A GAME OF CHANCE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXIV, Issue 8020, 6 August 1887, Page 3 (Supplement)

A GAME OF CHANCE.

BY ELL& J. CURTIS ("aiIIRLKY smith";, Aatbor of " Tlio Favourite of Fortune," "All for llursolf," "His Last Stake," &c, <sjc. ' CHAPTER LII. MRS. JOHN' GOES INTO XUPTDRES. The day of Mm. John Erekine'a long looked for arrival was not very agreeably spent by the inmates of tho Chase, and yet it we* impoesiblo for anyone, excopt a most captious critic, to fiud fault with her. Miso Lainbton and Lctty could not bo called captious critics, and even when they were alonetogether they carefully avoided comparing notes about her ; indeed, s.> marked vvaa tho avoidance of the subject that it could not be put down to accident.

And i$ was r.os tiint there v/aa any want of svreutuess aud graciousness, and an apparent dcaire to be well pleased with overything, in tho new-comer ; hut; with tho uweutnoss and graciousnosa and thu desiro to be pleased, there was " a aomettiing " —that ;viis how Lctty put it to herself ; whilo Mlbj Lamb Con, who waa never very severe upon anyoue, mentally compared her nephews beautiful widow to a cat with her pawa ahoathed ! tSir Joi'n, who saw no ilawa iu ht3 uew toy, took her himself, ia tho pride of ilia heart, to see tho rooms he had prepared for hor, 1 as well aa tho nurseries for hio grandson ; Miss Lambton aud Ldtty went also, and formed, aa it were, the tall of tho little procession. Mrs. John tell r.fc onco into raptures ! "It was 00 kind of you, dearest Sir John, to tako ao much trouble : everything ia charming 1 I am dolighted with it all; but if I had only known that you were going to give mo ouch h dear little suite all to myself (it is eo nice to have it) I think I should have Haid, 'do not furnish until I come,' aa then I could have had a voice (only a voice, you know ; my darling husband always allowed me to have ■jk voice) in tho arrangement. For instance, I h:«.d set my heart upon a dado, and they havo not put one. I had a sweet dado at Sorrento ! really I got quite attached to it. Of course, thia paper is quits lovely, and it; dooan't matter about the dado; not in tho very least; but as it waa being dona in tho new, you know—ah, yea ! Chose pretty Indian things, Ah you say, they are very handsome aud rich looking, and I would not bo without them for the world, but every day at Sorrento I usod to say, * What a treat not to seo anything Indian! You can understand that one gets just a little tired of them—cau't you, Sir John ?" "Ju.it what I Raid whon papa ordered them," whispered Letty to her aunt. "My dear child," said Sir John, €, you must turn them all out, and get Bomefchini» you like better. I want to n»ako you feel at home, don't you see? You must any what you would like instead of all theso rugs and things, and there ia no reason why wo should not have a dado."

" Oh, dear no ! Pray do not think of it. A dado with that paper would never do I I must bo satisfied, and I really don't mind about the Indian things ; only, you can fancy that, just at present, thoy bring back past happy days too vividly! But I shall got used to them, and to—everything. Tho room is roally very pretty ; a ahado heavy looking porhaps, but that may be only because everything wa/i so light and bright at Sorrento ! And this is my bedroom ? Very pretty ! vory pretty indeed ! lam charmed 1 But why, dearest Sir Johu, did not you just write and say, ' Amy, which do you like best, pink or blue? J liavo quito a morbid and ridiculous dislike to pink. I think I must ask to havo everything blue."

