " Almost unconsciously she put her hand upon his arm. As they -went through the conservatory he said thickly: " You—you won't say anything α-bout —about this, Lady Mary?" She shuddered openly now, as if ■with relief from a terrible peril. "No, no!" she assented. "I will Bay nothing —nothing." He nodded, and wiped his brow, looking round covertly, as if he feared tnat they might be overheard.

""No; say nothing. I—l—will wait," he muttered.

(To be continued daily.)