A WILFUL MAID.

Auckland Star, Volume XLII, Issue 217, 12 September 1911, Page 8

A WILFUL MAID.

BY CHARLES (GARVICE* AUTiIOK Off "'iCJaire," "Her Eansom,"' "My Lady pride,,"' "A Woman's Soul," etc.

CHAPTER 'XIX.— (Continued.) "'And what Will you wear?" sayg Carrie, glancing up at him, and thinking with true womanly pride that let him choose what dress he' will, he is sure to look handsome and distinguished. He laughs. "Borneo would be the most appropriate," hn murmurs in her ear. ''And Philippa could go as Juliet," Says Carrie, mischievously. . "Or the nurse," says Philippa. "Give me a grey wig and a basket of simples, and I should make an excellent nurse." "Then the reijt oE us would go as sick persona or infants!" retorts the attache, gallantly. The Countess rises with her gentle smile. 'Well, as.you have decided to accept I will write and tell Lady Ferndale. Give ir„" the letter, Cecil.' Ho handed it to her and she glanced at it. "By the way, she offers as an inducement the presence of a great celebrity." "Ah, I forgot that!" says Cecil, toyinrr with the ribbons on Carrie's elbow. "I°am a poor advocate, after all. .Let me see, who is it, mother?" he asks, indolently. The Countess folds the letter.

"The Princess Florenza," she says. "The Princess Florenza!" repeats Lord Cecil grandiloquently. "What a splendid title for a romance, isn't it, Carrie?" 'TPlie Princess Florenza!" says the attache. "Really! Lady Ferndale is fortunate to have secured the great mystery over which we are all exciting ourselves." "Yes?" asks the countess, serenely. "Tell us 'all about her, Lord Kenworth. IWe are in total ignorance of all that is going on in town, whereas you are just fresh from the gay city. -Enlighten our darkness! Who is the Princess Florenza?" "Ah, if T could tell you that, Lady Fitz-Harwood, I should reckon myself a remarkably well-informed 1 individual. She is, as I said, a mystery. Xo one I mows who she is, excepting that she is young, remarkably 'beautiful, aocomiplished- " "And an adventuress," puts in the countess, gently. "Oh, no» not at all," re/p3ios Lord Kenworth. "The princesss comes with the very best of credentials. Quite unexceptionable aud unquestionable." "Where is tho mystery, then?" says {Philippa, who has) a taste "for"romance, 'ami eyes Lord Kenworth with -calm interest. "In this., Miss Harrington, that though she is well introduced no one knows whence she really oomes, or to- whtim she ibelongs. Some say she is the da-ugh-ter of an Italian prince—one of the Romanos of Florence-Mothers that her people are of the ancient Polish regime. At any rate, no one disputes her claim to the title."

"Really," says Philippa, edging, nearer to Lord' Kenwo'-th, and quite ready for chapter two of the romance. "Are you ' listening, Carrie;?" .Carrie, who ha s 'been listening—not to [Lord 'Keirwortfo, hut to Lord Cecil, who, Under Cover of conversation, is whispering those sweet, soft nothings which rnrnke up the suni of lovers' happiness, turns towards Ihirn with a smile.-

"I <beg your pardon, Lord Kemvorth. j think t*heard every word; please go on. Cecil,"- in a low voice r '-'if you touch that hand again my liair will come .Mown; and Lady' Fitz-ILarwood' will never forgive either you or me—l can jfeel it tottering already." Thus adjured, Lord Cecil sinks into a hammock-chair and leans hack with an air of intense enjoyment. No story oi a mysterious princess can have any 'charm for him; his princess is near to Ihis hand; he can see and toudh her,-and that' suffices.. ... ,1 " "

But Philippa i 9 'ail! agog. "And' I suppose this princess is very (beautiful, Lord Kenworth?" Lord Kenworth is in the diplomatic service, and (has learnt this much of his art:' that it is the worst of all possible politeness to praise one woman's Ibeauty before others of her own sex; so he shrugs his slouldera. "She has-'that reputation," he- says, with such a guarded air that Carrie laughs, and even 'tha' countess smiles. ."•Admit," sa.yijs 'Carrie, "that s!heis a vision of loveliness, 'Lord Keirwort'h; I see you t'hink so." "I may 'have' done so, 'Miss Carrie," lie says, with a little pointed "bow.

-. Lord Cecil laughs. "That serves, you right, Carrie! _ 1 felt sure KcnwortAi would retaliate with a; "compliment. But go on, Ken." "1 don't know that there is any more to say," he responds. "And L suppose this princess* is quite the rage in London?" says Philippa. "She would be;" answers Lord Kenworth, "'but she will not permit herself to 'he lionised; 'She has only appeared at one or two houses, ami' it has beer very difficult to. obtain an introduction to her. It is rumoured that she dislikes gaiety, and that : t is quite an achievement to get her to a ibdil or oven a live-o'clock tea." "I : don't wisl'f to seem uncharitable," Bays Lord Cecil, lazily, ".but it looks as if 'your rara avis were playing a deep game, Ken!" Lord Kenworth gazes at the ground thoughtfully. "I thought the same, Neville, hut 1 can't see what she can 'be aiming at.'

