BY THE WIT OF A WOMAN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLII, Issue 12955, 26 August 1905, Page 3 (Supplement)

BY THE WIT OF A WOMAN.

BY A. W. MARCEQKLVr, "> Author of. "A Courier of Fortune," . "-When I Was Tsar." " By Snare of Love," " The Queen's Advocate," etc., etc, ' ' [COPYEIGHT.] ; CHAFfER Vll.—(Continued.) Hh'NfiiK'iTK, 1 have been in communionlion with Paris since 1 saw you, and a special messenger is now on his way here to me with full tidings. Let us be frank with one another. You promised to advance my fortunes; Count Gusfcav has made the same promise—why then should you try to deceive me? It is not playing the game fairly."' '' 1 have not tried to deceive you.'' "Henrietta!'' I cried again, this time with a laugh. "What! when you have changed your plans entirely within the la.st few hours'/'' She could not suppress a start at this, and tried to cover it with a laughing suggestion of its absurdity. " You are ridiculous—always finding mysteries," she said. Finding them out, you mean," I retorted, slowly and significantly. "Will you leave me to do this now, or will you tell me frankly'.''' " There is no new plan." " You will find it not only useless but unsafe, to attempt to deceive me. I know already much of the new plan, arid within a few hours shall know all." She had been already so impressed by the discoveries I had made that she was quite prepared to believe, this bluff, and she was so nervous and agitated that she would not trust herself to speak.

I paused some moments and then said with impressive deliberation: " Heiiriette, our relative positions here are changing fast. I came here that yon might help me to push my fortunes. I know so much and am so much better and stronger .player than you, that either I shall leave you altogether to carry my knowledge to those who need it badly., or 1 shall stay to protect you and your fortunes from the man who is threatening both. Think of that while I go upstairs to my room; and think closely, for your future—'.tin or success—is the stake at issue, and one false step may cost you everything.'' "' You mean to threaten me'.'" she cried, half nervously, half in bravado.

It, is more an offer of help than a threat; but you can regard it as yon please," and I went out of the room. I run up hastily to my room full of a new idea which had just occurred to me;' but fortunately not so preoccupied as to keep my eves shut. As I passed Madame d'Arfcelle's room the door was not quite closed, and, through the narrow slit, I caught a glimpse of Ernestine. She was vigorously dusting some object that was out of my line. of sight. lam accustomed to study trifles: they often. act as finger-posts at the forked roads of difficulty and point the propel way. ■ Ernestine was a very particular lady's maid indeed, and never dreamt of dusting out rooms." Why, then, wa-s she so busy? I paused and managed to get a peep at the object of her unusual industry. It was a travelling trunk, large enough to hold a big suggestion for me. I pushed the door open. "Good morning, Ernestine. I've come back, you see," I said, smiling. "Ah, good morning, Mademoiselle Gilmore. 1 am glad to see you." Ernestine was very friendly to me. I had bought her goodwill. ' •' Madame and I have been talking over our arrangements," I said, lightly. "It is all rather sudden. Do you think you will have time to alter that black silk ■bodice for me before we start? - '

-.' 'Tin afraid not, mademoiselle. You see everything has to be packed." ■"Of course it., has. If 1 had thought of it I would have left it out for you before I went, the day before yesterday." •'lf--I had known I would'have asked you. lor it, mademoiselle. But I had not a hint until' this morning." " Come up and see if we cannot contrive something. A bcrtlic of old lace might do for the time." I did not wish madamc to catch me in her room, so Ernestine and I went on to mine. We talked dress for a couple of minutes, and, as I wished her not to speak of the conversation, I said that, as the alteration could not be made, I might as well give her the dress. It was nearly new, and delighted her. " I suppose you'll be ready ■in time! You are such a clever packer. But the time is short." She repudiated the. suggestion of being behind. " I have all to-day and part of to-morrow. 1 could pack for you as well," she cried, with a sweep of her hand round the room. ''Never mind about that. 1 may not go yet." .., " Oh, no, of course not," and she laughed archly.. "They will not want Mademoiselle la Troisieme." . "Mechante," I cried, dismissing her with a, laugh, as though I fully understood the joke. And in truth she had given me a clue which was very cheap at the price of a silk dress. Instinct had warned me of the change . in the position, and now I began to under-, stand what the new plan 'was. Madam/' had made her avowal about not marry/ Karl much too clumsily: and the dustily ot that. travelling trunk, coupled with Ernestine's .sly reference to " Mademoiselle la Troisieme," was too clear to be misunderstood. They meant to hoodwink mo by an apparent abandonment of the marriage and then make it clandestinely.' 1 laughed to myself as I left the House to hurry up my own plans. Having made sure that I was not- being followed I hailed a carriage and drove to the neighbourhood where Colonel Katona lived. 1 finished the distance on. foot, and scanned the house closely as I walked up the drive. It was a square, fair-sized house of swo floors'; and very secluded. -Most of the blinds were down, and all the windows /heavily barred and most of ■them very dirty. It'might well have been the badly-kept home of a, recluse who lived in constant fear of burglars. Yet Colonel Katona was reputed a very brave man. Barred windows are as useful, however, for keeping those, who are inside from getting out as for preventing those who are out from getting in} and I remembered.. Garelh's ..statement that she had scarcely ever lived at home. Why? When I rang -~, grizzled man, with the hearing of an old soldier, came to the door, and in answer to my question far Colonel Katona told me bluntly I could not see him. .

"J. am a friend of his daughter and I must see the colonel," I insisted. . He shut me outside and said he would ask his master..

\\ ny all these precautions, 1 thought, as I wailed; and they strengthened my resolve not to go away without seeing him. But my use of Gareth's name proved a passport; and presently the old .soldier returned and admitted me. He left me in a room which I am sure had never known a woman's hand for years; and the colonel came to me. He had as stem and hard a. face as I had ever looked at; and it was difficult to believe that the little, shrinking, timorI some child who had nestled herself to i sleep in my arms the night before could | he, his daughter. The colouring pigment j ol the eyes was identical; hut the expresj sion of Gareth's suggested the liquid soffcI ness of it summer sky, while those, which I looked down at me were as hard as the j lapis-la/uli of the Alps. j " Accept my excuses for your reception, I Miss Gilmore. I am a recluse and do noi ! receive visitors as a rule; but you menj tinned my daughter's name. What do yon I' want of me?''

i I assumed the manner of a gauche, j «lupid schoolgirl, and began to simper I with empty inanity. "1 should never have taken you for ; Gareth's father," I said. "I think you j frighten me. [—I— What a lovely 'old I house you have, and how beautifully | gloomy. 1 love gloomy houses. 1—I—" " fie frowned at my silliness; and I pre- Jgu j fended to be silenced by the frown. mm To tie continued on Saturday next}, aH