RED HOUSE MYSTERY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXI, Issue 9401, 6 January 1894, Page 3 (Supplement)

RED HOUSE MYSTERY.

Br MBS. HUNGEBFOBD, ~ ' Auttor of "Molly Bawn," "Airy, Fairy Lilian,' >Mra. Geoffrey," "Lad/ Brankamere," "The O'Connors of BalUnahincb," etc.

CHAPTER XXXII. 1 My true lore h&th my heart, and I have his , By just exchange, one for the other given; I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss. There never was a better bargain driven. The party broke up, not with apparent unity, yet simultaneously; and by degrees everyone, with the sweetest, most unconcerned smile in the world, was asking for his or her barouche or landau or dogcart. Nobody knew anything. Bub everyone had at once noticed how dull the sky was looking (it was a brilliant azure, but providentially a little cloud lay in the south-east), and everyone said it would be so wise to get home as soon as possible. Somebody outside the latest bulletin had suggested vaguely that he would like to say good bye to his host, but that tiresome somebody was hustled into a corner and carefully suppressed. , There was a last moment, however, when Agatha found herself alone with Dillwyn. The short, scrubby bushes were thick in this blessed spot; and whilst all those over there were standing in groups discussing in low tones the situation—gossiping gaily, but always in a careful underbreath, and Baying the queerest things in the most ordinary language—Dillwyn and Agatha were virtually alone. "That is all over, I fancy," said Dillwyn, alluding to Elfrida's engagement with Ambert. " Yes, I think so. lam sure of it." " The best thing that could happen to her. Love alone makes marriage sacred." " And as for Ambert— would nob have made her happy." «' I don't believe lie could make anybody happy. But don't let us waste our time over him. We have only a moment— When can I see you again ?" " To-morrow. By the river!" " Yes. At four. Agatha ! I hope you know how I feel about all this secrecy— how 1 detest it. It is always on my mind that our meetings will be discovered, and that on you the annoyance will fall. Every evening I picture you to myself sitting dolefully"—he tried to smile—"whilst Mrs. Greatorex scolds you. I would to heaven, my darling, I were a rich man ; though I never cared for money till I Paw you." "You mustn't expect miracles," said she tenderly; but somehow I feel sure it will all be right, and very soon, too. Aunt Hilda will give in—she cannot persist much longer —or else something will happen." "That's rather Mieawbarish, isn't it? Well, we must wait, I suppose. But"— he kissed the palms of her pretty hands slowly, lingeringly— waiting is hard." Elfrida stayed awake till twelve o'clock that night. A wonderful concession for her to any emotion. Then she went to bed and slept soundly until her maid next morning called her. Still, she was of such strength that the morning's thoughts did nob necessarily affect those of the night before.

She had said lasb nighb she would not marry Ambert. She said the same thine to herself to-day, as she awoke from her slumbers.

She had not yet, however, said whom she would marry. Of course, she did not know. No doubt that question lay in the future. Futures are sometimes very near. She dressed herself and went down to the garden. She always rose early, and was in the bubit of taking a little first breakfast in her own room. And now she found that the tiny cup of chocolate and its accompanying roll was as much as she cared for to-day. . To-morrow, no doubt, it would be different.

She strolled slowly here and there amongst the hollyhocks, thab now were losing their excellence. But presently, growing tired of them, she lefb the garden and strolled idly into the meadow beyond it, and leaning her arms upon the stile, told herself it was lovely to be alone for once, and at this delightful hour, with nob a single weight on her mind, not a creature in eight, and her engagement broken oft ! Engagements were odious ! Never would r.he submit to one again. They were de moralising—they betrayed distrust both in the man and woman. They meant waiting Hud waiting. Well, what did that mean? No ! If ever she were to dream of marriage again there should be no waiting—that is, no engagement. Hateful word ! Suddenly a quick light grew within her eyes. Down there in the lower field, quite a quarter of a mile away, someone was walking quickly. A quarter ot a mile is a long way for people to distinguish one person from another, but somehow Elfrida waa equal to the occasion. She knew at once that the man down there trudging across that field was Tom. She always called him Sir. Blount to people, but to herself of late he had been Tom. It suddenly occurred to her how absurd ib was that Tom should bo crossing that field down there, without even knowing that she was here. And how often had she told herself that she would never be absurd i She thought a moment, and then this finished coquette drew a handkerchief from her pocket and held it aloft. The breeze caught and swayed it most delicately to and fro, but it did not after all teem to be ox much use. At all events the curate held his even way, and was now nearly across the field without having glanced once in its direction. Eifrida was a person hard to beat. She now flung down the handkerchief, and raised both her small white hands to her mouth.

