WOMAN OF THE PEOPLE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 14989, 10 May 1912, Page 4

WOMAN OF THE PEOPLE .

,;.fci J, I, ■ 'i i tin irin ' I'm .'"" '' " rCBMSHED BY SPECIAL AHHAXGEMEXT.

WHAT WAS HER SECRET! BY ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT,

Author of "By Bight of Sword," "The Man who was Dead." " A Dash for a Throw. "la the Name of ft "Woman, The Case of I>ady Broadstone," ' The Queen's Advocate." etc., etc

COPYBIGHT. CHAPTER VIII. - HOPELESS TROUBLE . The interview with Gilbert Paxton convinced Elinor that the position was in many respects worse than the worst she had feared. He had shown consummate cunning and had deliberately planned so that both she and Agatha should be caught in the toils. Nor could *«he see a single loophole of escape. ; Agatha had been very weak, very .foolish, and yet at the same time very '■headstrong. "paxton's flattery had turned *lier head; she had imagined herself in love •:■- I with him; and after a few short meetings I she had married him clandestinely before 'Elinor had even a suspicion of the truth. A very short time after the marriage, »Agatha's eyes had been opened. She had itold Paxton silly falsehoods to the effect At hat she was wealthy; and the instant he 5 had discovered that in reality she had very little money indeed his real character had come out. ' Then, , when it was too late, she had turned to Elinor—the only person in the 'world in whom she could confide. Even then she had not told all the truth con'(iteming the theft of certain moneys - and Securities from hor father. ' Elinor had faced the trouble with characteristic promptitude and energy. She " -made it a condition that husband and wife Should not meet again; and. sent her sister *fnto: the country to the house of an old \*nurse, where Agatha had remained until f her child was born. w v' j . A single interview with Paxton had »shown the type of man he was? and she - ■ *<had dealt with him accordingly. He ..{ threatened kto expose everything, and % in reply she offered him the alternative of i going immediately with her.to Mr. Mur■J ray or accepting a sum of money and leaving the country. He chose the latter and she provided it, bought his ticket, and herself went to Liverpool to? make sure ■that he sailed, only giving him the money 'when the ship was actually casting off from 1 the dock. Then had come the news of the ; collision with Paxton's name among the ; list of 5 passengers who had been drowned; >and the two ' girls believed that ; the secret ' was safe for eve When Agatha had been well enough;to ; return home V' Elinor's ■! own troubles : had reached an acute stage. Her father had • been endeavouring to force her to marry a .' man she detested Wilfred Howell, a man .'■;;■' of. evil i life and hateful character, twice i her age, who was her trustee and coveted her fortune.-. Her life had become tun- .. bearable at home on this account;' and, „ she : had decided ,to leave and hide herself, "*" foaming her bread as best she could.- : This 'involved the sacrifice of-her money, as she •could not get it without; revealing. her whereabouts to Wilfred Howell. . . She had scraped together as much as : possible and was on the eve of going when -another crisis came. Her father discovered the lass of the money and securities and accused Elinor of the theft. Believing that Agatha had taken them«, to .keep Paxton quiet, Elinor had gone away without denying, the charge, and*.had left - <•» letter that her father might repay him- « self out of, her fortune. . And now!it.was plain.that all her plani ning and, care for her sister had been in ■vain and the whole Sordid story was to be to light as the result of Paxton's ♦cunning !and vilhiiny. ■:'[■ He ,; knew that i .'Apathy again; had schemed ; *that she should do so, in order.that he Imlght terrorise Her life'and drag money .out of her for the Keeping. of her terrible ♦secret. ' ' ' .' Probably he knew her husband's ,char- *:. iTacter also. Edward Carrington wa3 a man |te whom his honour was the very salt of this life. A member of Parliament, rich, jmniversally respected, with a spotless refputation.