MAIDA.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIX, Issue 11872, 25 January 1902, Page 3 (Supplement)

MAIDA.

BY CHARLES GAKVICB, - l-utlior of "With All Her Heart," " At Lore's Cost," " Love, the Tyrant," " Hie Shadow of Her Life," "A Heritage of Hate," - etc., etc., etc. CHAPTER XIV. Sox-re persons, like Lord Byron, and, alas! innumerable " celebrities" of these latter days, wake to find themselves -:

famous. The Carringtons woke the morning after the Court dinner to find them-j■ selves popular,*: which is a far better tiling,'' by the way. " ■ * The Walmingtons and the Percys drove up in state the next day to call, and while they were there the Glassburys were an- C nounced. The gorgeous, drawing-room had . never contained so many aristocratic per-. : / sons, for the late unfortunate owner had been completely ignored by the " county." Mr. ■■■', Carrington / fidgeted about, looking from one to the other with an affectation of . . ease which covered a genuine geniality, .<,- 1 and Carrie was unfeignedly happy and de- : lighted. Maida alone was calm and un- / ' moved, and presided over the tea,,. which 1 ; ~ was served by the two resplendent footmen, ;,/ with the serenity and repose which seemed' to have grown more marked since the. won- / derful change in the family circumstances. -• There was plenty of talking and much. ' laughter— which Carrie and Lord Glassbury were mainly responsible—and Mr. Spinner stood about, looking on with the approving smile of a benevolent griffin who Ei had planned the whole function. . V . Lady Walmington' was . quite enthusiastic : ; -i about the house. ..v" 1 - . ■ • \--/ "' New,' of course it's new," she admitted /.- to Maida. "But everything must be. new some time, and if you lived in,a draughty, old place always out of repair, as I have,' you'd appreciate the Towers. Why, the; rain came through my bedroom in torrents last winter"—etc. "'./ v "I wonder why Lord Heroncourt didn't come with the Glassburys," said Came, after •j j the visitors had gone. "Why, there he is, >.'/ riding up the drive. Is the tea cold, Maida?'. :>£ But of course it is! We must have somefresh made— ' . "v'v

"Lord Heroncourt has probably had his; tea, or does not want any, or he would have < come in time. It is nearly six o'clock." ' ! r) " Maida, try not to grow mean in your j old age. He shall have a cup of tea, if I i 1:;. have to pay for it out of my own allow-1 ance," said Carrie. , • ' Heroncourt had resolved not to call at the Towers for, at any rate, some days; and; , yet there ho was, gibing at his own folly j and infatuation. _• And it 'appeared . too, that he wanted some tea, for he did not de- : cline it when Maida offered it as. she gavei him her hand. He sat in one of the easy-, . chairs, and was not nearly so talkative, and • : a long way from as noisy as the others who: had just left, and most of his conversation was with Carrie. • ' But present he turned to Maida. • " You were speaking of your organ, Miss . ' Carriugton. I found the particulars of the one at the Court". • • - ' _ • . ' "Want a new organ,.eh, Maida," cut in).' j Mr. . Carrington, pleasantly. "All - right; if Lord Heroncourt can help you with his 1 j advice" ■ vv".. "Good heavens! I don't know an organ from a concertina Heroncourt said, with v a laugh ; " only Miss Carrington, when she . was playing at the Court the other night, : . happened to mention' ' If you'll come up to the corridor. I'll, v - show you the difference," said Carrie, • ? promptly. " Come along, Maida."..' They went up to the corridor, and Maida " showed the faults of the instrument. "Get one like Lord.Heroncourt'sy if he 7; don't mind our copying it," said Mr. Carrington, cheerfully. • _ ' " I'll see about it, if you'll permit me, Miss Carrington," said Mr.- Spinner. " "If Lords Heroncourt will give us the address of the V makers and all the particular." " Mr. Spinner is going up to a little place . % called London to-morrow,"- explained Carrie. 'Mr. Spinner sighed assent. I'm sure we shall all miss him very much and ■. v we should not be able, to get on without him-rX? if he hadn't arranged to send a clerk down a. Clarke by name and a clerk by calling," continued Carrie, with childlike innocence.; ' : Come and tell me about those . alterations -: • i you and papa have ordered, Mr.. Spinner." • Left alone with Maida, Lord Heroncourt.. appeared to have little to say; but Maida led the conversation to. the villagers ; and' the poor people of the place; and it was' ; not until he had gone that she became con- ;:' ; scious of his reserve and reticence. She had] \ asked him if lie thought they would' mind ; * her calling upon some of them,' and,'as he ; had answered her that they would not only! not mind but would be flattered and grate-j' ful she went next day a kind' of round without a basket. And as she came out of . ' one of the cottages she met Lord Heroncourt. He was followed by a pack of dogs, .Sj amongst whom was Graf, who instantly re- J cognised her, and indicated the fact in the usual canine manner. ; . . " Oh, please don't call him away, his feet • x are quite clean—see, I. have shaken hands : K ■with him, and it has not soiled my glove," • she pleaded. : - - : "Well?" lie asked; nodding towards the cottages from which the inhabitants,were gazing at them with a kind of friendly awe.. > - "It was as :you said," she answered; "they were all very kind to me I cannot tell you how nice; and I am ,so glad! I .■ /. shall never feel time hang heavily on my hands now, and shall always know what to do. They are very poor, most of them, are they not, Lord Heroncourt?" • Yes," ho said, with rather a grim smile. "We are all poor, from master to servant, owner to tenant." ' I "And yet they .' are so self-respecting, so j fre from servility; so unlike the London poorah, but how different their lives are! Think of this pretty cottage : and this heavenly air, and remember the London slums ' and the polluted atmosphere! But they all sing your praises, Lord Heroncourt!" ■ " I "They do, do they? They've little cause. I can't do anything for them. Those cot- - tages ought to come down; but if I pulled 'em down I couldn't afford to stick up better ones." : ■ • - "Then they have all the more reason for > speaking well of you," she said, gently. < " They take the will for the deed. Ah, I ■ understand!" she added under her breath, as ■>. a couple of children came toddling out of , the nearest cottage,, hand in hand, and, . , coming straight up to Heroncourt, looked up at him expectantly< ' UP '' They're twins. These little beggars are old friends of mine," he responded, apoloDivme a jump an( some sweeties, lord," piped the girl, With infantile courage. While the twin of the other sex sucked his thumb and hung his head shyly. ' . _ . • Heroncourt swung them up on to his shoulders with a rueful smile. „ " Let this be an example to you," he said. "One day when I was staying here I hap- ' pened to be in a good temper—my. horso .§1 had won the City and Provincial, I rem em-; % ber—and I did this. Hence these tears .• i suppose I shall have to go on doing it until; i; * they have grown too old, for it to be properi eh, Mary Belinda Anne? Sweet thmg m gg | names,, isn't it?"