."There is an old and favourite game amongst (ladies—called matrimony," says the countess,, -ysntly. •"No, Lady" Fitz-Harvvoocl, I don't think 'that «is - it. -She refused one or itwo good offers —to my knowledge. The countess'; smiles. "And your knowledge, Lord Kenwoxtiw: ia'aomjptjflheaßiVß and unimpeachable." "Why. mother, wo are all learning to trim compliments," says Lord Cecil, with

a smile. •''Then, then," says Philtppa, whose curiosity is still unsatisfied—"then Why •ia -such'a fuss made about her?" "Because she is a remarkable' personage," replies the attache. _ "There is something about her, an air, a tone, which excites one's interest and piques one's curiosity. They say- But J am no judge of .tody's dress— —" "Oh, come, lien!" from Lord' Cecil, •accompanied' hy a ripple of incredulous laughter from the rent. —"They say,"'goes on Lord Konworth, .with admirable gravity, "that her stylo Is perfect, and that though her toilet is simplicity itiielf it is in its way a masterpiece," "Wonderful "womoia!" exclaims*'[fjord tog lep.- ' , V (

"And we are to meet this moderti mystery at Lady Ferndale's," says the countess. "I suppose they are great friends, or the princess would' not 'foe at Ferndale? If there was any d'oubt about our going it is dispelled now, is it not?" and she smiles affectionately at Carrie"Oh, yes, I am filled with curiosity, 'but.. I, warn Lord Ken worth that if the .princess does not prove very wonderful and extraordinary, I shall, for one, 'be "bitterly disappointed." "I also," say.-) Lord' Cecil. "But I think we can trust Lord Kenworth; he lias seen too many wonderful people to raise false hopes. But isn't it rather strange, Ken, that you, who have been all over the civilized world, have never met this striking personage?" lie adds, carelessly.

"No," replied Lord Kei worth. "She has been living in strict pr.vacy until she came to London. But talking of going all over the world, here comes my master," he says, as the earl is seen approaching the group with a well-worn dispatch-box. "I wonder whither I am bound for. now—Paris, St. Petersburg, Rome

"Neither," says the earl, who -has caught the sentence. "Only to London this time, Kenworth." And he hands him the case, with his grave, kindly smile. "Poor Ken," says Lord Cecil. "See what it is to be an attache. You will let him have ; crust of bread and cheese before he starts, sir?"

The earl laughs. "Yes; and I came to tell you that the luncheon-bell rang a quarter of an hour ago." _ J "Come in, then," says Lord Cecil, "and let us drain a bowl to speed the parting guest."" "It is the first time," says Lord "Kenworth, with a courtly bow to Carrie, "that I have felt inclined to resign my berth!" "Very nice, and so true!" laughs Lord Cecil; "seeing that Ken considers his position rather higher 'than that of a king upon his throne! Go to. Ken! you are a dissembler." And so, with general laughter, they go

CHAPTER XX. "Do you remember the Maltfield. ball, Carrie?" whispers Lord Cecil, as he draws the gray domino round her slim form. It is the night of Lady Ferndale'a fancy-ball, and the Harwood party are gathering in the great hall, preparatory to the start for Ferndale. "Do I remember it'/' she answers, in a voice as low as his, and with a sudden light in her eyes. "Do you think 1 am likely t to forget it? What a wretchedhappy, miserable-delicious night it was! I wonder whether you will ever undei' stand how my heart sank when I came down the little stairs at home and saw you in your slippers! I had so counted upon your going! Cecil, I came very near to hating you at that moment!" He laughs, and under pretence of trying on the black mask, just touches her cheek with a lover's kiss. '•Take care, sir!" she says, colouring, and looking round. "Do you think all this crowd are blind?" "Only Phillippa saw it, and Philippa doesn't count, dear!" he says. "Are we ready, mother?" turning to the countess, who descends the stairs with her blacksatin sweeping behind her, and with that look of reposeful ease which is a neverceasing source of wonder and delight to Carrie. "Is not' that like a woman? When we have all been waiting for the last five minutes!" The countess wears neither domino nor mask, and the earl is attired in his usual evening dress. As he remarked, no amount of disguise would conceal their identity; and it is understood that he is only to be expected to put in an appearance, remain for "an hour, and then be allowed to return, post haste, to his beloved dispatch-boxes. Lord Cecil wears the dress of a Norman troubadour, and looks with his clean-cut face and rippling hair, the chai acter to a nicety. It is Carrie who has suggested the troubadour idea, and as she stands "beside him, she touches the strings of an antique guitar which hangs by a golden chain of mediaeval workmanship behind his back. None of the ladies are in fancy dress, all -being content with the dommos which will conceal, for a time, the ball dresses of Sabastiens a.nd Worth.

Although the great hall ia tolerably well filled with the party, there is no rushing about, no undue excitement; the tone whicß Carrie has' remarked is never for a moment broken; and as Philippa comes up to them she touches her, and says, — **; • "Do you remember the fuss and worry at home when we were starting for tho Maftfield ball, Flippa? Would not one think 'that all of us here were in the habit of going to a :fancy_ dance every evening in the week excepting Sunday? and Philippa retorts pleasantly: "We have changed all that, my dear. ""And is the fly ready*" asks Carry, with a laugh as the footman opens the door and she sees the handsome carriage with The bewieged servants waiting. "Of what are you talking, my dear? says the countess, -looking at her with gentle admiration and approval. "I was just saving 'that the last time we went to a ball we went in a flysuch a dear old tumbledown thing, Wasn't it, Philippa?" "And no doubt you enjoyed yourself, my dear," says the countess, who is too true a lady 'to feel the shock which would have run through Lady Bellairs at such .an admission.

Carrie glances at Lord Cecil, and her eyes droop. "Yes, oh yes, very much." "And I hope you will enjoy this," says th ; countess.

•'We mean to be perfectly gay and hilarious, mother, directly you have left," says Lord Cecil. Then they sort themselves, as Loid Kenworth says, for lie . has come down from London by special 'train, though he will have to rush hack again an hour after the ball is over; and the horses dash—not crawl, as did the Maltfield fly —down the drive.

Twelve miles arc soon disposed of when one commits them to such cattle as the Harwood horses, and the party are soon a't the entrance of Ferndale. (Continued daily.)