(loving his wife and doting en \ their only child, the blow would cut him ♦to the quick and not improbably kill him. .Elinor trembled as she thought of •■ all •this and groped blindly and hopelessly for 'some means of breaking the net which held them all remorselessly in its meshes. _ And it was all the worse because Agatha in her foolish, useless % obstinacy;ihad \ refused to ■•say a word to Carrington about her first (disastrous marriage, flouting as ridiculous Elinor's earnest advice when the latter.had' fcfirst heard of the engagement. .; The dawn broke and' found Elinor still "Swrestling with the problem and quite unfdecided except on one point—to get Ruth Taway immediately and: secretly. She I 'woke the child and dressed her, and, while Ithe light was still grey, hurried ' with her fto the station, fearing that, if she % deHayed, Paxton would follow and make trouble. . She found her friends at Ayrton more 'than willing to ; have Ruth; and having • >told them enough of the .child's(history, to . iput them on their guard-against. Paxton, .r,'she hurried ' back to JFraglingtoxi" in time to , igo to work in the afternoon. ,- Treherne was curious about her, absence 'in the morning; but she ; put him off with : excuses, leaving him to infer that it had to . do with the fact that she was leaving to • -•go;to::Bellfirby's.' That she was desperately troubled and agitated was ap-; parent to! everyone; and there , came a time when a very sinister interpretation . -was put upon the fact, } '■;■ Some of • the women put some awkward questions; also about' Ruth's absence from -} the creche; and in her preoccupation '' of ; -Tnind,:.; Elinor's ■; replies ; were hurried, confused, - contradictory, and scarcely "coherent. ■■ Racked by the multitude of baffling -'doubts and fears and distracted by the paralysing feeling of helplessness to grapple with her trouble, she went home in a ■{frame of mind bordering upon despair. She wanted to be alone to think; but she had scarcely ' reached" the cottage when /Mrs. Shnttleworth : arrived, her kind . Homely face clouded with hesitation and 'nervous solicitude as she asked if Elinor would see her for a few minutes. In-her>present mood Elinor,rather relented the visit. Compared with the mag.nifcudeofthe calamity which Gilbert Pax'ton's reappearance threatened, her own personal troubles seemed to be dwarfed ■ Ijnto suchinsignificance that ,-.. she felt it difficult even' to thiol? of them. . "'.." You need have no fear,, Mrs. Shuttleworth, I shall not marry your son," she ;«aid? with some, bitterness, 1 ; taking it for granted that her vk f object was to secure gome such assurance. \ .The -old lady's motherly heart '£ was '. touched by the . sight of Elinor's; grief. -; ■," You are in some desperate trouble, my.-. •dear. Can't I help you ?" and she laid "her hand on Elinor's with great* tenderness in her tone and manner. ; * * But, of course I don't wish to/intrude upon your sorrow." Tho unexpected offer of sympathy went straight to Elinor's desolate heart and she lsjd the way into her room. - i " I am a very poor diplomatist, I fear," ! said Mrs. Bhuttleworth. "I have not come to see you only on account of my boy; you have interested my husband also, and ! he , has asked me to come to you. He told me of your talk with him: yesterday. Of course my boy has told ms everything and we all seem dreadfully at sea about you. I can see that you are• grieving terribly | but don't tell me anything if you feel that you cannot trust me. -.■■-. - ■ • '," I cannot tell you anything/Mrs. Shuttlewortli. I—l wish I could,'* replied Elinor in, a very different tone from that .-.;,. she, had used at first. "I am in sore , trouble, but—it is more for others than myself." ™. "My boy hopes that you care for him. Is that so.'" Elinor sighed and shook her head slowly. "It is not that at all," she murmured desolately;.: ■ . "let mo make a confession. When I K-"^'.'"-^jßiat beard of this from Jack 1 did you a •'J4id.flot toov

