THE LOOMS OF DESTINY.

Lake County Press, Issue 1065, 21 May 1903, Page 6

THE LOOMS OF DESTINY.

COPYRIGHT.

\\\ .) MONK FOSTER. CHAPTER XXVII. •' |)K( i.1N1.1) WITH TUASKS." Ali his iife Mr. UeoUrey Blandford h;i I been in I In- habit of scoring sue.ess " o.i his hat," us lie phrased it. He had ! t en successful at .school, as a youth: Lad been SUC( essful al the mills and olticcs as » young man; had been not, less fortunate later, socially, as an admirer of ti.e fail sex: and later -still had commenced hi* public caicer witli a sweeping majority when he forced his way iuto the Town (Jouneil at Spindleford. Thai long series of piospeious undertakings, and liia own masterful idiosyncrasy, ill fitted our friend for temperately i oni! osiing himself when he had to ehroniele an unmistakable repulse, and most indisputable failure, such aa had marked his wooing of Doris Lonsdale. Geo they was almost beside himself with passionate mortification and wounded vanity, when the beautiful and honest-hear ted lassie Hung his ring at his feet and marched swiftly homeward, heedless of his cries. For onw he had been utterly wrong in his selfish reckoning. Knowing that Doris loved hira devotedly, feeling assured also of the magnetic attraction of his handsome personality, he had assumed that the rest would be easy. but. for once the self-satisfied and good-look ing rascal was to find that love —evt n ureal love—does not always so blind a woman as to make her reckless of those immediate jewels of her soul — her honour and pood name. That the knowledge rankled in his heart passes without saying. He had picked up the jewelled ring - a costlier trinket than the one Doris still wore in honourable memory of his lionet-t----er brother's devotion—had pockettd it with muttered objurgations, ana then had walk) d away, pouring all the venom of his tongue on the unknown correspondent whose warnings had so effectually checkmated his ainatorial designs. Even then Geoffrey did not resign all hope of ultimate success. In a few days the girl'b anger would vanish; love of him and fear of losing him entirely would drive her back to his arms, and a little later still he would be enabled to discover and punish the infernal spy who had con!rived to frighten Doris and spoil his own plans. So thinking of re-instated affection and forthcoming revenge the millownei's elder son salved his wounded feelings. Next day ho made it his business to stroll through the weaving-shed, intending to feast his eyes on the confused Doris. But to his surprise and delight lie found the fair weaver missing from her accustomed place. Daisy Uay was near and some strange woman had charge of Doris's looms. Geoflrey laughed in his sleeve then, tie understood the cause of the girl's absence. Last evening's quarrel had upset her so much that she had not been able or willing to come to her work; and from that fact he could only augur well for his own wishes. "When evening came round again Geoffrey was once more away from home. The Knowltona were giving another party; he was among the invited guests, and he went, resolved to carry iiis coquetting with the unhandsome Miss Gwendolen a step or two further. Again Doris might hear of it, and the knowledge that he was on the beat possible terms with a dame of great wealth, if not of highest degree, might teach the high-spirited lass a much-needed lesson. Consequently, about nine o'clock Geoffrey Blandford, Esq., T.U., found himself atTyldon Hall. The big, rambling old mansion was Hooded with light from roof to basement; an unusual crowd of people had already arrived to do henour to Miss Gwendolen's twentyfifth natal anniversary; the strains of a melodious string band were filling all the upper rooms and knots of blackrobed gentlemen and gorgeously attired ladies were to he met on all hands. Our friend was welcomed most warmly by Mr. and Mrs. Kncwkon; a minute later he was in the big rocrn where the dancing was proceeding, and almost immediately was shaking hands with the youngest daughter of the house in whose honour the feast was? being fjivi n. Miss Gwendolen Knowlton was certainly no beauty. She was tall for a woman, and her uncommon height was accentuated by her thinness. She was pale-faced, grey-.eyed, dun-haired; had features of the most commonplace type; whera one expected the soft giaciorjs contours of a damsel of fivc-and twenty there were only hard angles; yet she had u soft tongue and an apt one, and plenty of intelligence lurked beneath those grey, nnshowy eyes. " How many scores of returns of this happy day shall I wish you, Miss Gwen* dolen ?" (Jeollrey cried, his haudfome' dark fuci- hushed with pleasure as he stood beside the oilier atone corner of the room " A hundred if you like!'' " Say fifty, Mr. lilandford!" idle cried, good-humouredly. " That, will take me to seventy-live, you know." " Some women," he cried gallantly " cannot live too long. And 1 do know that some of your gcod friends, whose appearance on earth ante-dated your own, yet claim to be younger." " Flatterer!" she pouted. " Hut you know, Mr. Blandford, that I do not agree with many of my friends. They argue that birthday parties are quite a mistake." " Ah, I understand!" he laughed. "Because they give away one's age to all who have good memories. But you don't fear that. Why should you ? I declare, on my honour, that you look 0:1 nger this evening than you did when 1 first danced with you just lour years ago." " What a pity it is that some of you charming courtiers can only Matter us poor women at the expense of truth." ■' But, you are not dancing, Miss Gwendolen!" he cried, changing the BUbjec: adroitly. " How is that, prav '■ how Htnpid of me to come like a laggard when your programme i* filled!" i.-. ; l»e Jirst dam e. Mr. Bland ford and 1 promised nijself that 1

