ALL OR NOTHING.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 592, 9 August 1913, Page 6

ALL OR NOTHING.

(Copyright.)

A THRILLING ROMANCE,

By the Author o? "A Bitter Bondage/' "Two Keys," "Stella," "The L'aUnown Bridegroom," &c.,

rAirr 2:3. "If ever any woman did make love to a man," thought Leonard. " the fair bankeress is making it to me." Siie entered the conservatory then fragrant, silent, full of the sweet breath of flowers. "I cannot tell you the names of on2 half of these plants," said Alice: "would you like to see the head gar dt ner ?" Leonard detected in her question, or, rather, in the tone of her voice, evident anxiety that he should say "No." He did bo. "I would rather learn less, Miss !.iy■ :.-n,'' he said, "and take my ;. on from you." ;.'o that her future prospects in London were for a time forgotten. She walked slowly round amongst those exquisite, fragile, fragrant bl:s*oms —"the smiles of angels," as Dr. Afnsleigli had called them —tell-;n-f him in a hard tone of voice 'he Latin name of each. "What is this lovely flower ?" ask- ' d Leonard —"a silver bell, with a T iden heart, with a sweet, subtle 1 fume.' - ' "I forget," she said, carelessly ; .hll? Leonard hung enamoured over "Apropos of flowers" began Leort -.l'd. But she interrupted him. " Flowers are very well. But the dea :.f a man or woman sighing over them and quoting poetry about them s simply absurd." "I am sorry you should think me 1' s-.i.rd, M's.i Leyton," said Leonard, ui-i iy. '1 meant the idea—not you," she io'.'t'.'d. ' Yo*l c iv not separate a man from i'.l :r," said Leonard, with a m'le. "The two must always he '.vi_e or fooii.li together." it struck Alice that they were on the Mr;;e of a quarrel. Here she .7. s exciiu-itoly dressed (the pale ' ink silk, the black lace and pearls, ! o'- superb in the mellow light of to conservatory). She had the .0 ii ; doctor all to herself —no fairfaced rivalj to interfere. She had impressed him with her father's ■ve .Kh, her own importance, and the aural grandeur of everything belonging to them, and now all was to ' e undone by a quarrel. That must lot 'e. She looked up at him with a sudden smile, and held out her hand--a very pretty hand it was, with soft, pink-tipped fiflgers and a rosy palm. '"We must not quarrel," site said — "you and I. Let ai be friends. I

cannot promise to change my tastes, and go into raptures over poetry and flowers ; but I will look more kindly on them because you love them.

What could he do, save take the hand she held out to him ? And Alice was in no hurry to withdraw it. He could not well relinquish it, so they stood hand in hand amongst the flowers ; and Leonard found himself in a very false position. He was uncomfortable. He had not come there with the least intention of making love to Miss Leyton, although he had heard what Lady Maekin said about the efficacy of such a plan. As he looked at her, the shrewd, unlovely face, the keen eyes, never blind to a fault, struck him with something akin to dislike. He pictured to himself the dark-eyed girl, with a mouth like a rose, with whom he had talked in the summer woods yesternight. Sweet, bright Mabel ; a flower herself, with a voice clear and tuneful as a songbird's. He remembered how her face flushed and her dark eyes

grew brighter when he quoted Woolner's words to her —his bright, beautiful "Lady of the sunlit hair." So bright, so graceful, so full of happy fancies and sweet imaginings.

For ;t long time Alice's hand lay in his—held by a negligent pressure ; not in a passionate clasp, as he had hell Mabel's hand while he kissed her sweet face. It struck Alice suddenly that he was responding very slowly to her advances.

" Yes," she said, thoughtfully, "your opinions, your ideas, would always influence me—more so than any other person. For, without the least wish to Hatter you, I may say that I have seen no one whose ideas please me so much as your own." "A very fair opening," thought Alice, "if he likes to use it." But Dr. Leonard Ainsleigh was sincerely obtuse. "I am delighted that I have pleased you." he said, with careless gallantry. "I shall value my own ideas more highly for the future that they have pleased so fastidious a lady." He gave her hand the least possible pressure, and dropped it. He could not stand there so awkward, so uncomfortable, so constrained, any longer. There must have been some native honesty in Leonard Ainsleigh. He knew that he could have this girl, who loved and pursued him, with all her fortune, by simply asking her to be his wife ; but he would not, because he loved Mabel more. Alice would not give up. Surely, if from her high estate she stooped to endow this young doctor with all her possessions—surely he could not but be grateful, and accept them. It was very probable that he felt the great disparity between them, and would require encouragement, which idea made Alice kinder than ever. Dr. Ainsleigh turned to leave the conservatory, with a few words of thanks for her effort. Alice took his

the same about said, gently : "but that is no reason that we should not be friends." " You are too good, too kind," he said ; but even with the remembrance of the silver dinner-service, the exquisite wines, the eighty thousand pounds, all strong upon him, he could not infuse any great amount of cordiality into his voice.