you at all. you see, 1 and had not even seen you; I thought it'wasl mean that you were not different from the ! other girls who work in the mill, and that in reality you had tried to get him to marry you; and of course I—-I disliked the idea of it altogether. But now that I have seen you I know that you would be incapable of such a thing.; I know it as certainly as my boy himself. But you will not think the worse of me for having had such thoughts." Oh, no, not for an ; instant. But I— cannot i marry him, Mrs. Shuttleworth. I shall never marry. Never."! "He told me you had said that; and I think he told vou that his father and I had other thoughts for his marriage. But I have given all that up; arid I believe my husband would also—in time. You believe that Jack cares for you very deeply? You know that, don't you?" > " Please, please," murmured Elinor distressfully. '•■•":':.' ■■'-'■;*:"V£-' v ' ■(■-■ " When a man loves as he does it may either make or mar him, Elinor; and the welfare of my boy is nearly all the world to me," said the old lady gently. "I cannot, I cannot," cried Elinor hopelessly. ' :'■■■•"'■ "And vet vou : 'care for him. I can see that. He thtoks there is some reason connected with vour life before you oamo here that stands in the way. He does not ask you, to tell him what it is. Ho trusts you impiiciUv; but he did think that perhaps you would like to confide in me, if once 1 could convince vou of my sympathy. But I would not urge you against your will, child." .'-.• >": ~ , The tender solicitude of the old lady 8 words and looks and manner appealed almost irresistibly to Elinor, but she shrank from the avowal. She was very strong ; but the intense longing to confide in someone, to seek advice, and to share the burden of her secret taxed her strength to the uttermost. "I wish with all mv heart that I could tell you," she sighed. ■ ■!■ .. : -i : : - Mrs. Shuttleworth saw the struggle going on in Elinor's mind. " Don't think that I would press you," she replied simply, and then sat down in silence, leaving Elinor to think out her own course. She had decided already that Jack's verdict was right, and that, whatever there might be in Elinor's life, she was as pure .as light. Whatever the cause might be which led her to adopt her present mode of life, there was nothing disgraceful. Sho was as certain of that as Jack ' himself. The silence was unbroken for a long time, and presently r Mrs. Shuttleworth's hand stole out and she laid it on Elinor's, clasping hers in a warm pressure, as if to assure her of sympathy. The tears came to Elinor's eyes at this silent eloquent assurance of help, and after a moment or two she looked up. " I will tell you one reason,", she murmured in broken tones. <"I bavebeen called a thief and could not deny it." She expected the hand which held hers to be! instantly withdrawn, but to her surprise the pressure was" increased. " '•"A.thief!" was the reply, almost in a whisper and accompanied with a slow shake of the head. "Do you wish me to believe that? If so, you must tell me the whole story. I should? be very hard to convince. I know of your work ut-re in the town; I know what that good man, Mr. Monroe, says and thinks ;of you; \ and now I know; you yourself. No, I should be very hard to convince/>f such a thing." And' she drew her chair nearer to Elinor. "Come, child, tell me. You * are very strong, but ib it not time that you told someone? Tell me. Your secret will ' be quite safe with me, for we have one thing in common—our love for my boy." " I Elinor's tears were now flowing fast. In "all, her life she -had; yearned in vain! for just such love and sympathy as were now so freely offered her, and .the offer came at the very moment when her desolation and sorrow were oppressing her heart like a burden.which weighed her down to the earth. Her head drooped and she laid* her wet face '* upon i the* kindly hand which pressed. hers so.caressingly.! • a "I know how'yon feel, . child, for I myself .have';often known the relief of tears. Try to feel that I! am just a friend. I will be that to you, always," said Mrs. Shuttleworth, smoothing Elinor's head gently as if she had been a child. i! Elinor sighed deeply, and her friend felt that she was trembling violently. "I— will try to tell you,"; she faltered. She paused a moment as if to gather strength for the task; hut before she could bring herself to speak a sudden noise of tumult : ] filled the street; the trampling 1 of heavy feet, the loud shouts of many voices; as the two women started up; in alarm at : the sounds, a volley*of stones came crashing through the window into, the room, and thundering knocks founded on the door of the cottage, followed vby >j cries ;to Elinor , to go out, mingled with abuse arid curses and shouts of "Blackleg,"" "Scallywag," •'Traitor," and "Wreck the scab's house." . Elinor understood the cause instantly. Ellery's counsels of .violence had prevailed with his associates, they had !'. decided to strike,* and ! had come to wreak their anger upon her for her opposition. Instinctively realising the danger to ' Mrs, Shuttleworth should the men discover her presence in the cottage, she hurried the old J lady into! the * further room and then turned towards the door. ,' '■': "You will not go! out to them,"!!! cried Mrs. fShuttieworth in : alarm. : ■ "I have rib! fear of that sort," replied Elinor, t and shutting her visitor into the back room ii She went, to the front door and threw it open, facing without a tremor the mob of angry, threatening, infuriated men. j ■ (To be continued daily.)