KYRA'S FATE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIX, Issue 12055, 27 August 1902, Page 3

KYRA'S FATE.

BY. CHARLES GARVICE. Author of " Maida,"! " With All Her Heart." "At Love's Cost," "Love, the Tyrant," !>-• ' *'. :: "In Cupid's Chains." ' * etc.. etc.

CHAPTER XXX. Ktra breakfasted alone with the landlady next morning, for the two Misses Robinson, of the post office, and Mr. Wicks and Mr. Sutton, had rlready , partaken of that meal and departed for their daily labour, and Mrs. Tonks, the widow, had her tea- and egg taken up to her own room; no doubt it was " a hextra;" and Mrs. Mumlr, already beginning to . look harassed with, the prospect of the day's petty cares . and anxieties, confided some of them to Kyra. \

"You've no idea, how difficult it is to please them all, Miss Burns; now, .for instance, there's Mrs. Tonks, she can't bear veal; and Mi". Wicks, he's always askin' why we don't have it, and if they've given up killin' calves. And the two Miss Robinsons, they don't like pouk, while it's Mrs. Tonks' favourite joint. And there's onions, too. The two Miss Robinsons can't abide. them on the table; they say ; they're vulgar and if I don't have 'em with rabbits and shoulder o' mutton Mis. Tonks gets nasty and 'hits about leaviu' ; and, though she don't pay quite as much as the others, it wouldn't do to lose her, she bein' a permanent. We always reckon oh payin' our rent out of the permanents, you see. Of course, I'm not complaining, and I'm sure, if you have any fancies or dislikes, Miss Burns" . .'.'"Kyra hastened to assure her that she had "not, and Mrs. Mumly heaved a sigh, of relief. : •; "Until you came old Mr. y ,Sutton, was the only one that never complained; he eats everything. In fact, I don't think he knows what he's' eatin', and wouldn't be able to ) tell you whether !it was beef, or mutton, or pork.' He's a permanent, too; he's a very learned old gentleman. He's .in the Ann Teakie line."

: "I beg your pardon,, the what?" asked Kyra, startled-into attention. -! "The Ann Teakie. He buys and sells old cameos—like this one on my brooch"—■ it was a modern of the moderns, one of a kind that Birmingham turns out ' daily by the hundred ' gross—" old coins and that sort of ; thing. They say that there isn't anyone who knows more about them than he does. He spends most of his time at the British Museum studying them, and he's got a kind "of *■ private shop in the West End; I've heard it's only a room but that there's hundreds of pounds' worth of medals and. carved stones, and such like. He comes ■ out. here to board because, he says, it's 'ealthier; - bein' /igher.". : ,: • ~,

*!•. s" He seems a ' very 'quiet, silent. old ; gentleman," Kyra, '.-remarked.,' for the sake of! saying something.- : " Oh, dear, yes ; he never says anything ; you might be here six months before he'd speak to you; and I don't think he hears a word that's said at meals, ■; though he isn't deaf. " He's a most, satis-; factory guest." Mrs. Mumly always called her boarders " guests" or "paying guests." It was more genteel than "boarders." Kyra looked through the ! papers and' answered some more advertisements then she went out on a solitary walk. Islington in the daytime is a very different place to Islington at night. The streets are not so crowded, and there is no lounging about every man walks quickly, on business thoughts intent, and the "shops have an air of waiting for the evening, which brings the customers. She made some more/purchases— were very modest ones—and wandered about some of the quiet streets, wondering whether any of her letters would bring her satisfactory answers, and when she should begin to "earn her own living." In the course of her wanderings she came upon an old arch-, way, and, chancing to look through it, was struck by the quaintness and mediaeval appearance of the little courtyard into which the archway opened. The great elm, in its summer bravery the carpenters, shop, and its heap of white shavings which fell from under the carpenter's plane; the Wind basket-maker at work in the sunlight, with his dog basking at his; feet; the stableman hissing over the horse he was grooming, attracted her attention ;;,: but it was chained, and she was still more delighted -by the pretty, freshlypainted little house in the old inn wail, with the thrush singing gaily* in his cage by the door, and the cat asleep, with one eye on the sparrows, on the mat. The air of repose, of serenity, soothed' her and made her linger. While she stood and gazed another song arose and joined the thrush's. It was a girl's voice, singing softly "Annie Laurie;", and presently a slim and pretty girl came out and shook a tablecloth for the benefit of the pigeons which floated down upon the crumbs and right close up ;to the young girl's feet. It was a charming picture, and Kyra smiled involuntarily in her enjoyment of it. The girl " folded the tablecloth, and, throwing it over her arm, came towards the archway and looked up the street eagerly, shading her happy blue eyes with her hand, as if she were expecting someone. ; Kyra instantly suspected that it was a sweetheart. ~• Whoever it was. he did not [ appear, and the' girl, with a little sigh, was turning away when one of a herd of bullocks that was being driven down the. street charged full into the archway. , The driver ' shouted . a warning, but it was too late, and the animal would have knocked the girl. down if Kyra had notcaught her, by the arm and * lugged her out of the way. ! • ' Of course the girl screamed, and at the sound the stalwart figure of the carpenter dropped his plane and at* a single leap, as it seemed, was at her side. The blind man's dog started for the bullock, the cat fled up the tree, the pigeons fluttered about with whizzing wings, and all was confusion. But in a moment or two the bullock had been headed back into the street; by the stable-man. and .Kyra heard the carpenter inquire eagerly: " You aren't hurl, Bessie? I hope you aren't hurt * . Y

