MARCIA DRAYTON.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XL, Issue 12210, 4 March 1903, Page 3

MARCIA DRAYTON.

BY CHARLES GAR VICE, Author of "Kyra's Fate," " Maida," "The -Shadow of Her Life," ' Better Than Life," "Love, the Tyrant," etc. CHAPTER XXXV.—(Continued.) " Yes," she assented, tearfully, -and gratefully. "All right," he said. "Now let's go up to your father." She held out her hand and he took it and raised it to his lips. "When I come back," he said, with a catch in his breath, " perhaps—perhaps you will have learned to like me— no, it isn b your liking that will satisfy me, Marcia; I must have your love, all of it, or nothing' There was something in his voice, in the eyes which looked into hers, that melted Marcia's heart, and for the moment she mistook pity for the love he wanted. She-flung out her hands to him in a kind of desperation. " I will marry you, yes; I will marry you!" she said, with a kind of sob. " Take me!" ' ' ' ;,, " It was a terrible , temptation, but Cecil was not the descendant of a long line of belted earls for nothing. There are moments when the motto ' " Noblesse oblige" rings in a man's heart and supports him. It was "Noblesse oblige" now, if ever it was in his life. He took her hands and looked into her eyes with a smile, a smile, which did not mask the fierce struggle going on in his young soul.- - ■ • "No, no!" he said, hoarsely. "That— that wouldn't be cricket! —I'll wait until I come back; then if you can say what you have said, ah, Marcia, how gladly I'll take you! But remember! You are as good as bound to mel'm on ' approbation,' so to speak, until I return to England. It's an engagement for—for a term on conditions, isn't it? But we're not bound to tell everybody these conditions or to mention the term ; it's a secret treaty, eh, Marcia? And now we'll go upstairs, if I may, and see Mr. Drayton." " Marcia understood how generously, and in a way how cleverly, he had contrived to save her from her father's blame, from his mother's unutterable reproaches. "Is it—is it fair?" she murmured. "It is quite fair," he said. ' " Ah, dearest, don't you see that while there's a chance left I shall. dare to hope ; ' and—and the mere hope's everything to me! You must leave this in my hand 3 and trust to me. Come!" They went upstairs to Mr. Drayton's room, and he leant forward and looked from one to the other eagerly, from Marcia's pale and downcast face to Cecil's grave yet smiling one. He could scarcely wait while Cecil uttered the usual greetings ; and the " Well!" left his lips with a feverish earnestness which belied the would-be cynical and playful smile. " We've come to tell you some news, sir," said Cissy, taking Marcia's hand. " I want to ask your consent to my engagement with Marcia—

" My dear boy !" almost gasped Mr. Drayton. " Nothing—absolutely nothing — give me greater pleasure ! I have seen so much of you, know you so well—and shall I say esteem and like you so much?—that if I had to choose a husband for my dear girl my choice would rest on you!" " Thank you, sir," said Cecil. " I hope, too, we shall have your approval of an— arrangement we've made. , You see, neither 1 nor Marcia want to be married immediately." Mr. Drayton's face fell, and he frowned apprehensively. : " I'm a bit young for one thing, and, for another, Marcia wouldn't like to leave -you while you're, ill." " I shall be well and strong in a very little while ; this— good news will restore me quicker than anything could do ; for I know that Marcia's happiness is safe with you, my dear Killarney!" " Thank you, sir," said Cecil. " But that's not all. I've had an offer of a berth from Lord Mildmay, to go on an inquiry for him, and I don't think I ought to refuse, for Marcia's sake. You see l I d like to show myself worthy of her."' Mr. Drayton nodded. The great name of Lord Mildmay carried weight with the old worldling. "Yes, yes!" he assented. Lord Mildmay ! My dear Cecil, I congratulate you! A special mission, eh?" " Well, that's putting it a bit thick," hesitated Cissy ; but Mr. Drayton went on with evident , gratification: "It's a, beginning anyway. There's no reason why you shouldn't regard it as such ; there's no knowing to what it may lead, with your great, your very great, advantages. A protege of Lord Mildmay's can go any distance. My dear Cecil, I see the Garter glittering in the far, perhaps the near, future; a Killarney once held it, you know." "I know, sir." Mr. Drayton nodded. " The Garter! The Foreign Office itself, perhaps ! Yes, yes! Of course you have accepted?" ,■ " I will do so," replied Cecil. " I shall have to start at once, unfortunately ; and— and our engagement— have decided that it had better not be announced until I return." . . '

"Eh?" Mr. Drayton bent his brows. "The public announcement? Ah,, well, yes, perhaps so!" ■ \. Marcia opened her lips to speak, to tell her father everything; but Cecil checked her by a warning pressure of the hand he held,- and she hung her head and remained silent. '

" Yes, yes! When you return,' with all the eclat of a successful mission, will be the time; but, of course, all our friends may know."