"Of couro", iuy dear girl. Of coarse; anything you like. I wish I. had thought of asking you ; hut someone said, Letty Ituiuk, that you would bo sure to like pink." "It was very sweet of her to decide for me," and Mrs. John gave Letty a smile. " And nothing can bo prettier than pink. Everything was blue at Sorrento ! The sky and the nea, and rny bedroom furniture ! Quite|en suite, ai that horrid creature Eossitur used to say. She was very proud of the little bitu of French aud Italian eho had picked up ! And now for the nurseries ! I am rather sorry they open out of my room, do you know? but, of course, I can lock myself in, I had the nuraerioa at Sorrento as far r.way from my bedroom as possible. Morning sleep is essential to me, aud I am afraid I must ask for a double door to shut out Master Jacky'e noise! I always had a delicious morning sleep at Sorrento. A doublo door will not bo very troubioaomo, will it, dear Sir John ?"

" Troublsesome ! Not at all! and what if it wore ? You must havo what you like. Thla is tho night nuraery," opening a door. "Any improvement you can suggest here?" " No ; this seems all There is only one thing that I must mention. My precious child must have his head to tho north, and with tho cot that way it will bo to tho south. And I am afraid I must ask you to have my bed turned, too ; I like to feel that I havo got the magnotic current all right. I always slept with my head to tho north at Sorrento ; and it makes the greatest difference in my dreams ? You have all got your heads to the north, I hope." "I novor know whether I am north, south, eaet, or west," cried Sir John. "But you must have what you like, my dear."

*Tho Proprietors of the New Zkaland Herald havo purchased the sole right to yuWisU tliis story iD

I They were back in Mrs John's bedroom by that time. "Let's aee ; which is the north ?" ho added, turning round and round. " I'm hanged if I know." With some difficulty the north was found, but tho desired aspect proved a very inconveuieut position for tho bed, and it was finally arranged that it should stand in the middle of tho room acaording to the Indian faehion. "How I shall misa my oosy little nest at Sorrento," was the laat thing Letty heard as they all went downstairs ayain. Aunt Louise had taken groat pains in the ordering of Mra % . John's first dinner at the Chase, and the "cook had taken great pains in the dressing of it; but, somehow, it tailed to hit the lady's fancy. She could not touch thin soup, and " salmon cutlets always made hsr ill 1" but, although she had some objeefciyn to make to every dish, she contrived to make a very hearty meal. In tho drawingrootn afterwards she stretched horself on a couch, saying that she always laid down for half an hour after dinner at Sorrento ; but sho did not go to sleep, as Miss Latnbton fondly hoped she would do ; she talked incessantly, and tho first subject she startod wa3 tho estrangement butween Herbert Otway and Letty. "1 really must try what I can do," she said. "Has any ono tried seriously to bring you together ?" ♦' Ido not wish to discuss the matter, Amy, if you please," Letty rejoined. "No one talks of it here, and I do not see why you should begin." " But I mean to take it up very seriously and as a matter of duty," said Airs. John. "I am quite sure it only require a littlo judicious management; and that it is not likely to get from anyouo but mysself. Ido hopo ho will not take it into his head to fall in love with me ! It would be very awkward, and I havo the oddest fancy that he will, you know. There was such a fuuuy littlo mau at Sorrento who was quite wild about me! Ho used to loave flowers at the villa. Was it not romantic ? I am nob sure that he did not go to Vico and drown himself! A man did commit suicide thoro ono day." " Wo must not lot anything so dreadful happsn to Mr. Otway," said Letty, composedly, but aho felt fur from tranquil inwardly. " Kather than run euch a risk for him, I should bo tempted to come to tho resouo myself 1" " Oh ! can anyone tell mo if Walter Duncombe has oomo to tho Hermitage?" Mrs. John changod tho subject quickly. " You know he was in Jack's regiment. Hβ got the property, we heard, on tho death of his undo ; but have you seen anything of him ?" " We have not seen him," Lotty auswered. "I know papa called when he came homo ; and he left a card ; but ho has been away ail the winter," "Ho is expected homo this week," said Miss Lambtou. "So Dr. Murray told mo yesterday." " 1 muat ask dear Sir John to call again ; not tiiat he was a very intimate friend; 1 had many more intimate in India ; but still it would be pleaaant to see ouo of the regimtmt again." "Jack did not like him I think, did ho?" aekcrt Letty. "Well, he did, and ho didn't," Mrs. John answered. "He did not like tho way he made lovo to Rossitur ; but I cannot help thinking that, if my poor darling had not interfered, Walter Duueombe would have married her. Sho got hereolf talked about a little, and her marriape with Pottinger was almost but broken off; then Jack said ho would not have any playing of fast and looso, and inaJe her marry ; I do not think she ever forgave him, for, of course, she wanted to marry the gentleman. I wonder what has besomo of her? 1 cannot help thinking that sho must have aeon Walter Duueombe, or hoard ot him, in Italy, and that sho will turn up in this neighbourhood before long. I always eaid he was foud of her, aud she used to get greiit influence over people." " fiavo you a photograph of her J" Letty asked.

