CHAPTER XIV.

Clutha Leader, Volume XIII, Issue 665, 15 April 1887, Page 7

CHAPTER XIV.

TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. Valentine was waiting for us in the picture-gallery, among the portraits of his ancestors, whose acquaintance he made for the first time to-day. He looked at ine anxiously, and I fear saw little in my eyes to encourage him ; he assumed a gay manner. ' I thought you and Mrs Payne had eloped,' he said. 'My friend must have seen every nook and corner in the house, I am sure.' Mrs Payne smiled, and looked at him with great interest. ' Well, Philip,' he said, 'we must be off now. Thank you, and good-bye, Mr3 Payne. You will please accept this.' So saying, he offered her a bank-note. She waved it aside. 'Then I shall .send you the silk dress from town. I sha'n't forget it. Goodbye.' ' There was something else you promised me, sir.' ' So there was,' said Valentine, really laughing. 'To think of a lady lining obliged to remind me of such a debt as that.' He leant down and gave her the salute she asked for. • Ah, Mr Valentino !' said the good woman, ' I nave kissed you thousands of times before, when you didn't know it. I was your nurse, sir.' ' My friend has told you my name then. I hope you have given him good news for me.' ' I am afraid not, sir. But, Mr Valentine, things may come right for you yet. Sir Laurence may relent, and want to have his youngest son with him.' ' If Sir Laurence wished to give me the- whole place, and all within and around it, I would never set foot here until he has repaired the cruel wrong he has done my mother.' Valentine spoke fiercely, and poor Mrs Payne was almost crying. He was longing, no doubt, to hear my. news; so our good-byes were cut short, and we stood on the main road, with the gate at which we had entered behind us. ' Now, Philip,' he said, ' tell tne all you have learned. Is it good or bad ?' 'It is bad. I had better not tell you.' ' You will tell me every word, Philip. That there must have been reason for suspicion as far as appearances went I know, or my father would never have acted as he did. It is where the mistake arose I must find out.' So I told him. I told him all, and was both astonished and glad to find he was not so much affected by the news as I feared he might be. Valentine's faith in his mother was a sacred and beautiful thing. He laughed scornfully. ' My mother, the Lady Estmere you know, standing at an open window embracing a Captain Chesham ! The idea is too absurd, Philip.' ' May she not have had some reason for iti They wero relations, you know, and Chesham may have been very different when a young man.' ' No, Philip, never—had she done so she would have known where the mistake arose and would have set things riijht. She never knew why my father left her—never.' ' She must have heard of the duel.' 'Yes, and then understood that Chesham was in some way mixed up with it. Since then she has never spoken to him.' ' Whom could Sir Laurence and Mrs Payne have scon at the window V 'I don't know—whoever ib was, it was not my mother, Philip,' he continued, turning to me almost fiercely, j j ' Do you believe in iny mother's iunoI1 cence—freely and unreservedly V

<I d 0 — freely and untese'rvpdly,' I said, holding out lily hand to him. 'It V/as a plot df that bur;' said Valentine i ' t will wring the' tiruth out tif hind sotiie dayi' Valentine .junlpe'ct oi the' Balne bon* clusibn as Mrs T^aynej although I had Hot yet told him about Chesllatii's conce'aliherit Of Sir Laurence's ex^e'bted r'eturn; indeed) I thought it better to say nothing about this Until 1 had taken counsel with tiord Rbtliweil. J£ iiifbrmatidn of aiiy kind c'dUld be 1 forced or extracted from Asmode'uSj Valentine" sliduld be 1 the last person tb attßUijlt td dbtain it: A knock-down blow Scarcely JJredisjloßßs a mail tb t)pe"n his lips alia confess Ink crimes for tlib betieiit bf hi£ assailant. I wdiidbred whether upon my return to tdwn I dduld bHrtg myself to hlakd a slidw of friendship towards Cheshani, and reap! any advaiitage for "Valentine i'rbni an^ casual boast or hint I might hear whilst in conversation. THat Cihesliam spoke freely dnough about his exploits I knewj liaVing heard him" that evening at the 1 Club. Yet even all assumed appearance of friendship with such a nian would be a heavy jjrice to pay for 1 such a slender chance of attaining the 1 end £ desired. Any ways I had plenty of tittle td think the niatte'r dVttr. Wd should stay sonic weeks at Mirfiela; When I returned to London I could make my mind up how to act. We had spent so much time ab Bstmere" Court that we resolved to put Up for the 1 night at the first decent inn 1 we came to. We found the accdrtiniodation we needed at the little village we passed through, and in the morning some sort of Vehicle — its friends would call it a carriage, its enemies a cart — • took us the twenty remaining miles} and deposited us at OUr Ultimate destination* Its noble Owner welcomed us heartily j and apologized laughingly for the defective accommodation of liis bachelor establishment. • I llaVen't set foot in tile place for 1 two years/ he said, ' although I call it my home. The rooms in this wing ard habitable and fairly comfortable, but I dread to look elsewhere; I let the shooting until this year 1 , but I did not care to have strangers in the house, so it has practically been shut up.' Strange ifc seemed that two of the best houses in the country-side should for the sake of one woman bo deserted* For I knew that his early attachment to Lady Estmere had been the motive 1 which had sent Lord Rothwell wandering through strange countries, and to which the, public owed several of the ploasantest books of travel ever writteiii Whatever might be the state of the rest of the large house, we had enough Snug rooms for our party, which was augmented in the evening by the arrival of my old acquaintance, Mr" Stan tort, and our mutual friend, Vigor* (To be Continued.)

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