CHAPTER III.

Clutha Leader, Volume XVII, Issue 875, 24 April 1891, Page 7

CHAPTER 111.

I THE END OP A WEEK. With a heart full of bitterness and I conscious impotence, Arthur Loving ■ rose from his bed in the middle of the ! ni^ht and went out. The streets were ' silent and deserted. He walked south- ; ward, and along Oxford street and ! Park Lane, and down Knightsbridge | way, thinking all the while not oil whither he was going, but whether it would not be wiser to take himself off the scene at once, by enlisting as a soldier next clay. In this unsatisfied and distracting state- of mind he found himself, somewhat to his surprise, in front of his uncle's house in Cadogan Square. Arthur was rather ashamed on making the discovery, and beat a quick retreat. On his way back to Marylebone, the poison of Ralph Loring' s advice began to have its turn, and — as poisons have a way of doing — it flew rapidly through every vein. ' if there only was a chance, ever so faint a hope !' he exclaimed. ' Ah, but it would be worth trvin^ for !' j The fates seemed to be with Loring, ' or against him, according as you look lat it. Sleeping none that night, he : > went out early for a walk in Hyde ! Park, and met Maud Lavolle having : her morning gallop. She was uni attended, and reined up her horse itn- ; mediately she saw him. How charmi ing she looked ! with the light of youth and health in her eyes, uncl their pink on her cheeks. And she was glad to ; meet him, too, and made no secret of it. ■ She glanced down in his face with j some concern, and, hesitating a little, I asked : ' Have you been ill since we saw you last night. f 1 Oh, no, 3 he answered, laughing, ' not ill ; a little ill at ease, perhaps. I i am not quite reconciled to things as yet, I suppose. But that is nothing. I Tell me, Maud, were you offended with i me V I ' Surely not — Arthur,' she replied, ; adding his name with the sweetest and | friendliest shyness imaginable. She ; continued, more soberly : 'Mr LonfI field, I think, didn't like it ; but I supj pose you don't mind that. Mamma ! said nothing at all. And, Mr Loring, j would you guess what he said V ' I should never guess.' ' He said it was just what he expected. There. And for my own part, Arthur, now that I know you, I should like to know you better ; it is so nice to have a cousin to talk to and go out with sometimes, and I have had nobody.' She said this so innocently and seriously, that Arthur Loring, conscious of his own thoughts, felt ashamed. 'Mamma and I lunch at half-past I,' she proceeded in the same way : ' and if you mean to call to-day, and can come about that hour, you might lunch with us.' : ' I shall be delighted, Maud.' • { And afterwards, would you — would you take me to see the Tower of: Lori}don on one of the poiiny steamboats V

