ON THE BRINK OF A CHASM.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 3294, 12 August 1911, Page 5

ON THE BRINK OF A CHASM.

[A RECORD OF PLOT AND PASSION.

(By L. T. Meade, author of “A Son

of Isbmael,” etc.)

CHAPTER XXII

A WARNING- FINGER

As Clara spoke she opened the door which divided the bedroom from tne little sitting-room and brought Sir Piers into the sitting-room. The child came forward with his usual manly grace. He flung back his handsome little head and stared into the eyes of the old lady. . N “My word! wliat a fine little fellow I” she cried. ‘Come and kiss .me, my little lad.” The boy held up his coral lips. “I like you,” he said softly. “Are you nurse’s mother?” “Yes, dear.” \ The old lady made room for Piers on her lap. “What a very wrinkled face you have,” he said. “No more wrinkles than I ought to have,” was the reply. “It’s becoming to have wrinkles when you’re turning a bit aged. It’s like the russet apple when it’s ripe—l’m ripe 3 and that’s why the. wrinkles is there.” “Ripe,” said little Piers. He touched the old cheek with his tiny finger. “I like you,” he said after a pause. “I’m glad I made that promise.” “What promise, little un ?” “Oh, something to Nurse Clara, but I mustn’t tell you. If I told you it would be breaking my word. Nurse, come here. I’m going to be a good boy, and I’m going to love your mother. If I love her and if I keep my word for a whole week may I go home?” “Perhaps,” said Nurse Clara. Mrs Ives fixed her shrewd eyes on her daughter. “There’s something at the back of all this,” thought the old lady to herself. “That boy is no ordinary patient. I’ll get to the bottom of it, or my name’s not Sarah Ives. It’s just like Clara; she was always one for mysteries.” “It’s a fine day,” said Mrs ivts, getting up as she spoke and going to the window. “No it isn’t, it rains,” said little Piers. “It did rain, but it’s fine now,” suppose I take you for a walk?” “Oh, yes,” said the child, clapping his hands. “But you rnusn’t walk to-day.” saitt Nurse Clara. “It’s part of the cure; the doctor wishes him to stay indoors,” she continued j turning to her mother. Little Piers frowned. “I’m ever so much better, and ibe air would do me good,” he said. “You might send for the ” Nurse Ives held up a warning finger. “You are not to go out,” she saia. “Mother, you are much too tired after your long journey to think of such a thing. lam going to leave you both now for a time, as I have got several things to buy. You look well after the child while I’m out, mother; you’ll he careful of him, won’t you.” “Careful!” said Mrs Ives, “when I’ve had six of my own, and bunea five of ’em You’re the only one left, Clara, and your freckles was always a worry. Ix ot understand how r to look after a child! I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course, mother, you’re splendid with children. Well I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Nurse Ives put on a smart hat—the hat was made of black lace —she covered her sandy locks and freckled face with a spotted veil, and, nodding to ner mother and the child, went. out. “She do look smart—quite the lady,” said the old woman, glancing at Piers as she spoke. Piers nodded. “She’s very and I love her,” he said. “Well, now, child l , it surprises me to hear you talk. I never would have said Clara was handsome, though she is my own darter ; but there’s no accounting for tastes. How close this room is I Now I’d like to go for a walk uncommon. Suppose you and me was to go out unbeknown to Clara?” “Might we?” said little Piers, his face coloring. “Might you? And what’s to hinder you if I say you may? We might go for a little stroll all by our two selves, mightn’t we?” “I’d love it 'better than anything,” said little Piers. “But perhaps nurse Clara ’ ’ “Nurse Clara needn’t know, you little silly. Go and fetch your cap and we’ll be off.” Little Piers looked puzzled for a moment ;then his face lit up and he ran eagerly into the bedroom. He soon came back. “I can’t find my cap,” he said. Mrs Ives accompanied him into Clara’s bedroom They searched high and low in vain. “What a pity!” she said. “And I thought I’d like a spell of the air. Well, you look here 3 little hoy, we will go out presently when Clara comes in.” “AnJ I could show you the house where I used to live; but oh, I forgot, I can’t —it would be telling my secret.” “So you have a seoret ) little un?” “Haven’t I just—such a big one!” “I wonder, now, if I could guess it,” said Mrs Ives in a thoughtful voice. Piers clapped his hands. “What fun if’ you did,” (he cried. “Nurse wouldn’t' mind if you guessed

it —that wouldn't be me telling.” “Of course it wouldn’t. . Well, now let me see; you are high born?” Piers uoded. “Good, good,” he exclaimed. “And rich?”’ “Good again,’’ said Peers. “If I was to see that house where you lived I could tell a lot more. Showing me the house isn’t letting out the sedi’ct/.” “Isn’t it? Perhaps not. I’d like to show you the house very much indeed.” t “But perhaps you have forgotten what; part of London it’s in?” “Not I —not I; it’s near Harley street, where that dreadful doctor lives —I hate that doctor, Mrs Ives. Oh, I know quite well how to get there, and, as you say, it wouldn’t be telling.” “Of course it wouldn’t; and it would be much nicer for you if I guessed your secret, for then we could talk it over together. I tell you what; let’s go out at once, without waiting for that cap of yours. We can buy a new one for sixpence at the first sliop we come across. They went. (To be Continued To-morrow.)