"No, no! It's all rigid, John," said Bessie, panting a little and laughing, but rather nervously. "The thing startled me so! I declare it would have been right on m\ back if it hadn't been for this— young lady." She looked at Kyra with a shy smile of gratitude which changed to one of. surprise aud admiration. Ladies of Kyra's type were as rare in Islington as gentlemen of Mr.. Black's. a . " It—it was very kind and brave of her; and I'm sure I'm very grateful. But I'm afraid you must he very frightened, miss. Won't you come in for a little while and rest? Do, please!"

Kyra—poor, lone! v —found the invitation, conveyed by the soft voice and the pleasant, shy smile, irresistible, and the two girls went into the little parlour John Warden being thanked very sweetly by the pretty Bessie and dismissed. "Please sit down," she said to Kyra, "You don't feel faint? Will you have a glass of water or— or a, little ginger brandy?" "Oh," no: I'm not at all faint,"' replied Kyra, laughing softly. ''You must be very brave!" said Bessie, with wide-open eyes. " And you were: so sharp, too! I'm sure that if I'd seen it coming I should have screamed and ran, and shouldn't ! have thought of anybody but myself." ".I don't think you would —I mean, run away," said Kyra, with a smile. "What a pretty place this is ; with the pigeons and the'tree and everything! I was looking at it all; and m afraid you must have thought me very rude for staring." "Oh, no; everybody looks in at White Horse Lane," said Bessie. "Won't' you loosen your jacket? Do! That's right!" She blushed • at, her own eagerness, and looked shyly at Kyra's beautiful face. "Do you live' near here? Oh, how rude of me!" v

"Not at all," said Kyra. "Yes; I am staying at Danberry Square; it is not far from here, I think: I'm not quite sure.' "Then you are strange, you have not been here long?" inquired Bessie, timidly. "Only one day. And now I will go. Thank "you for asking me to rest. And it is so easy to rest here; it is all so quiet and peaceful so different to the other streets."

As she rose Mr. Nolly came into the yard, and Bessie, exclaiming," Oh, hero's father!" ran to meet him..

• "Father, there's nearly been an accident '.", v she said. ; t " I was standing under the archway, looking for Mr. Black, when a mad bull''—the most harmless of bullocks is a " mad bull" to the ; majority of Londoners—" ran in here and nearly knocked me (town. I'm sure I don't know what would have ~ happened if a young lady— this young ladyhadn't-, caught me by the arm and dragged me out of the way!" Nolly regarded Kyra, gratefully with his one bright:; eye.V . _ : "Very much obliged to you, miss he said. "It was a. plucky thing to do; and I'm sure Bessie here is very grateful. Why don't you offer the young lady a cup of tea, my gen" : : .;. :.. ' Bessie glanced at Kyra. _ v "I— didn't- like to. father," she said, shyly." But, oh, will you, please? Do!" ' "Kyra saw that she would be giving pleasure if she accepted; indeed, she was quite willing to remain; and Bessie bustled about and soon got the tea. "And, Mr. Black ain't come, then?" remarked Nolly, in a pause of the talk between the two girls. Kyra saw.'Bessie blush vividly. "No." she said, evidently trying to speak cheerfully. " No ; something must have kept him. He said he would be here early this ? afternoon." ■•■ .

• Mi*. Black's a particular friend o' ours, miss," said Nolly, with a jerk of his head towards Bessie, and a most appalling wink of his bird-like eye. ." " Oh,' father, how can you !" protested Bessie, quite crimson now. , "Well, what's wrong now? Ain't he? Don't he. come here ever so many.times a week, and didn't he give you that brooch you're wearing?" Bessie's hand went up to the brooch with an ; unconscious caress which told even inexperienced Kyra the whole story. " And be ain't come? Well, don't be "broken-hearted ; he may come yet; there's plenty o' time. And so you're new to the neighbourhood, miss?" he v said, turning to Kyra. "I hope-you'll like it and stick, to it ; and if you do that, you'll, drop <in and see my; Bessie, here, whenever you ' feel so disposed ; I'm sure she'll be glad to see you; and so shall I. And so will Mr. Black, eh, Bessie?" he added, with another wink and a chuckle. , "Thank you very much," said Kyra, as she rose. "I shall'be very glad to do so if I stay here." . Bessie went with her as. far as; the archway,; and as she 'took Kyra's hand said, shyly:' ■ • ' ""•You haven't told me your name yet; mine is Bessie, Bessie Nolly; but I'm always called plain Bessie." "Most inappropriately!" Kyra said, with the smile which had helped to win poor Lance's heart. "Mine -is Mary, Maty Burns. Good-bye!"' - "Arid you will come again?" ' "Indeed I will, and thank you responded Kyra. 1 • "'*'..'", ?■-:■■ '

(To be continued on Saturday next.)

[ALL BIGOTS. RESERVED.]