" No ; but eho is really not at all unlike me," atui Mrs. John laughed affectedly. "It used to make poor dear Jack so savage whon anyone said it; but if you dreaacd her up iu my clothes you would take hor for me. Horrid creature ! I havo lost all interest in her, aho treated mo so badly ; but 1 should like to know where sho is. You mentioned someone called Murray juat now, Aunt Louise. Is he your family doctor?" " Oh, no 1 He is our Rector. A Doctor of Divinity, and one of our greatest friends. Mrs. Murray 13 snro to bo hore to-morrow to call upon you. Has Letty told you about the child she found and brought home ?'' "That Mrs. Murray fouud ? What an odd thing to fiud a child! YvHaat sort of child»" "A dear little boy of about two years old. His mother deaerted him at Victoria Statiors, and—what is tho matter, dear 2 Aro you not comfortable?" " Quito, thanks, Auntie dear. Only thoro is a dreadful pin pricking ine, and it made mo start. <Jo on, please. Tie was found at Victoria Station by Mrs. Murray, did you eay ?" " Yoa ; she found him in tho waitingroom, and they waro going to send the poor little mite to the workhouse, when Mary, that is Mr 3. Murray, said sho would tako him homo, and so she did."

" And the mother has never come forward to claim him," Letty added. "And Mrs. Murray has gob him now? How very good of her to tike iu a stray chiid. Letty, my love, J must aek you to look for this vrrotchod pin. It !ia3 put mo into a fever ? 1 ata afraid my new maid is not very expert." Letty began to search among Mrs. John's frills and laoeo, and presently found the offimding pin. "Thanks so much, dear." She lay silent and still for about five minutes after that; then sho suddenly raised hcraelf to a sitting posture, and said, as sho arranged the curls on her forehead, " Do you know I cannot help thinking that the unnatural mother was Hoaeitur, and that your friend has brought homo little Georgy i*ottin«er." "liut you will recognise him !" cried Letty and her aunt in a breath. "Oh, dear, no! I scarcely ever saw the child; not even at Sorrento !" answered Mrs. John, as she throw herself back on tuo couch again. CHAPTER LIII. lktty'.s troubles. Well, my dear, it seems a long timo since you paid mo a visit," said little Miss Maeham, aa she ran to meat and welcome Letty, who unexpectedly appeared just beforo luncheon. Have you come to spend the day with mo? That is good of you! It is ages since wo had a gossip." "I am afraid I am getting lazy," Letty answered. "Every clay for tho last week I have said, 'J am going to lunch at the Rosary.' Aa yot I nover appear, as you know."

"You cannot tear yoursolf away from tho faaa'nating Mrs. John, that ia tho truth!" h;i Miss Masham, with a comical look. "Let me seen—how long ia it since sho came?'

"Exactly a month," replied Letty, "and it sc.cvi to mo like yeai'o ! Never since I can remember have the days seemed so long ! And yet Ido nothing , I have no timo to read; at least I do not read, and I never touch the piano. I never settle down comfortably to anything ! I seom to myself to be in a state of constant irritation !"