The proposition was a little startling, but if the thing could be carried out he H would go with -her too gladly. - ... ■ ' Do yo)i know,' she continued, feeling relief for having got the expedition to the tower o.T her mind, „' I have of ten thonghtithat if 1 had a brother or— or a cousin,' with ever so faint a blush ab this point, 'I should like him to take me all over London, at least once • a week in tine weather, on the outside of an omnibus.' 'It would be jolly, I admit,', he assented, with considerable doubt as to whether, such pleasure was ever to be his. ' You have a capital view from the top of an omnibus ; and as only two can. sit on one chair'— an advantage to which he was not oblivious — ' you are never crushed. And if you take one of the front seats, you escape the tobaccosmoke, if there is any going.' Certain thoughts, suggested by the' con tiding ■ innocence of this charming girl, troubled the breast of Arthur Loring on his way back to breakfast. He feared it was not honorable to lay siege to the unsuspecting citadel of her heart. But the temptation was too great to be resisted, and once for all he defiantly flung to the winds every anxious forecast of the result. He should find it easy enough by-and-bye — if successful — to prove to himself that it was his duty to save her from the fate of becoming Long field's wife. 'It is mean,' he said, 'to have to resort to treachery in getting at her heart ; but if she suspected it now, she would be too alarmed to suffer me to go on. However, in the end it will be best for her, and she will forgive me.' Douhtless she would, supposing everything to turn out as he hoped. Arthur Loring did not fail to present himself at half-past 1, and he was received by Mt'S Loring with a stately courtesy that rather>chilled him. However, Maud made up for this ; and he was much surprised and puzzled by the absence of interest with which Mrs Loring appeared to regard the excursion to the Tower of London. She did not utter a syllable, in his hearing, either for or against a project the nature of which might certainly suggest some special observation. c Does your mamma care for your coming with me down the river ?' he asked Maud when she was buttoning her gloves in the hall before starting. The suppre-sed interest of his manner was different from that oi; the matter-of-fact reply : ' Mamma, is quite satisfied ; why shouldn't she V \ ' I don't know, though, what my uncle Henry would say.' 'Mr Loring knows all about it, | Arthur; I told him at breakr'act.' This was another surprise, 'for Maud's way of speaking left no doubt that she had her stepfather's sanction. Arthurwas n^xt half tempted to make a remark as to Mr Longfield's sentiments in relation to the matter when he should hear of it ; but he thought he had gone far enough. Carrying a warm shawl on his arm, in case it should be cold on the river, he took her out to Sloane street and hailed a hansom. When he had put her in and taken his scat beside her — paying the design of the vehicle a silent tribute of admiration — lie pulled the doors to. For a time Maud sat looking straight before her, saying nothing, until he asked what she was thinking of. ' I was thinking, Arthur, 3 she said, ' might we not come back on an omnibus? ' Certainly, Maud, if you wish,' he answered with alacrity. They were soon on the steamboat, churning down the river ; and the breeze was >,o cool and strong that he foresaw the keeping of the shawl round her pretty shoulders would demand his constant and close attention. There is no doubt that Arthur Loring made the most of his opportunities ! during the remainder of that week, and laid siege «to Maud Lavelle with an ardor that arose not from deliberate design, but from an intensity of love that was akin to worship. In the fire of this passion, fed Ivy daily intercourse which was free — -on her side — L'rom reserve as the companionship of a child, he forgot or refused to listen to the warning that had in the beginning startled his conscience. The week was all too short for love ; but when it came I to an end, it looked indeed to have been too long for prudence. Never missing a change in her sweet face, Arthur Loring was reproached by an expression of trouble that began to hover at times about the girl's eyes: The last day — the day before he was to commence his duties under Mr Longneld — thsy had gone for only a short walk in the park, and Maud was most of the time very silent. Once he asked what was the matter; but she quickly brightened up and said, 'Nothing at all !' This was not satisfactory ; and if her pensiveness were due merely to the termination of what might be likened to an enjoyable holiday, he knew her habitual frankness well enough to be sure that she would have said so. But she never referred to it at all, which was very strange. Two other explanations of her manner occurred to him, but he dared not mention either. She might be in fear of Mr Longfield on account of the liberty she had enjoyed those pasc few days, and no doubt she had earned the man's displeasure, and should experience it. Or it might be — Arthur Loring hardly ventured to form the wild hope — it might be that, if her choice were free,