" Coo-ce." The old Australian call came sweetly from her lips, and rang as such a sweet call should, straight to where it wa3 meant to go. The young man in the field below stood still, glanced to right and left, and then direct to the right. Yea. She was there It was she who had called him. He forgot old Mrs. Stringers, to whom he was going to pay an early parochial visithe made it up to her on the double later on—and turning round went straight to Elfrida. But as he went his heart quailed. What was she going to say to him? Was she angry about what had happened yesterday ? Did she know ? Of course, she she knew; someone would be sure to tell her! And she was now going to forbid him her presence for the futureto cast him off.

Blount know nothing of what had happened after he ran away yesterday from her displeasure. Now, as with a beating heart he drew near her, he asked himself had it been worth while. If only be had kept hi 3 temper, and let that feilow go— she might still— But all at once he knew he was nob sorry for what he had done. He was not repentant. He was glad he had licked that cur.

He was quite near, before he dared to look at her, and then his spirits went up with a bound. Sho had nob heard then ! Sho received him sweetly. " Fancy your cutting me like that," said she.

"Cutting you ?" " Well, yes—down there in the lower meadow. I waved my handkerchief to you, bur,, of course, one needn't see a thing unless one likes."

" I should have liked," said he. " Bub I did l't see." - i. '

No ? And then I called to you. You," with a glance from under her long lashes, •' had to come then." > You know very well," said he : with some reproach, "that I was only too glad to come." ' u :

She laughed a little, bub she had the grace to blush ; she stood opposite to him, with her pretty head held down, apparently watching her foot as ib played with a pebble beneath it. •- v- :■

" What made you do that yesterday?" asked she at last, in a low tone. ,i' i She did know then Blount's heart leaped. Sho knew and was not angry. " Who told you ?" asked he. " Bab that is outside the matter. I did it ' because it was what I was longing bo do for months. 01: course," slowly, "I could say I did ib because he insulted me, bub there's no good telling a lie about it." " " For months ! And why ?" • She was still watching the pebble. Tom Blount paused. "

** What's the good oS your going oh like that ?" eaid ho. - •->< " Like what?" She looked up now (or a moment. <;*'. v-'i-*:»:■■« s:q. /» . • ' " Pretending not to know." r* < •>. t:«« Know vvV Well—lf yon will have it," J said he desperately, "I half killed that fellow because you had promised to marry him, and— forgive me—l'm hot a bit sorry for it." .') J

There was a short silence, then Elfrida looked straight at him— <. v Neither am I," said she. - \ This astounding announcement from the bride-elect Of the man he had just thrashed started Blount into more immediate action. ; "Then what on earth are you marrying him for ; v '.•> *

" Oh, that's all over," said Elfrida, airily. " What's over ?" , . ;

"My engagement to Lord Ambert. Didn't yon know ?I could' not possibly marry a man who had been beaten—and beaten by you I" , - . . •. " Your engagementover." " Why, yea, yes," impatiently* 14 You are free now ?" • " I don't know," said she, softly. Her eyes were again on the ground. ■ Tom Blount looked at ! her. Was she in earnest? Did Bhe mean it? An uncomfortable feeling that she might be playing with him was unnerving him. "You don't believe it," she said." She could read him like a book, and perhaps (some books are beautiful) that was why she liked him. "It Seems to me," petulantly, "that you don't want to believe it. And yet you tell me you half killed that coward just because—" . " I loved you," said Blounb. "Ah She was nob looking at the pebble now; she was looking at him. "You loved me then; I wonder—if you love me now."

" Elfrlda!" "You do ' She laughed again, so prettily, and held out to him her hand. He took it and held it) fast. He found he could not apeak; no words came to him. But he held her band as though he would never lot it) go again. Elfrida was still laughing, but there were tears in her eyes. "Why don't you kiss it?" she said, coquette to the last. lorn Blount did not, however. His face was very white, bub there was strength in his firm and tender mouth. He drew her to him. * .. - " I will nob kiss your hand unless I kiss you," said he. " And I would not kiss you unless you said you would be my wife." " Wouldn't you?" said Elfrida. All her old audacity had come back to her. She stood erect and looked at him defiantly. Her eyes sparkled; she did not, however, remove her hand from his grasp. It would have been difficult. "Very well, then, let me bell you that I wouldn't kiss you for anything you could offer—unless you said you would be my husband.", ' I don't think either of them knew which was the first. It was a simultaneous rush into each other's arms.

• • • *■ • ' • She took him in for breakfast—she had recovered her appetite—and told Miss Fira-Robinaon all about it on the spot. The servants providentially were oub of the room, or I am sure she would have told them too.