"My poor dear child! You look rather worried. Do you not get on well with her '!" " Oh. yes ; I get on well onough, because I vowed I would not quarrel, for it would vex papa! But it is hard," and tears camo into the speaker's oyes, "to see him bo absorbed by that woman! He does not seem to

remember my existence at timo3 ; and I get so depressed and lonoly, and I am afraid rather ill-tcmpored, too, now and then." " She certainly has contrived to make herself indispensable to • dearest Sir John,' " laughed Mias Maaham. "Indispensable ! I should think so !" cried Letty. " He is porfectly bewitched by her ! I could not have believed it if I had not seen it, I never ventured in my most spoiled and petted days to say and do the things one says and dcc 3 with impunity. You know Joan, that housemaid, who has been at the Chase for so long ? For some reason or other, Amy took a dislike to her, and papa told the housekeeper yesterday to give her warning. Aunt Louise and I are so sorry. And yon know, ehe said that Jacky's nurse wa3 to act as her rr\ald. But not a bit of it; she borrows Aunt Louise's so often that poor auntie has, 1 may say, given her up altogether. 1 mean to speak about that; I do not think papa would allow it if he knew." Don't you wish she would get tired of the Chase, and go away ?" " Oh, she will not do that! Sho has got papa to alter her rooms according to her taste, and very bad*tasfce it is in my opinion ; but, perhaps, I am prejudiced. The poor dear man has gone to such trouble and expense about ! it all; bus up oae is allowed to fuue»k AboutJ

that, and the way she wheedles thinge out of him is too barefaced."

" Wβ must remember that she is your brother's widow and a very pretty woman besides." "Yea; she is Jack's widow certainly ; but, as to the prettinoss, it ia a matter of opinion, like her taste. Ido not admire her. She has what I call a cruel face !" " Perhaps so ; but it is very handsome. Her eyes are beautiful." "You should see the way they glitter sometimes when Auntie makes a remark she doea not like. Ido not care about her veiled insolence to mo, but I cannot bear it for Aunt LouiGo. Do you know she has taken Auntie's place at the head of the table ? I cannot forgive papa for allowing such a slight to be put on her. And he shows Amy all his letters, and consults her upon business matters. Every morning after breakfast (she never comoa down, you know) he gooa up to her room for an hour, and talk 3 to her about the moat private family affairs." " Does she never appear at breakfast?" " Never. ' I always epeut the morning in my room at Sorrento. , How tired lam of Sorrento, and what ehe did there." " And about the child ? Ia ehe fond of him ?" " Not particularly, I think. She pst3 and fondles him beioro papa, but I have seen her slapping him until lie screamed. The other day I happened to go into the day nureery, and there she was, looking like a fury, and threatening to whip the poor little for having broken some trumpery toy she bought for him in the town. She did not look pretty then, I assure you. The poor little mite held out his arms and ran to mo, and that made her more angry still." " What did she do !" "Oil! nho carried him off into the night nursery, and I suppose she punished him there, for 1 heard him crying piteouely as I went downstairs. She ia a heartless, soltish creature." " Did you tell your father ? Ho would not like poor little jacky to be flogged, I sm sure." "Yes; I told him; but he said he was euro Amy could be trusted to do what was right by her own child ; that he hud perfect confidence in her judgment; eo there I left it." "Do you know you aro looking ill and worried, Letfcy. You will lose your good looks, child, it you do not take care, and then what will—people say?" " No oae cares very much how I look," eaid Letty, sadly. " Ob, Mias Masham, if I had uot been a vain fool what a happy home I might have had new with my husband, for he did caro for me when wo married." " And he probably cares still." "Oh, no? Not still, " Letty repeated. " There is eome one ho likes batter. Not that I want him to cara for mo," she added. "Do not imagine that; but, ot course, I cannot help seeing bow foolish I was to behavo r.3 I did, and a man liko Mr. Otway is not likely to forget or forgive such conduct. I used to think he had no spirit, but I found out my mistake." " And you liko him all the better for it J" put in Mrs. Masham. "There is no question of liking between Uβ," answered Letty, decidedly. " But Ido want to find out what is best for his happiness, Hβ may want to marry some other woman." " Then the best thing you can do is to ask him, my dear." " Not for the world 1" cried Letfcy, " Let him speak." "I have no doubt he will in time/' said Miss Masham. " 15ut I confess he is longer making up his mind than 1 expected. By the way, your aunt told mo ho was coming down to be introduced to Mrs. John. Is that so?" " Yes, early next week ; and you have no idea how much I drosd seeing him before her J She threatens to make lovo to him herself, to force us, or ridiculo us into reconciliation, so you may imagine what I ehall have to go through 1 And she can say such ill-bred things when she is not on her guard. She never lets papa hear them, but she is le3s particular before Auntie and me. She called that poor little child such an ugly name the other day, and when I said, ' why do you eay that, Amy ?' she said, ' Oh, for fun, of course.' I was dreadfully shocked !" "That remiud3 mo (1 always forget to aak), she ha 3 seen Mrs. Murray's foundling, 1 suppose. Has she recognised him as Kossitur'B child ?" "No, she says she cannot be certain ; but I cannot help thinking that he recognised her. Ho stretched out his anna to her the moment he eav/ her, aud said 'Gib Daoky ;' but Mary Murray declares he says it to everyone ! It is rather odd, too, when- he sees the sjardoncr he calls out, ' Pot, Dacky go to Pot!' They make quito a big joke of his 'going to Pot' at the Rectory. But, if he is little George Pottingur, why doea he call himself Dasky ?" " It may not mean his name."