wouldn't '••••"i. until you OHrne." SI e Iruc!■< i-'ly in lii» face, adding, •• Y«.ii i l hat I hav»- saved a waltz or two, ..ii i if yoa cart? for old times' sake " •'A thousand thanks!'' lie whispered warmly, and lor an instant, his hold, ardont eycH challenged her own quiet grey ones, ere he lifted the dainty programme hanging at her waist by a silken ' ril, and scanned it. • There are two dunces—waltz.es—unappropriated, Miss Gwendolen. One is the very next, and the'other is the last before supper. Dare I Btcal them both ?" " He that dares not when he may " He flashed another warm look upon her half-smiling, enigmatical face, and then scribbled his initials in the vacant spaces. Then they continued their bantering conversation, seemingly understanding one another well, and quite clearly on the beat of terms. Oeoftrey knew everyone pr< sent, and he sharpened his wit on not a few who passed in the throng of dancers. Once his companion's sharp face clouded ominously at a satiric shaft shot at, a thick-set man of forty with a bin. leonine head and strongly marked face. But the expression of annoyance was gone iu an instant, and Ulandford never suspected that he had wounded the woman he meant to win that night. (ieoUrey and Gwendolen Know 1 ton danced together. They were both fine wait zero, and their height made them conspicuous. Every warm whisper dropped into her ear by him as they floated round the room to the dreamy sweetness of the music was met and responded to ill the old half-coquettish, half-bantering fashion. That she was fond of him an intimacy of several years had amply attested, and that he had only to asktoobtain he felt fully assured now. When the dance ended Geoffrey flung himself body and mind into the hilarity of the festal gathering. He danced with mofct of the prelt iest women in the house, hob-nobbed at intervals with the best and most companionable of the male guests, had a class of champagne with the master of Tyldon Hall himself, and in all ways felt satisfied with the world. Midway between eleven and twelve the cotton-master's eldest son claimed Miss Gwendolen for the last waltz before supper. He found her amiable as ever, and they footed it featly through the soft-swirling, melodiously-mazy measures of the dance. When it finished he did not leave her. The next item on the programme was a galop—which she detested, and desired to avoid. She had promised that item to some unimportant personage; and thanking the Fates for the opportunity vouchsafed him, Geoffrey led Miss Gwendolen to a balcony at one end of the great room, overlooking the gardens behind the Hall. " I am just wondering. Miss Gwendolen," he remarked softly, as tliey leant on the stone balustrade and peered into the quiet semi-darkness below, " how many more of your birthday parties 1 shali have the happiness to be at." " All the fifty you wore good enough to wish me, Mr. Blandford, I hope," she answered, warmly. "Of course. But it wasn't quite that I was meaning, i was wondering how many more, as Miss Gwendolen Knowlton." " Who can say ! But perhaps net many." slut exclaimed, lightly laughing. " My face is not my fortune, you know, and our lords and masters—the mere men—run aftei beauty's daughters now as ever." "That is not true of all men, Miss Gwendolen ! " he cried, forcing a soitly passionate ring into his tones, " Of all I know then," she answered lowly. •' No ! Not oven that ; for yo'j know me have known' me ever so long and well now ! " " And I am to believe, Mr. Blandford, that you—the handsomest of men—do not pin your faith to the most beautiful of women ? " " Certainly not ! Whatever made you think so? What is this beauty but a mere veneer of flesh ? There are other gifts 1 prize more. And too often the possession of beauty by a woman is frequently marked by the lack of other and higher graces. You, Gwendolen, have rarer gifts than mere charm of face !" " What flatterers you handsome men are ! " she whispered, looking into his eyes for a moment across her fan. "That is the honest truth, Gwendolen!" he urged with low vehemence. '• J have wishrd. a thousand times, that I might speak out plainly to you. May 1 do bo now ?" •' But we have always been so frank with one another," she remarked with a Binile. " What can you wish to tell me now that J have net already heard a hundred times ?"' " .Much!" and their eyes met again. " I want to speak now of all that is n< are«t my heart—of all J think anrJ hope and dare wish where you are concerned Gwendolen. May I -dare J - will you let me speak now ?"' " Hush! Not now! See, they are all trooping away to supper. Tell me afterwards—when '. give you another dance." He led her back to the ballroom, and there she glided swiftly away to her relatives, hater Geoffrey found himself enjoying hj recherche repast, with a handsome woman on either hand. Later still the guests were all standing, and the master of Tyldon Hall was proposing a toast. " Ladies and Gentlemen," he began somewhat pompously, " 1 have a very pleasant duty to perform. 1 have to ask you U) join me in wishing my dear daughter Gwendolen many happy returns of the day; and with that toast I wish to couple the name of our good friend, Mr. Matthew White BroomUeld, her future husband." The toast was drunk heartily by all, save one, in (lowing goblets of champagne. That, one was Geollrey Blandford. He was erect like the rest, and he emptied bin glass as Ihe others did. But instead of hearty words on his lips there were deep unspoken curses burning in bin heart. The last hentenee utleied by I he loaslgiver bud turned him white to the lips. A moment before it, bad boon uttered be was considering Ids own chances of winning Gwendolen Knowlton, and the next instant he remembered the jibe he had whispered in Gwendolen's cur respecting that stroir.!-fared, lion-headed man now sitting at hi r elbow. What an ass he ha«l been! How adroitly that, plainfaced woman had foiled him! Geoffrey did not claim that other dance Miss Gwendolen had promised after supper. As quickly as was convenient he took his departure; and slouched homeward in high dudgeon with himself and the world. To-morrow, perhaps, in a few days at the longest, the intelligence of Miss Kn<: wllon's engagement to Mr. Broomlield would be scattered all over the town, and then even Doris Lonsdale would know bow grossly he had lied to suit his own schemes.