Miss Firs-Robinson, who had refused to believe in Elfrida's determination to break off the engagement with Ambert, was at first greatly upset. She marched to the window, turning her back upon Blount— was beyond question the finest back in Europe—and thrummed upon the panes for a minute or so. Then she came back.

"lbis a blow —a blow," said she. Your poor father meant you to be—" "Happy!" said Klfrida. "And I shall be so happy with Tom and Tom with me. Won't you, Tom?" Blount had his arm round her in a moment. "And I couldn't bear Ambert, Auntie, could I now? And you couldn't bear him, either. Could you now ?" . . She lefb Blount's dear arms, and wenb to Miss Firs-Robinson, and slipped herself into her embrace. "He was an earl!" said that old lady, in a distinct tone.

"He was a beast," said her niece, sweetly. ; There seemed something definite about this. 1 Miss • Firs-Robinson let Elfrida recline upon her ample bosom, and Elfrida accepted the air cushion very gracefully. Peace with honour seemed to be restored, when all at once Miss Firs-Robinson spoke again. Her words were unpleasant, bub she for the first time on this eventful morning addressed them to Blount, which of course was a good sign. " Elfrida has a great deal of money/' said she. "I know," said Blount. Ho was "feeling restive. "Why," said he, looking at Elfrida, "could you nob endow a hospital or an orphanage, or—" *'Certainly not 1" said Elfrida, abandoning the air cushion on the spot. " Why should we be uncomfortable jusb because we happen to love each other ?"' She ran to him. " I love you, and yon love me, and, Auntie" she looked back and held out her hand to the old lady, " you love him too, don't you ?" " How can I bell!" said she. " Well, ab all events, you hated' Amberb, didn't you now ?" Miss Firs-Robinson struggled with herself and then gave way. She burst into " Like poison, my dear," said she j " like poison."

CBAPTER XXXIII. But I am tied to very thee By every thought I have; Thy face 1 only card to see, Thy heart I only crate.

* • . • . * * • One surprise makes many. The neighbourhood of Rickton had hardly recovered from its astonishment about the fact that Elfrida had thrown over Lord Ambert, and accepted the curate, when a still greater piece of news descended upon them. Old Reginald Greatorex died on the very evening of the day that saw Elfrida emancipation, and a letter two days later from his solicitors told Dillwyn that the old man had made him his heir. Dillwvn went down to the funeral, and heard the will read. It was all true. There were no near relations, and no entail. Reginald was at liberty to leave his property as he choseand he choose now to leave Medlands and three thousand a year to the son of the woman who had been the one love of his life. , • ' To Mrs. Greatorex he left ten thousand pounds, to her immense astonishment. She had expected nothing , from him. It made her feel quite rich, and on the spot she forgave him all 1 Dillwyn, on his return, had an early interview with her. He was determined to see her, even before seeing Agatha, though he wrote the latter an impassioned note out of the fulness of his heart. Mrs. Greatorex received him with open arms, and without a touch of embarrassment. He studied her, and found her wonderful. She told him in the frankest way that she had always liked him —nay, loved him; but, of course, he could see that Agatha must be considered. , ■ She had constituted herself her dear girl's guardian, and waa it not her duty then to place her as well in life as,! possible?; Bat. thai was all over now, of counie; .' and her darling Agatha would be happy, and comfortable as well. "And really, you know, that Dr. Darkham was—well—not quite up to the mark, you know— a gentleman." - ;-y;" J 6 *'V;' ' Dillwyn felt he ought to have been disgusted. Bub he was too happy. He felt nothing except a wild desire for slaughter, and after a smuggle he gave way to it. He feared she might be offended, but she wasn't. She laughed, tooquite gaily— Eatted his arm with her fan, and. told him e was " a naughty boy." When he was going away she kissed him, and told him she was never so delighted in her ;life—she knew he was the only man in the world j who could make her dearest girl happy.' ' " Her dearest girl" had only one moment then with her lover, but it was a rapturous one. He had to go off in a hurry to see" old General Montgomery, who had had another alight attack last night, and who would allow no doctor bub Dillwyn neap him. He had chafed greatly at the young man's unavoidable absence during the past two days. However, he bold her he would be back in an hour, and would she meet him in the wood ?—they would be alone , there. Of course she would. •*. \ f - When he wast gone Mrs. Greatorex sent for Agatha. « The girl quite expected that she would have said- something a!boub Jack, but there was no mention of him for" some , time; she dealt largely on . the difference [ the 1 tea thousand pounds would make in

her income, and then drifted off to Elfrida; She had behaved so wisely, she said. _ "That is quite what I think," said Agatha. , " She would have been wretched with Lord Ambert." . ~ V: " Absolutely so." *' i " And Wasn't it sweet of her to give him up—the title, the position, everything—for the sake of her love for Tom Blount." .•■■■>.=■ j " Id would, if ib had been do. 1 Bub, my dear Agatha, anybody with a brain could see that the girl quailed before the prospect held out to her." -< ''

~ "No wonder j" said Agatha, earnestly. " Such an odious man."