" Bat 1 think it must mean it, for that is what our little Jacky called himsalf tho other day." "And does Mrs. John know nothing of Mrs. Pottingor ?'' "She said ye3terday, I taink it was, shs had heard privately that Kossitur was living in Great Centre Bridge, aud ehe meant to go over some day (I am not aure that she was not going to-day,) aud aee if she could find her. But why should sho bo in Groat Centre Bridgo when her peoplo livo in Stillingfort?" "But is not her father dead?" " Yes, ho died quito suddenly about a fortnight after youug Charles Hossitur and l>l3 wife 3ailed for Australia. lam so g'.ad that poor fellow ia over his troubles. Then Alice, tho other sister, married tho eldoct son of Lord Stillingfort'a steward, and she and he keep on tho farm. Dr. Murray told all thia to mo, and ho has ascertained that Bolla Kossitur has never been to Stillingfort. And now I must go. Can I drive you into town ? 1 am happy to say that I have my dear ' Firo and Smoke' still. Tho ouly thing the; papa will not allow Amy to interfere in is tho stable. Ho has his own way thcro ! Sho actually wanted him to put down Auntie's basket carriage, on the score of expense." As the two ladies wero driving through tho High-street, Letty suddonly exclaimed, " Why, thero is Amy alone in a railway fly ! I wonder where sho has been." " Perhaps to Great Centro Bridge, to look after Kosaitur," said Miss Masham ; "you said sho was thinking of going to day. How handsome sho is looking ! You cannot deny it, Letty ; sho is a beautiful woman." CHAPTER LIV. BELLA 110S3ITU11 RKAPPfiARS.

That same afternoon, Walter Duncombc, of whom passing mention has already beau made in thia story, was lunching alouo at the Hermitage. Hβ had come into possession of tho beautiful old houao and tine property, upon tho death of his eccontrio and not very reputable old uncle ; but, with tho exception of a flying visit now and then, Stoneahire had seen nothing of him ; now, however, ho had made up his mind to settle permanently in the county—to become kuown, aud popular if possible, among tho country gentry ; to entertain, and be entertained, aud, ia due time, to marry. It may here bo mentioned that the Hermitage was tho principal place, and the Duncombes wore tho principal people in Great Centre Bridge, a3 the Chase was the principal place, and the Erskinca the principal people, of tho smaller town.