. "(Better wait till I come back," said Cissy. " It's enough that we three—and my mother—should know." Mr. Drayton looked uncertain for a moment ; then, no doubt thinking that half a loaf was better than no bread, and that, while the public announcement was postponed, it would be easy to make a private one serve, he nodded his acquiescence. "You young people must be left to manage your own affairs," he said, pleasantly. " It only remains for me to bless you both in the orthodox fashion; and that 1' do— that I do with all my heart, my dear Cecil. Now run away, both of you, and forget that such a troublesome thing as an old father exists ; or, if you remember it, remember also how happy you have made him!"

There were tears of genuine emotion in his —for we are never so grateful as when Fate obligingly carries out our wishs— he drew Marcia to him and kissed her, and shoot hands affectionately with his future noble son-in-law ; indeed, if they had paused as they left the room, they might have heard him murmur, with almost hysterical pride and gratification:

"The Countess of —Countess of Killarney!" • , '. ■ '. , •

"So it's good-bye," Marcia!" said Cissy, as they were parting, and he held her hands and gazed wistfully into the beautiful eyes which were suspiciously moist. "You'll"let me write to you ; andand perhaps you'll send me a word now and again? * And you'll .see as much as you can of my mother? I sha'n't see you again. I believe I start tomorrow night. Im to take some despatches with me to South America ; but m not even yet- quite sure. And I—l shall have a ripping time." He forced a smile and tried to put. the old brightness ■ into, - his young voice. " But wherever I may be and whatever I may be doing I—well, dearest, you know. I shall be always thinking of you! Good-bye I 1 He looked at her so . wistfully that she drew a little nearer to him, and he bent to kiss her; but, as his lips almost touched hers, he checked himself and kissed her on _ the forehead. " When I come back, ifif you give me the right lie murmured, almost inaudibly. • Then he went, find to Marcia, as she watched him striding quickly down the road, the thought came that both the men she loved—though with so • different a love !— had gone from her ; and, of course, she wept. The next , morning she received a ■ letter from the countess : ' - - - My dear Marcia, —Cecil has told me : all; and I understand ; ah, yes, dear, I understand ! But, my dear child, , like him, ' I - cannot' but hope! J But- whether that hope be' ' ever fulfilled or»not, do-not forget that; you: still have a place in my heart. JSmilue." . ;

CHAPTERXXXVI. %. <■;; ! The months passed; sometimes slowly and ■sometimes draggmglv for Marcia. She had | several letters from Cecil, boyish and yet ■ manly letters, cheerful and bright and with !no ■ hint of ? complaint. He ; was . travelling | from, place to place, kept on the wave by the A ~

■wires that were pulled in the Foreign Office. There was not one word of love in the letters ; but to Marcia, who could read between; .the lines,;; they -breathed it as a jar of pot-pourri breathes the", perfume of the rose. v ■. >

Christmas had passed and the spring had come, and with the spring something of his old cheerfulness and strength to her father, who treated her now with a novel consideration and respect due to the future Count-ess of Killarney. The spring had come and the summer was hear at hand, but it brought none of the old gladness to Marcia, She went on the river now and again ; but the stream seemed to sing a mou&niDg dirge instead of the •music which had rung in her ears when Harry and she had floated on the placid waters. -' •

Sometimes she went to lunch or dinner or garden party ; but she avoided them whenever she could, and her fathers still invalid condition provided her with an excuse. : There had been few, entertainments at the Abbey since she returned, and of late they had entirely ceased,, for it was known that the Countess of Arrondale was not strong i and that she was going to become a mother. The prospect of an heir to the title and vast estates was discussed with bated breath and keen interest; and whenever Linda drove out she was greeted with respectful sympathy, which was intensified by the fact that her child would in all probability be born during the absence of her husband. For no news had come of Lord l4rronda-le, .who had . passed from the world's ken so completely ; and the mystery of that strange disappearance increased the interest ,in the coming event. One morning, as Marcia was standing on the landing-stage feeding the swans before breakfast, she heard the bells ring out joyously, but she scarcely heeded them, for she was thinking of a letter from Cecil which she had just received ; and blaming herself bitterly because she could only write a few cold lines in response because, try as she would, she could not bring herself to write lovingly. As she turned away Susan came running from the house. " Oh, have you heard the news, 'miss?" she cried, 4 in a flutter of excitement. "There's a'little baby at the Abbey, miss; it's a boy, a son and heir." ' The blood rushed to' Marcia's face, then left it pale. Eight away at the bottom of her heart there had always been a hidden pity for the woman who had robbed her of Harry. She was his wife, and; Marcia suspected, loved him. Whatever she had done —and Marcia, though she knew nothing, felt that Harry would not have left lids wife without causeshe was his wife, and Marcia could 'not help pitying the woman who had lost him, from whom he had fled soon after their marriage. And now she was a mother, the mother of Harry Seymour's child! The solemn fact almost effaced the remembrance of her love for Harry from her heart, and with her eyes full of tears she turned her face away from Susan that she might not see it.

"It was born this morning, miss, at seven o'clock," said Susan, who, of course, was in full possession of the time and all particulars. They say it's a poor, weakly little thing, miss, and that her ladyship's far from strong - . Lor', how they do ring those bells! But it's only natural, when you come to think of it. A son and heir, you see, miss; the future Earl of Arrondale. And his father not here to see him! Isn't it sad, Miss Marcia!" (To be continued daily.)

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]