THE WAY TO WIN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13694, 10 March 1908, Page 3

THE WAY TO WIN.

COPYRIGHT. if CHAPTER XlV.—(Continued.) She went to find her housekeeper and prepare for the coming of the woman who . a .) to wait on Mrs. Dancroft. In a sense kt. was relieved that (here should be some Dili i' l close attendance on this terrible old ff .nan. At tlio same time Christine prepared herself "for the advent of another enemy. Before going to her room to dress for diuaer she sought Anne Dancroft, desiring to jnow from the girl what her mother would wish to do that evening. » Anne was in the midst of having her boxes unpacked. She had found time to ipend a fair amount of the money which Christine had provided, and all sorts of

anery were heaped about her. Like Mrs. ;ooiiiston, she was inclined to regard Chrisr, i«Ws very simple attire with a, certain $■• *Junt of scorn. Certainly there was noth- " ./vdiiiut Miss Fielding's black garments t rT~''' ft that she possessed such vast ISPI *:1 -Miss Dancroft had been quick jo SoWA hat Christine did not wear a single jes She was sjhrewd enough, however, to realise that tbjbugh she herself was handsome in a way, there was something about Christine Fielding which gave her an attraction which she, Anne Dancroft, would probably never possess. . This annoyed the young woman, and served to keep alive the sentiment of dislike : which, according to her mother, was the proper feeling she*-, should entertain for Henry Fielding's daughter, the truth being "that Anne, though she, was selfish; and grasping, and the . illu- : sions of youth had been knocked out of her long ago. was not really badoatured. She professed ignorance now as to what her mother would wish to do, but condescended after awhile to go and find

When she came back with the information that Mrs. Bancroft was tired, and would .•emain in her room, Christine gave a great sigh of relief. She was destined, however, ■ io have no lengthened spell of rest. As she * Hid Anne sat at dinner later on, Miss Danyoft very smartly arrayed and cautiously watching Christine at every turn to see how she manipulated the difficulties of various dishes, a message was sent down jo "say that Mrs. Dancroft wanted to speak v jo Miss Fielding after dinner. "You had better go and get it over,'.' / Miss Dancroft said briskly. "Mother's a rare one for keeping on, and if you didn't go to her she"d as like as not come down." Christine's face had flushed and now was very pale. She said nothing, however. Eating with her was a pretence, but Anne enjoyed her dinner thoroughly, that is to say, she would have enjoyed it if Casson and.the two footmen had not been in the room. She managed very well, all things considered, except when she upset a glass if claret; and she grew talkative when by - and-by the servants withdrew and she and Christine were alone. It ; was evident she had no intention of

speeding her life in a quiet countrified •fashion, evident too thai she expected Miss -Fielding to launch her into such society as there was round and about Hunston. Though she was common and her speech every now and then made Christine wince, there Mas something human and natural fcbc-ut the girl: and unconsciously Christine found herself turning to "the thought of making a friend of Anne and so helping the ; Situation. - ■ v • The fact alone that Miss Dancroft never spoke Henry Fielding's name argued that she .was fsce to a great extent from the tesentfiii'-ariinihs which ran " like' poison through the veins of her mother and broth-

Whilst she was still chattering: a second message came to her from Mrs. Dancroft. "Miss Fielding was to go to her at once." ; Casson gave the message with all his usual deference. It hurt the servant to see the hurried way in which his young mistress rose from her seat.

'•..;'This maid who had brought him the message from Mrs. Dancroft had exclaimed at the queer nature of the old lady. "Seems queer* like in her head, that she do," this girl said to Casson, "sending for Miss Fielding, just as if she was a bit of a schoolgirl. They're a funny lot that's what I think they are. What do you think, Mr. Casson?"

Casson had rebuked the girl, but in his heart; he hud agreed with her. ■ They were a. funny lot! There was something about the coming of these people that he did not like, something which boded good for no one in Hunston. The day before he had congratulated himself when Sir George Burnstone had gone away in such a bad'temper that Miss Christine's

marriage appeared to he a matter for a remote future; but he told himself now that he would infinitely - prefer a man like Sir George to rule at Hunston than the present arrangement.