"She's a sweet child," said Maida, lookH ing .at the mite perched on his shoulder, and looking out of the tail of her eyes at the owner of the shoulder. . . "But you shouldn't give them pennies,_ she added, severely. - , .... "I don't; it's never.less than a shilling; oh, it's all sight, they share it with the others"—as a reinforcement bore down upon them. "Come along or we shall have to . surrender unconditionally." ' They went off together and Heroncourt, to keep her with him, talked of" the children they had escaped and their condition. : It appeared that the parents wanted new cottages, the children wanted new schools; the church wanted a new roof and bells and seats the men wanted a reading-room, / and the women wanted sewing clubs. "'And I wish they may get them," he said, with an assumption of indifference " which did not deceive Maida. "Yes, I am sure you do," she said, very : "Yes, I do," lie admitted with a touch of suppressed fierceness. " And I wish I didn't; I didn't care a fig a few months ■ ago"■ ■ » » , , "Ah, but a great deal can happen to change us in a few months she said, with her rare smile. "I turn up this lane. Thank you for telling me so much, Lord Heroncourt." - . , , He raised his hat and stood bareheaded looking after her. He had admired her for ; her beauty, was well-nigh loving her for it; was he going to adore her for her good11They met nearly every day at dinner ■' .v . parties—the dinner party at the Towers was as great a success as that of the Court, and it put the coping-stone to the Carrmg- : , tons' popularity, for Maida recited and set the whole county ablaze with her name and ■ extraordinary talent—sometimes at garden parties, and sometimes in the green lanes and the village, where Maida's presence as a general guardian angel and Lady Bountiful was frequent. ~ 1 And Lord Heroncourt was not happy. You see, when he was away from her he was longing to be near her and when he was by her side he was discontented and - devoured by that aching longing" which comes to : the man and the woman when ; they love. He fought against the spell that was working its charm over him, and tried to keep away from her, to banish her from I his mind, for the thought that he was poor i • and she was rich, the loathing for the con--1 - struction which the world would put upon : his love, if he declared it, made him resolve to crush out that love. , , _ But the gods smile at mans struggles •with his iia.te, and, when it pleases them, just push him across the board like a chess P1 Onts afternoon the two girls and their father were comiug over the hills from a long walk: they were walking rather last, lor Ricky was coating by the five o'clock, and Carrie had set ier mind upon meeting him. " Come along, father," she said, "we shall ' just be able to do it I wouldn't miss Ricky for a king's ransom, I want to drive him home in the dogcart —" "I should lfove thought the carriage would have been more suitable and comfortable ; and it's going to rain : it's making for a storm," said Mr. Carrington, puffingly, for, like Hamlet, he was fat and scant of breath. "And more dignified, if you will permit me to say so, my dear." " That's just why I am going to take the dogcart me and dignity!_ Besides •we shan't melt. I'll take a mackintosh for Ricky; he's sun to have forgotten one. What are you stopping for, Maida? If its going to ram you'd better get home or you 11 take cold, and then what would Lord Heron- • court say—" . . . . "Lord Heroncourt! said Maida, with a touch of colour on her cheeks, but a look in her eyes that made Carrie add quickly: "I mean all of them, if you are not able to recite at the Percys' to-morrow. Do come along!" . "I must go down to the village, said • Maida in her quiet, decided way. "I promised to read to that poor girl of Mrs. Oatway's. I shall not hurt; I have a cape on; and I will go through the plantations, . where I shall be sheltered. Give my love to Rickv." . . . " Most absurd, this— district visiting of yours, I must say, Maida; you'll _ catch . the measels or scarlet fever or something." " It is consumption in this case, father," said Maida. Carrie, knowing that remonstrance was ■useless, shrugged her shoulders. "Well, look sharp and come back to tea!" she called out as Maida turned off at the lane. " Oh, what a gust! There's going to be a storm! Tell poor Martha I will send her some more books.' , | Maida went on quickly, but the storm, which had been threatening for some time, was still quicker, and before she had reached the plantation,, the black sky sent down the beginning of a torrent of rain; the wind ; r stopped while the rain fell, but when the shower ceased the wind rose again with renewed force. The plantation was a comparatively new one, and the young trees bent under the scourging blast. Maida was not a nervous girl by any " means, but as a sapling elm came down with ; ; a swish almost in front of her she stopped and looked round her, rather inclined, to go back; but to go back was to face a danger almost: as great as that which she would meet by going on, and she continued her way, keeping a sharp lookout for the swaying trees which threatened to fall at every gust. i ■