"We. will go back to the drawingroom," said Alice, "and 1 will sing for you. lam sare you love music." "1. do," he replied, quietly, remembering whose singing seemed sweet and clear to him as that of the angels in heaven. It had grown darker, ana the purple shadows fell around the tree-. The air was very calm and still : the fragrant gloaming seemed, to clo<e round them. Alice was bent upon one more effort. She turned i.. Leo nard, and held out both hands to him. "We are friends for the future," she said, gently—"for all time." '"Yes," he replied. "we will be friends." But there was no warmth in his tone. Then they went into the drawingroom. The banker was still asleep; Mrs. Welford sat looking at some photographs. "I am afraid," said Alice, coquettishly, "that you have thought us long absent." "You look as though the fresh air had done you good," said the lawyer's wife. "Miss Leyton has more colour than I have ever seen in her face before. Bo you not think so, Dr. Ainsleigh ?" He looked at her more attentively than he had done that day before. She was unusually pretty ; there was a soft colour in her face—a more pleasant light in her eyes. "Now I will sing to you," she said, gaily, "any song you like best." Nothing could exceed her kindness, her attention, and it was a temptation. He had but to say one word, and he would be master of two hundred thousand pounds, with all the world at his feet. He would have said it but for the memory of Mabel's face.

"A very successful evening, my love," said Mrs. Welford, after Leonard had gone.

"Pretty well," replied Alice. "Life is full of battles, I suppose ; I have one to fight now." As she returned home Mrs. Welford asked herself the question which was vexing all Carsbrook : "Which of the two giris will Leonard Ainsleigh marry, after all ?" CHAPTER XXXIX. All Carsbrook was in a state of excitement and agitation. Mrs. Welford, who had just settled herself for a morning's work amongst her laces, hastily threw them aside, and quickly arrayed herself in a dress of lilac silk and sat down with a book in her hands, as though she were accustomed to sit reading every moment of her life. Miss Lewis was intending to give the morning to the superintendance of apricot jam. She left the jam to its fate, and remained in solitary state in the drawing-room. Mrs. Elderly had resolved upon rearranging the storeroom ; but she called her maid to lay her black moire-antique dress ready, and see that the drawingroom was dusted. Even the banker, whose chief interest lay in his ledgers, looked up from his window, then smiled as he remembered how careful Alice was to be always ready for visitors. What was the cause of the commotion ? The Creednioor carriage, containing Lady Maekin. her young son, Clive, and Sir Edward Peckham, a visitor at the Hall had driven through the streets, and every one was on the qui vive. Each one hoped Lady Maekin was out for the purpose of calling on her, but the carriage never stopped until it reached Beechgrove. Lady Maekin alighted, and entered the house, holding her little boy's hand, followed by Sir Edward, whose handsome face was strangely pale. He diil not look like one who would lose the colour of his face for a trifle. Sir Edward was a very handsome man ; tall, with a well-built, manly figure ; erect, dignified, and stately, yet with a certain ease that sat well upon him ; bonny broad shoulders, a broad chest, strong, white hands, dark eyes, with straight, dark brows, a beautiful mouth, with lips as sensitive as those of a woman, a dark moustache, and a well-shaped noble head, over which, the dark hair clustered in short, thick waves. There was this charm about, him. too—his face looked good : women loved him instinctively. children trusted him ; he was, perhaps, rather inclined to be proud, and he had all the prejudices of his caste, but his disposition was very beautiful, u't'ii erous, lofty, amiable, and self-sacri-ficing. He was talented, too. this voiine man on whom so many licit blessings had fallen. He was a quick, clever speaker ; his speeches win read with great interest, and he bad great, artistic taste. He drew and painted well, he had an easy ih>\\ of words, that often rose to eh. quence, and was never commonplace. Add to that a grace of manner thai charmed every one. and it will In seen that, Sir Edward was one worthy of the love of women and the friendship of men. Vie had. been much in society, and held a deservedly high place there. I low w,-.s it he who had "dined with princes," and had mixed daily in lis best, society in England, looked, pale and nervous on entering for the first time the pretty little domain oi Beechgrove ?" Mrs. Morton was at home ," sain the neat little maid, and Lady Maekin was ushered into the charmim: room that, had astonished Leonard so greatly. Mrs. Morton was there. '■''■ diftll. dignified, and gt ■acefnl a.s»Vtir,.

Lady Mackiu, with all her eonrt ly manner, looked insk:niii<-unt beside hei.