Walter was a handsome dark man, tall and well made, but somewhat horsy and fast looking ; but all the Dnncombos wero the same ; he had not introduced the traits into the family. He was not more thuii five-and-thirty, but in appearance he was ten years older a man who not only know a great deal about the seamy aide of life, but enjoyed his knowledge, and would be in no way averse to $dd to it If opportunity offered. He did not look forward with very great pleasure to the life of a country gentleman ; he was aware that, before all things, he must be respectable if he wished to be tolerated and received a3 an intimate, or even as acquaintance at the houses of his neighbours ; and to be respectable was to be dull! His uncle had not been respectable, and ho was not noticed by anyone, but thon of late years, owing to ill-health and morosenessof temper, the old man's life had been as dull as if he had been a pattern of all the virtues all hie life, But with all his dread of dulness of ultra respectability, Walter Duncombe had in his heart an unexpressed desire bo to live and conduct himself that tho somewhat sarnished name he boro might shine out with fresh lustre, and many and many a time he said to himself, " Everything depends upon the woman I marry." And how often daring the paefc ten years had he been on the brink of marriage with a woman who would drag him down instead of raising him, no one knew as well as he himself ! He had unfeignodly rejoiced over hie -»«vnv deliverance jixcani^u*. ttua. occasion i.

and that one was when Jack Erskiae had interfered to prevent his marriage with Bella Rossitnr, who was, at the time, lady's maid to the beautiful Amy Gordon, to whom Erskine was engaged. Never before or since had he seen a woman like Bella in any rank of life ! Something in her to which he could not give a name, over and above her mere physical beauty, had attracted him ; ehe had so much "go !" such pluck and determination ; and yet, in Bpita of ib all, she had allowed hereelf to be persuaded, or bullied, into marrying a common soldier I True, she was engaged to him before she left England, but what of that? Walter never understood how she bad been talked inao becoming George Pottingsr'e wife ; he might have found out if he had not been bo angry with her that he actualiy went out of hia way to avoid a meeting with her, by Starting for England oa sick leave ; and boforo the time came for him to go back to India, hia uncle died, and he left the aervico without delay. She must have been told by some meddling fool, Jack Krskine perhaps, that hia intentions wcro not honourable; and as ehe W33 not quite without foundation for any doubts of him that may have existed in her own mind, she was perhaps too strongly tampted to make the best of a bad business to resist the preasuro that was put upon her.