she would not now -become Long field's ..wife. V 'Good-bye, Maud,' lie said that evening, after taking her home. ' I sup-. poseHhat is the right word now, for I go to work to-morrow, and heaven knows when L shall meet you again.' She did. not' raise her eyes, hut quickly answered, 'Good-bye, Arthur,' and ran up the stairs. lie was standing, looking after her in pained surprise,- when Mrs Loring came out of an adjoining l-oom. 'Where is Maud, Mr Loring? she asked. 'Gone up-stairs. I have just said good- bye to her.' Mrs Loring looked at him with her cold eyes, reflected a mom out, and then said : 'I believe you are going to the office to-morrow, and that we shall consequently not see you so much after • to-day. Gould you spare me a few minutes before you go V ' Certainly, Mrs Loring, 3 he answered ; and then he followed her to the back drawing-room with an uneasy feeling.' Mrs Loring sat down, and pointed to a chair 'facing her, and facing the light of a window as well. Loring did not fail to notice this, and the circumstance did not make him more comfortable. ' I suppose, Mr Loring,' she said, coming to the point with a directness that gave him a start, ' you are aware that my daughter is engaged to be married very soon to Mr Longneld '?' ' I have concluded as much,' ho answered, trying his utmost, with his face to that high window, to betray no discomposure. ' I am glad you have known it, Mr Loring. indeed, I think you ought to have been told ;. but then, it is a somewhat embarrassing thing to do all at once. But lam glad you have known it, for your own sake as well as my daughter's.' Thu was plain speaking, and Arthur Loring turned very red. ' I am very conscious, Mrs Loring, 3 he answered, with a visible eifort of suppression, ' that in my altered circumstances I should be a very ineligible suitor in any quarter, and I know that in this case I should be a mosb unacceptable one. May I therefore, request ) T ou to believe that, if I have lost everything else in the way of inheritance, I have not yet lost my pride V Mrs Loring's impassive face changed ever so slightly under this speech — it might have been from surprise, perhaps. But she made no answer in words, merely inclining her head in acquiescence; Then there was silence, and Loring rose. 'I presume, Mrs Loring, the situation is quite clear now, and I may take my leave 1 ? I must thank you for a few very pleasant days. Of course I need not say that in the walk of life on which I enter to-morrow all my old habits and relations of life come to an end.' ' I do not know that it need be so, Mr Loring. No doubt my husband will still recollect that you are his nephew, and you will not ceass to be a gentleman.' ' I hope not,' he answered, with a laugh ; ' but the character of a gentleman and the resources of a pound aweek — which I suppose will about represent Mr Longfield's estimate of my value — do not go well together. But Ido not complain ; lam quite ready and absolute to accept the fact.' ' I trust you do not mean all that — quite,' she remarked, with more courtesy than sincerity, as it certainly seemed to Arthur Loring. 'I do mean it, Mrs Loring,' he answered quickly, with the blood again in his face. 'I am too proud to go out of this house with a concealment. T love Maud with my whole heart, and I never again can enter this house for that reason. There. Ido not deceive you, nor have I dishonored myself. Your daughter has no suspicion of my secret, nor shall she ever know it from me. As a humble clerk in her husband's office, she will understand the imfitness of any further acquaintance with m p.' Mrs Loring was moved now, but the inscrutability of her face gave no index of the character of her emotion. Loring eared too little to give the matter a moment's thought. ' I expected it 'would happen,' she said. 'T do not know what my husband expected, or why he was so willing to throw you two together. It was a thing that was sure to happen.' ' I hope, then, you do not hold me to blame 1 I have been honest with you.' ' I know there will be sorrow out of this,' she said, without looking up from the carpet. — ' Good-bye, Mr Loring. 1 think you had better nofc come here again, even if your uncle invites you.' Arthur Loring swept out of the house looking savage. It is little to say that his blood was boiling. There were a hundred-and-one wild notions dancing through his head— -desperate schemes for blowing sky-high that infamous and heartless plot for the disposal of poor, innocent Maud Lavelle, whom he worshipped ; and it was \ at the same time maddening and sickening that every thought of the kind should receive its sudden death-blow fronr the despicable fact of .an empty purse. The iron went into his soul. It was no wonder he looked savage. As he went tearing along the pavement down Sloane street, his aspect

and impetuosity sent an exceedingly pretty maiden flying out of bis way before him. He could not avoid noticing her after a while, iind when he aaw her going along at .that pace, now and then glancing -back at him over her shapely little shoulder the idea struck him — did she fancy he was pursuing her to take her life 1 He had to stop and ' laugh, the** 'incitement was so irresistible ; and the curious thing was that the girl stopped too, regarded him doubtfully an instant, and then laughed likewise. It was altogether a comedy of the pavement. She waited for him while he approached, and for his life he could not think what it all meant. As there was no doubt that she was waiting for him, he halted when ho came up with her, looking into her very winsome pink-and-white face with considerable surprise and interest. ' Law, Mr Loring,' she. said, showing her pretty teeth in a laugh, ' never look as if you'd eat a body when a body wants to speak to you.' ' T'm not a cannibal, yet,' he. answered, join fog in the laugh ; c hut if I was, you would be a very dainty body to catch and — eat.' He recognised the girl now, though he had only casually seen her once or twice at his uncle's house. She was Maud's maid ; and of course Arthur became at once attentive and interested, and walked on with her. Equally of course he expected that the girl wanted to speak to him concerning her mistress, but to his great surprise he discovered presently that she had no such intention. She wanted to talk to hint about herself, and about herself, too, in the most interesting relation which a girl can have. After a good deal of blushing and giggling, he learned that Kilty — which wns her name — was privately j engaged to a young man, who vvas I pressing on the propriety of their j marrying without further delay. Interrogated as tr> the young man's name and prospects, Kitty confessed, shyly, I that his name was 'Jack' — Jack J Hornby, and that by profession he was a clerk. The name struck Loring as I one that he had heard before, but he i could not recollect where, until the girl gave him the uncomfortable information that Mr Hornby was a clerk in Mr Longfield's office, Kitty herself ' having obtained the desirable post for her lover through the friendship of her mistress. Arthur Loring roughly handled his adolescent moustache for a minute. Did Kitty know that her lover wns now under ' notice,' in order to make way for him, Mi* Arthur Loring 1 The thought was bitterly humiliating to him ; until it occurred to him that perhaps another arrangement might have been made at the Annuitants' office during the past week. (To he Continued.)