LITERATURE.

Bush Advocate, Issue 355, 19 August 1890, Page 4

LITERATURE.

> \ DAUGHTEE. * • .^QjlAPTEß JL^Continued.) t . ; • * J s^tjjDw'^fan ; it, feji : *ny A°? r »* roplMSir Giles.,, « l'* tog you will not, in fact. I shall write to Geoff to-night and-»hiipcome dosm fa see me at ont.' Wm*fi**W*4rfthings comfortably you know. This has been a surprise vto me; when I saw tfpuj £on^s y J had „not the iaiifi«!^idlalot-#nlt%waß*to learn. * Geoff and I will have a great deal • tf VSffltl3 tM bet#Wff f uSj^y; ''dear*' Now, thougti^t'i^brry^ bid you adieu. I,must ask you to leave me. train to town. You'll hear all about my intention refgafciitig your future from \our husband in a day qr two. I'm sure W'lV f&Mheii that you've done the~*right thing and that Geoff h£sj>Benf a foblj Goodbye, my dekty |ood%e.^ * Anita held out her hand to her iatheiWaV; • a ." 'llttla yfarffed W this sudden Sismlsdal j W the old man did not. *P81&-<$ i 9-J i P%- ***• c rang the,b«K; WiMl.footraan appeared. , • <*,*.■ ?«(S>fllßr* t&itf •■ ladf s 1 *artisift« "he 1 Baid, and held 1 the ?4db«!'6pen himself to allow her to pass, watched her as she tripped across the hall, and then, when he heard the carriage drive a'wky, clbsed <i| with a slam, and $ag|erß&Dack-t;d.his armchair, pale as a ghost. T^fc fltffchV /; An'fta H&heririfetdn; go^ft'onA' ffl& P«6t;f * {i fe^BtW became her mUgrViiigs as to the succes^f her mission, to its master. So long- f W'sW rM'beert^Sir Giles presence , she, , had felt confident that she had^leaded her cause well, and that the old man really felt as friendly -disposed towards her as he had declared. She had had no doubts of his sincerity,^ no, suspicion of any dou N ble)mean'&g'i&; his words ; but as she sped along in the train^pwards.London .gradually a change icameVover' M 'feelings. She became nervous and doubtful, recalled looks and words that would admit of a different coustruction than L &43rjeared; at first sight, and enofecl by entering her pretty retreat at Me^nha.m in .anything .J)f a trAmp2t'flSe'6rmind. li ' M T ' 'If I have failed, if there should really be a quarrel—between Geoff and hie father, there'll be only one thing, left for u^-for^me^to; Ao. Dubr.de 1 woujd be\Qhl^t_6 glad if dm sign that agreement with him ; he's bMl^W&*'&> Hd It 4dr'M MM past. Geoffrey can't bear him, but if the worst comesi^o the worst he'll have to put up with it and let me sign Jjbve ;on deed, t don^t feel' inclined to try, and if the old man is inexorable, I mus~t do "my best for both of us. Heigh ho ! I often feel inclined to to wjs,h; jTftadf sajd poor^eeff as I did to so many others. He'd . have forgotten me by this time, I daresay, and 1 should have made a ltft'ofimoney this:past> year /instead; of moping myself to death. What a fine place tha^rxory^ \ps> little solemn antt' glttm-r^biitf 1 would soon change all that. I wonder what the old fellow will say to Geoff? I suppose he'll be here tomorrQv^ mprnipg/- if helll bßYer^ngryipv'or^yiJ ui\\j { But though Mrs Hethenngton waited breakftst'/tjll » ;a } very late hour next morning, her husband did not ap'pfeah/ day Wsdd/ without hefrseelng' him or r'eieiving a line from feM,^^ dinner was put on the tamo at eight 0 clock in the .evening « and he f he jb%dL noti wnved^Aiftta fetf » b'oth' ' bross and frightened. It was not till .*paafc nine o'clock that a hansom cab dashed up to the gate of the little garden, and r Anita heard her husband's well-known footfall cross th e hall. r^\iu\ ) She shivered and turned pale j there was something; in. -the sound of his footfall ' that frightened her. •■'■..-■ ; He looked terribly stern and hagas he enteiied.il nH « Well, you naughty boy—' she beganji advancing to meet him ; but as she met his eyes she stopped short. ;4}heiwoids she was about to utter died on her lips— she could not speak t\iimi v ' * Well, Anita,' he said, in a hoarse voice, ' look at me*' ■' ! ' '• ; ' > ' ■ •"'- And he laid his hand on her shoulder. /She shook herself • 'free, pettishly. ( ' Don't Geoffrey, you • hurt ' me ; it's no use trying to bully and frighten me !' ' Bully you !' he replied, with sorro^ful.scjpvn.in hie voice,,! removing his ; hand,a.t once, . '£ don't : think I eve/^trijed that, _ Anita ; but, ; .,in. Heaven's name! I—and1 — and ho, .flushed passionately — ' what made j'ou deceive me ! What made you act in the mad way you did yesterday and ruin us both V 'Ruin you 1-1 N.onsen&e ! What do you mean f she retorted, loftily, .whatldid; u.He-rw your fathcr4-^i l d;l,;\yas,r.ighti;. tJiat^ j^ou ought to have told him of our marriage long a.^o. He was very polite, very kind. Yes, you may kugh' (as poor Geo/f burst into a derisive' 'laugh V;" ' I "dKrcsay you w<in'der 'yotiffftthor 'conrU-sceiide/l to spefok to rite, 'thatlhe'flidn'fc'tiirn nic; out of the house at once; but Mid' seemed pleased to see me. Don't look at me like that, Gcoffrej'. I'm not a fool, though ho s.uid you were. Has her written I He 1 said ; bjo would.v ? ' iethmf s&a 1 ■ iiHe ; /c'tt'eV You are very, very unkind to .me.fir;; \t6 ft'/.. ;.i" r • '- "'<■ '■•>"■'* 1 Unkind ! No, I am not unkind, ioor, foolish child !' replied Gooff,