"1 have d. uiuk< !.ian> apologies, Mrs. Morion." said her ladyship. "I must pray you uot 'm think me rude or intrusive-I know yiiui- rule of never admit i ing strangers ; hut. Sir Edward I'i-ckhu.iu hesnught me s,e urgently in brim: him to see you, 1 did not i;now hoff to reiuse him." Sir Edward ni.iY he. pa I'do'.ed j[ he looked l'ol' a 10V miliu'. c-; at this queenly wnman. imi much asloiiished for words. Who was she? Wlr..t did the :,adm-ss on that dark, passionate, eioqueni lace mean? Hew luminous ami beautiful was Hit smile thai soitened the dark eyet —so like Mabel's—and seemed to play round the perfect lips ! '••] have nothing to forgive. Lady .Maekin." said .Mrs. Morton, with ihe :_ r nuv of :t queen : "all rules 'nave except ions. Sir Edward Beckham shall be an exception to mine." In ;t few courteous words Lady Maekin introduced the two who were never to lose sight of each other again. Mrs. Morton welcomed the young baronet warmly. She was charmed, as most women were at first sight, by the beauty of his face, and its good, frank, true expression. Even while she addressed him she was wondering what motive he could possibly have in wishing to see her. She soon discovered it, for he looked round the beautiful artistic room as though in search of something, and that something she at once guessed to he Mabel. Then Mrs. Morton noticed the pretty, flaxen-haired child standing by Lady Mackin's side. She who loved children as she loved birds and flowers, bent down to speak to him. Sir Edward Peckham thought he had never seen such a lovely picture as the dark, passionate, noble beauty of the lady and the fair loveliness of the child. "What is your name, dear ?" she said to the boy, in that rich, clear voice. " Olive," he replied Maekin." And they saw the noble face turn white as death, while for one moment a spasm of pain seemed to pass over her. "Olive," she repeated, and her voice seemed to linger over the word with unfathomable sadness and unutterable pathos. Then she did what with her was rare—bent down and kissed the iittle upturned face. '"God bless you, Olive," she said, "'and make you a good man." Throughout her interview she retained her hold of the child's hand. The same thought struck both visitors—that she had loved some one named Olive who was dead. "Shall we have the pleasure of seeing Miss Morton this evening ?" said 1 Lady Maekin; at last, iu answer to the pleading of Sir Edward's eyes. The words had barely left her lips when the door opened, and Mabel entered, all unconscious that visitors were present. Even Lady Maekin felt her heart stirred, and her pulse quickened at the sight of that fresh pure young beauty. Mabel wore a white morning dress, daintily trimmed with blue ribbons and lace. The golden hair fell in rippling masses on her shoulders ; her eyes wepe bright as stars with the clear morning air ; her face blooming and fresh, and fair as a rosebud steeped in dew. She had been gardening, and had returned to Mrs. Morton's presence with her hands full of flowers.

"You look like the goddess Flora, Miss Morton," said Lady Maekin, with a kindly smile. "What a pity it is youth ever fades !" Mabel laid down her flowers, then went up to greet her visitors. There was no mauvaise-hinte, no awkwardness, no self-consciousness about her. She was perfectly natural, perfectly graceful. She replied to Lady Mackin's questions with smiling grace and ease ; then when she turned to greet Sir Edward Peckham, she smiled in his face.

"I did not think you were speaking seriously," she said, "when you said you should find your way to Beechgrove."

"Did you not? I should have found my way, Miss Morton, had Beechgrove been in the midst of a jungle,, or a desert, or a wilderness." "It is fortunate, then, that it stands in an open plain," she replied, laughingly. Mrs. Morton looked earnestly at Sir Edward Peckham ; there was something, she could not tell what, that looked familiar in his face. Surely those lips had smiied .-it hei' before. She had seen those straight brows and clustering hair ; she noticed him when Mabel entered the room. His face flushed crimson, his eyes flashed, his lips trembled. If ever sudden passionate love arid v. orship leaped into a man's face, it flashed in his when he caught sight of her, Evelyn Morton, simply lookin:: nil. had the story its though he had inhl it in her word: for word - ' : mi- Run atd I'eckhain loved Milked. I'll,-ii : in- looked iii her daughter. Mabel : miled .p.nie frankly in his lace ; lie 1 all.ed I o him ; she la 'ighed wiih.ai; in- !c.-,t embarrassment. There «., mum ~t that blushing, charmm-'. .-h\ ness that had seemed to master her when Leonard Ainsleigh was near They I a Iked about Carsbrook ; ami whit I ever Mi.he! mighi think. -Mrs. Morton w.-m delighted v.ilh :-'ir Edward. 1 1 v its ion:: :-mee :he had spoken io any one >o clever. : ,. talented. -:.> gifted with ii-nial humour. Lady Maekin. who si; in >ue h ah-- saw Mrs. Morton seldom, iiked h< r extremely, and felt at home ui(li her, as she did with \\v other lauy in Carsbrook ; and her ladysltin. feeiias quite iii Case, showed a keen and lively appreciation of the peculiarities of the iitth iiliio'." i'lV i a Con; :n. o'O