But presently there came a terrific wind which howled like a pack of demons through the wood, and she stopped uncertainly, drawing her cape round her.; Her hesitation was only momentary, however, and she went on again. She was fearful now ; but with the fear, was joined a strange excitement which thrilled her, the charm woven by the fierce hands of the Storm Fiend. Her heart beat swiftly, the young blood ran hotly in her veins. If she were to die how better than this, with this grand c'norus of the heavens as her requiem? " It is worth the risk!" she murmured. Then, as the words left her lips, she shrank back with a faint cry. An elm rather larger , than the rest, and right in the way of her path, bent downwards suddenly with a crushing 1 " of its breaking branches tmd a shrieking if its strained roots. She looked up, unconsciously putting up her arm as if to shield herself, for the tree seemed falling straight upon j lief. Death and she looked, for the first time, in each other's faces. A prayer rose from her throbbing heart, and she shut her eyes, for she felt as if she had not the power of moving. Then suddenly she heard a cry— it a human cry or the sound of tearing branches and rending roots?and felt herself caught up and swung aside. The next moment the elm fell with an awful, sickening thud ; and she tried to put up her hands before her face,

But she was held fast, and, looking down mechanically, she saw an arm encircling her. She raised her eyes, and Heroncourt's were looking into them. ■ She did not speak, she could not. She could not even withdraw her eyes, for something in her held her by a spell more potent than even the fear which had stricken her motionless. I /] "My God, how near!" he j said hoarsely. "What are you doing here?' No, don't speak! You are frightened. —this way! Ah, you can't walk, can't move! I know! I know!" . He raised; her in bis arms and carried her —was it only a few steps or a long way? she did not knowto a comparatively clear " space. ; ■ _ • | She caught her breath, fought for her words, as she put up her hands to her head : the wind had swept off her j hat and blown her hair loose and it was partly flowing over her shoulders. ' 7 He held her in his arms, almost strained to his breast. His face was white, his eyes glowing with something more than fear on -I her account;' and his breath beat hotly on her cheek. I • "Maida," he panted./ "Maida— Oh, ; f thank God! If it had fallenif it'had killSi ed you! Oh, my dearest" a shudder shook him silent; but his lips still moved. She gazed at him as if 'she scarcely heard, ; comprehended .then suddenly the blood rose ,to her face, and a startled look came • into her eyes. ' ' ■"[' j j • His arms fell away from her and he slipV ped to his knees—the man was shaking with the ' horror' of her dangerand catching tit. » her hands he pressed them to his lips, , "Maida! Don't you know? I love you ! ; I love you! v Forgive me/forgive: me! But . to find you here, to see you so near death. Death 1 You! Oh, if yon had died- ; Dearest, dearest, I love you, I love you: '• <To be continued on [Wednesday, next.)