" My dear, it wasn't the man, it was the position that frightened her. A girl like that—of no family, whose people kept a store —to even dream of being a Countess was the most outrageous, presumption. At the last, you see, she shrank from it she felt she could not with any propriety wear a coronet. * Her brows were not formed for ib by nature. It"—solemnly— would drop off. Now you, Agatha, you will be indeed a fitting mistress for— . She paused, and then said suddenly, " Medlands 1" Agatha Bab and stared. Mrs. Qreatorex beamed back at her. A stranger, looking in, would never have dreamed that Mrs. Qreatorex had ever had other designs for Agatha than the marrying of her to Dr. Dillwyn. " I think," said she, lightly, " yon had better write a little line to Dr. Darkham—" ' "I? No," said Agatha, with determination. She rose. " Why should I write to him ?" "My dearest, just a little word to terminate —er—unfortunate engagement." '"There was no engagement," said the girl, proudly, " except my engagement to Jack. I have had nothing to do with Dr. —nothing! " Well—very little, certainly," said Mrs. Qreatorex. She smiled. " What a blessing," said she, " that you never encouraged him. Ha has hardly anything to complain of, really. Hardly anything. Tell Mary to put on her hat. I shall send him a little diplomatic, friendly line at once."

Under the trees it was charming, though many of them were now losing their leaves. Agatha and Dillwyn sat beneath a huge beech, and made sweeb plans for their future. They felt so happy > and so alone. It was lovely to be alone, and to be able to say everything that came straight from their hearts without the necessity of whispering. Of course they could nob tell that just behind them, kneeling in the shelter of a thick growth of young trees, was a man— a man whose face was the face of a devil at that moment. They discussed all their happy plans. They arranged that they should live at Medlands, and they named the day for their wedding. There was nothing to grieve them in old Reginald's death. Dillwyn had known him but very slightly, and gratitude was the principal feeling he had for him. » " I feel as if I ought to be sorry for him," said he with a little self-reproach. "But somehow I can feel nothing, bub that I can claim you now before the world." "I was yours whether the world knew ib or not," said she. " I know. I know. . . . Mrs. Greato* rex has written to Darkham ?"

" Yea; immediately after you lefb. Ha knows by this time that even a question of an engagement is at an end." " Presumptuous brute," said Dillwyn. The man behind smiled, There was a look on his face as though he were jotting down something in his memory. Dillwyn looked at his watch, and suddenly sprang to his feet. "By Jove," said he, "it's just two." " Well, bub that is vary early," in an aggrieved tone. " Too early," with disgust. " Bub that poor old fellow is very unstrung, and begged me to go back at two." " The General

" Yes, I'll pull him through, I think ; but he is very shaky and nervous. I am going to sleep there to night." " Are you ? Ob, I'm glad," said Agatha, quickly. "Glad! Why?" " I don't know," —she hesitated. " Don't despise me for it, Jack ; bub I do dread that horrible man, Dr. Darkham. Sometimes "I think he is mad. However, at General Montgomery's you will be safe." Dillwyn laughed gaily, and caught her to him, and kissed her.

" What a dear and lovely baby J" said he. There, go—go said she. She gave him the prettiest of little shoves, and then pulled him back to her. " Promise me you will think of me every moment, from this until we meet again." "Promise! To promise thab, indeed! Ask me something difficult. Ask me to forget you for even half a moment." "Asif I ehould ask you that! Oh, darling, darling Jack," throwing herself into his ready arms. " I'm too fond of you, and that's the fact."

" Sweet fact," said he. They kissed and kissed, and when they reached the entrance to the wood they kissed again and parted. Darkham, kneeling there in his purgatory, had seen and heard everythingthe lover's dalliance, the soft blushes, the glad embraces. ... On such and such a day they were to be married. All their young lives were to be a dream of joy ! When they were gone he fell prone upon the earth—with his face to it; and so lay long without moving. Then he raised himself and got slowly to his feeb. He looked round him for a moment vaguely, as though earth and sky and place were strange to him. Then he turned and ran, crashing wildly through brambles and bracken and furze, as though there was a fiend of hell pursuing him. . . Perhaps there was.