"And the worst is these have come, and who knows when they'll go," Casson pondered to himself. "There's a look in Miss Christine's «yes that makes me feel worse than I felt even when the poor master died. Id be right glad to see Mrs. Dudworth down here, that I would! It don't seem to

me proper as Miss Christine shouldn't have someone to be with her now, someone as belongs to.her, for it's pretty sure whatever has brought this party along, it ain't a reasn to mean happiness to Miss Christine !'-''. •

- CHAPTER XV. SIR GEORGE GOES TO UUKSTOX. ■ Three or four days later Sir George went down again to Hunston. His complacency was entirely restored. He had received sermi letters Imm Christine, in all of which the girl lei him realise that she would work in with his will. The man had hardly so much submission. R He had only seen Mrs. Dudworth. once. Me had been summoned to Ireland, urgently called by her husband's sister, a woman to whom she was dearly attached and who was seriously ill. It was a great regret to Margaret Dudworth that she could not be *™ Christine at this time. t You know," she' said to George Burn- , Roue, "she is riot alone at Hunston. There 're some people with her mow. I cannot quite make out whether they are connections of her lather's or not, 'but evidently they have some claim on Christine, and I think this is the business about which she "tote to you." , "was not a 18 " 1 " matter to Sir George w be told that any connections of Henry Yielding had cropped up, for despite the great advantages of his marriage with Chrisraw he never lost sight of the fact that her tthers beginning had been humble and mysterifniSj and his real status an inferior one. If poor relations are gong to worry n«\ he said, "there is the more reason tnat some one should take care of her." •And in this sentiment Mrs. Dudworth entirely agreed ; nevertheless she felt anxious, '" r ''High Christine had told her nothing ? t' she felt instinctively, or in- • "', -/Jl' that some great trouble had come [^o|S'; l'sbf'e. brought in all probabiliy. f *"\;V ■ e people who were now staying v,| th WJ&- - ■ as i can leave Ireland," she ™sed, "1 shall go down to Hunston myself. I don't think Christine would be wildly imposed upon, but her attachment to *>«■ father was so extraordinary that it l °uld open the way for unscrupulous peoPtjko. trade up;m such a sentiment." Christine had intended to meet Sir George Bt the station in the car herself; but already she had been taught a lesson, that er Movements were not her own to command.

..Mr;-. Bancroft had expressed a wish to that afternoon, and further had orderfa Miss Fielding to accompany her. Therewe when Sir George reached Hunston lie lounri only Anne Bancroft, whose air of wing absolutely at home surprised him disweeably. Neither was he attracted by *« S n-' loft '- appearance. He found her TODallircly common.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

v BY MADAME ALBANESI, nt l,or of " Capricious Caroline." " The Wrongest of All Things," " Susannah and One Other," " Love and Louisa," Etc.. Etc

however W Waste , much attention on her, waTfctr. ' ff bU^ l>ac t d *° and *"> » the hall waiting for Christine to return Her absence roused all his old impatient ZX - Lr y i7f e " she knw he ™* coming she should have been there to receive

t,ini Cn V l *,?"™? 6 fina % arrived it conSi: nl y Ml ' Sl Bancroft J and it was the hnrS i° + g xJ. e Slr QeM »e W»e message the mS\* h S M,Bs , Fieldi *g had got out at She j?oundl She Prcforred to ™* through u.i 8 i r Sf° r r e i" a mood ripe "'' anger when he set forth to go and meet Christine, but as he saw her coining tow * him his feelings were abruptly changed. Tosa? that he was 1 startled by the difference in &£ ; V r Uld , I be to describe his feelings inadequately. Her appearance gave him a shock.

Christine walked as though she were veo r V hi every limb. Her face in the broad black hat. she wore looked thin and colouress. btie advanced some time without, seeing him, and in that instant George Burnatone wasi well repaid for all the discomfort and vexation he had experienced. There was no mistaking the significance of the light which Hashed into Christine's eves or the colour which, rushed into her cheeks. It was over again such a moment of submission of response, as had come when lie had spoken of his love that bygone niyht on the river and asked her to be his wife. She stretched out both her hands in involuntary fashion to the man, and lie, moved at once by the simple pathos of the action, drew her close to him and murmuring her name tenderly stooped and kissed her. ,

And at this very moment James Bancroft, whose visit was unexpected as far as Christine was concerned, coming along from the village in a swinging fashion turned a corner and saw them together. Just for an instant Dancroft paused and his face was livid, the next he went on his way and strode past, neither looking at them o<vouchsafing any greeting to Miss Fielding. The sound of advancing steps had roused Christine from a brief spell of consoling sympathy amounting even to happiness, and as she looked round sharply and saw Dancroft her face was hot with colour, and her heart hot with shame.It was not a sense of humiliation from modesty alone which held her, it was the sweeping back of that intolerable shame which sight of this other man signified. For the coming of Dancroft at such a moment carried indeed a weighty significance. It recalled her from what might have been to what really was. It confronted her suddenly with a new and a harder duty, the task of holding the happiness which seemed to her only possible through George Burnstone's love, and still remaining protector of the secret a her father's past! (To bo continued daily.)