The episode in hia Indian life that connected him with Bella Eosaitur had been brought back to hi 3 mind by a rumour that had reached him of Mrs. John Erskiue's arrival at the Chase. He had heard of young John's death at; Simla, but not of Pottinjjcr's insanity ; so he did not know whether ltossitur had accompanied her mistress to England or remained in India with her husband. If the latter, so much the better perhaps; but the chances wore that Mrs. Erskino would not part with her. If that were the oasa ho might see her any day, and then— why, then, he wae JJuncombe of the Hermitage, and thero cou!d net be auy renewal of the old friendship and familiar intercourse between him acd Mrs. John Erskino's maid. But he must find out if she was r.tthoCha3e ; the knowledge might prove useful. He was was waited ou at luncheon by the venerable butler who had been for yearn his uncle's "factotum," and who was likely to hold ofhea at tho Hermitage as long as he lived. "Has anyone called lately, Ellis ?" Duncombe asked. "It was annonnced in the Stoueahire Mercury a fortnight ago that I had taken up my residence here, and someone may havo looked mo up on tho btrength of it." "I left some carde on the library table," Eilia answered, "and Sir John Erskine rode over tho day before yesterday, and said he would come another day soon. 1 ' " Anyone with him, Ellis?" •' No, sir; he was alone. He is looking very well now, Sir Jolin is. He tuok the captain's death terribly to heart, but he's getting over it now. He says to me, * Ellie, we must keep Mr. Duncoinbe at home now ; it's a pity this lino place should be standing empty.' " " Perhaps he would not enjoy being alone in these big rooms himself," Duucombo replied, with a laugh, "and ho may not like all my friends when he sees them. By tho way, Ellis, is Mrs. John Erskiae at the Chase now ? The poor captain'j widow, I used to know her out in India." "Ob, yes, sir! She's there now," Ellis replied, delighted to have some newa to tell. " dhe came with her little boy, the heir he is now, about a month ago ; and people do say that Sir John is very much taken up with her." " Have you seen her, Ellis ?" " No, eir; but I am told she is a fine, handaome young woman." " Yes ; she's a pretty woman ! Has eho brought any servants with her, do you know J" "I do not know, sir, for certain ; but I understand she has her own maid." "I must go over and call to-morrow or next day." "Her own maid," he said to himself; as, for amusement after luncheon, he set to work to examine the condition of some half dozen guns ho had taken from their respective cases and put together. "Her own maid! Bella, of course. Now, what had I better do: Ask Mr 3. John for hor boldly, and pretend I have forgotten all tho circumstances connected with hor marriage to what's-hia-name, the soldier ? That will bo my wisest course, all things considered; but it will be awkward if I stumble upon her anywhere about tho house or grounds I I could not be cad enough to paaa her hy. And I was fond of her in those days ! Poor Bella! If sho had trusted to me 1 believe she would be Mra. Buncombe now. But, perhaps, she hadn't too much reason, for I kept shilly-shallying and hanging back, and women in her place don't liko tnafc sort of thing. I wish I hadn't como home just now. I waut to ba a good boy and marry one of the country ladies and keep up the old name if I can ; but if I see her r.gain I am just as likely as not to make a fool of myself. I bcliovo I would marry her to-morrow if che were a widow. So I hope, with all my heart, the husband—Pottinger, that's his name—ia alive and well! Bella Pottinger ! What a combination. Audhowsho hated that fallow ! Sho had a temper of hor own, too. I think I must aak Mrs. John how shy is if only to make sure that she is at tho Chase. Sho may bo in India with Pottinger and the regiment. Poor Bella. How sho cried tho last time wo met. 1 tfnould like to eee heit onco more just to tell her that ehe need nol; have believed everything Jaak Erakine said about me, and I liked her— Well, Ellis, what is it? Anyone called ?" " Well, no sir; not exactly. ISono of tho gentry, if you please, sir." " Some of tho townsfolk—eh ?"

*'No, sir. It's only a young person—that is, eir, I meau, a young lady, who wiahea to see you for live minutes ou business."

"A young lady ! What sort of a youna lady, Ellis ?"

"That is just what I can't make out, sir. Slio spa&ks just liko a lady, but then—" " Youug ladies in theso parts do not call upon young gentlemen, I understand ? Vary proper, too. Just go and find out her name, Ellis, will yon ? No ; don't do that; show her into tho library, aad say I am coming. 1 ninst just wash my handa. I daresay she has come for a subscription," he added, as Eilis left the gunroom. Well, if ahe'a a pretty girl I'll give her a fat cheque ! If not, a couplo of sova will do. Now then."

Dβ went up tho stono passage that led from tho gunroom to the greac hall, whistling a tuue. The woman who waa waiting for him in tho library heard him the moment ho caino through the swiug door at the end of the passage, and with a rapid turn of her hand she threw baok the thick veil that hid her faco j then sho stood still and waited.

The whistling ceased as Duncombe's hand touched the haadlo of the door; it turned, and ho cama in sayiug, " I beg you par .'on for keeping—" Bat tho apology was never finished. The nexi words that pa3Bed his lips were : "In the name of all that's wonderful, Bella Kossitur, is it you ?" " Mrs. Pottinger, if you please, air," RossU tur answered aa she dropped a little courtesy.

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