bitterly. ' V 6h : !' : you don't know what you have done ; you don't understand my father. ■Ah! I can comprehend how he; ■received you ; flattered and caressed youjl and fob ieVer>undsratppfl].ithe iirony of his words and actions. His letter ! You s,hall $ee,it it you like, Anita ; but *i$ sybu^ili take my [advice you will not read it.' I ' But JTwiiri You 'bMII".»6Ii hide jit from me,' she cried, angrily. ' I jdon't believe Sir Giles was a bit 'angry. I don't believe anything ;but good will come out of my visit !to the Priory. Don't stare at me ilike that, Geoff— l tell you jou jmake me quite nervous pf& A |me the letter.' ! She stretched put her hand for jfche note Qeoffrey^ held. He hesittated to give it to her. « i She snatched, it from him angrily, 'anoV sfco'od under' 'tKe' chandelier in jthe middle of the pretty room to bad it, the light falling full on her Hushed, excited face.. j It change terribly as she read pn ; first angry crimson stained it, then she turnded pale even Jto^ the v ips|ra\id^earjßi hf iage, M$ disajp-J pointof cm/ f feat f and •* moriandatidn'^ illed her oyes. I /. : <Yoii! IshoUldnnobiihaVell set\ me? Mads sucli i m ftirilulfcing n iefeter,' #ti£ (jriisd^futiouslfjo^-fYptt^hbttldhave' burnt it father. l»Wiatxw J 'brute I ! What a liar your father is ! 'A woman itenjyeaip yonr senior^ a,fitthrate actress! i">dtegrace f to indeed !' Geoffrey, you must not let jyour father speak^'o of your wife. Yes, I am your wife — his daughter-jn-kw?!jThe deceitful ojol'Wr^c.h;^ k;nu what—^-what does he mean by saying ho will see you, to morrow for iheU^^e^ttH^^hJ-^fd he must settle everything comfortabb WiiWywij whato'did he nVeknb^hk^?*' 'Comfortably for himself, perhaps, ftepliediCrebffrey; ,with;a«scoi;&ful smile thatjrejiiin.aedf';hiß!/'wifei pf her father-in-law. 'He will ' arrange ■' to stop my vallowapce, to cut me out 61 his wihV tti ruin me, and turn me out of hia house — that s what he'll do, Anitay.and I shall have you to thank for it all.' ■■ Hfs voice faltered a^ he said the last md iibhed dvt&f %& hide his emotion. ; ' l ßut he can't beisQicr-uel— so unjust,' she cried. ' I must be Lady Het^eringto.n ; ppe day, : and, yoi^Si^ Geoffrey, .^^ejc'a^ts^ak^ tjie title from you.' ; " 1 " * I 'The title! No ; certainly. But, jvhat is the good of a title to a pauper ? If he stops my allowance and leaves his money away fttoidXtie] I £hall be a beggar, as I have always told you. I shall have .toldaye the service and work for my daily bread how i an4 ! ,:wh.e^e t lfcan,' he ' ' ' I He looked at her sternly and quietly, and his ttfHe'Ma'rried conviction to her heart for the first time, j and covering hori^fa'ce with her { hands she burst into hysterical peeping. ,s!oo7/ I ' It't no use crying, Nira,' he said after a pause jv S tl}e mischief's done. £ must go d6wn to the Priory tomorrow to f hear my doom. Poor child ! < You'll j suffer more than I $hall. Anita ; you will miss so many otthe.sm'all-idbmforts and luxuries <^f life you have been accustomed to ev^«^tlfi&,4ittte rj]ace.'v/o!i>i 'If II « ir ' I — l can work. I can earn money,' she sobbedu . .s. i 'My wife cannot — shall not vvork,' he answered, gloomily, 'so long as I can work 'for her.' i 4 And what can you do— how can <■ wbrki V '■ she replied; '<- locking xt^i ' with tearful eyes. 'Oh ! Geoffrey, if you would only be reasonable — be sensible, and lot me go back to the stage. Listen, I could get an engagement, a first-rate engagement now— at this moment, if—' rr

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