LOIS ERCOTT.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXVI, Issue 3311, 18 December 1897, Page 1 (Supplement)

LOIS ERCOTT.

BY KATHARINE S. MACQDOID. (Author of ‘ Patty,’ ‘Appledore Farm/ 4c., 4c.). Ail Rights Reserved. CHAPTER XIX. flight. Lois breathed a long sight of relief. She ha<J said good-night much earlier than usual to Mrs Johnston and had gone to her room saying she had a head-ache, then, locking her door, she put a few necessaries into a bag, put on a shabby hat and a long wrapping cloak, and started for the Lugano railway station. It was dark, but she managed to find her way without having to ask questions. She had gone into the booking office without any show of timidity, she wore a thick veil, and her tall figure pushed its way into the waiting-room, where there wore only a few fellow passengers for the night train to Paris. .... ~ Lois gave that sigh of relief when the train rolled off on its way. There was only a poor woman and her son, a boy of about twelve, or so, in her compartment, she had decided to travel third class, to avoid notice. The woman stooped down and pulled off her clumsy leather boots, then she dived into the bag she carried for a coarse pair of carpet slippers, which she put on, she then tied a lilac woollen handkerchief pver her head, and leaned back in her corner to go to sleep. The boy, who seemed already half asleep, yawned and groaned, then snatching up his mother’s bag, ho dropped it on the floor, stretched himself full length along the bottom of the carriage, and put the bag under his head, he soon snored loudly. , Lois could not sleep, the excitement of the day still throbbed in her pulses, neither peace nor rest could come to heart and brain, they were both full of revolt. Her. father’s answer to Mrs Johnson had arrived that morning at Lugano. It contained a brief but decided refusal to give his consent that Lois should begin her studios. It said that he would start in a few days for Lugano, to take his daughter back to London. He apologised for this abrupt removal of her from Mrs Johnson’s care, but he said ho did not wish to burden her with the care of so self-willed a girl as Lois had proved herself. . , , The letter was marked ‘ private, and Mrs Johnson had tried to read a part of it aloud. But when the girl found that the widow began actually to side with her father, and heard her counsel patience and submission, she felt suspicious, she put out her hand and took the letter and read the announcement of her father s coming. Mrs Johnson put her handkerchief to her eyes, and told Lois she had not expected such a rudeness from her, she said she had been most unjustly treated both by father and daughter, and that she, perhaps, deserved to hove this vexation brought on her because of her quixotic devotion to Lois. At this the girl had rushed out of the room in desperate indignation, she was far more angry with her friend than she had been with her father; her father was unyielding and unsympathetic, but he had been throughout consistent, whereas Mrs Johnson' had encouraged her, and by her manner had several times added to the girl’s firm hope that in a short time she would,take her to Paris to begin her studies. She had deceived her. For a long time all power of reasoning left Lois, she had never been so angry, it seemed as if the fury of her thwarted will made her deaf and blind. She could only walk up and down her room, her face pale and set, while her eyes beneath their frowning brows gleamed with anger. At last she sat down, and closing her eyes, she tried to think. She told herself this was a crisis in her life, and that as she handled it, the result would be either to crown her hopes or to destroy them; she could await her father’s arrival, but that meant to destroy her hopes, it would be suicidal. She could no longer trust Mrs Johnson. She said very plainly that if she had not read the letter herself, she should have been persuaded into patient waiting for a few days, and she should not have been told her father was expected to arrive at the hotel. She might be able by a judicious effort to bend her friend to her will, but she could not trust her. Even if she prevailed on her to go at once to Paris, Mrs Johnson might prove slippery, and would, perhaps, send a telegram to her father so that he might follow them. Suddenly Lois clapped her hands: the cloud vanished from her face, she felt full of hopeful energy, her doubt was swept away by a sudden purpose. She ; determined to go to Paris alone and to place Jierself under Richard Stem’s care. She told herself that Mrs Johnson must pot suspect, and that as her friend had meant to deceive her, she, in turn, must use artifice. She would not apologise, that would be lying. She went to her friend’s room at Luncheon time and gave her a warm kiss. Mrs Johnson was greatly relieved, she bad a, horror of scenes and explanations, and she considered that her favourite had accepted the situation, and had justified her own belief in her common-sense.

Lois had hardly made any preparation for her journey, lest she should awaken suspicion in the maid Therese. "She made sure that she had still more th an half the money left which her father had given her when she left London for her own spendings, it seemed to her that this would pay her journey expenses, and keep her in cheap rooms in Paris, for a month at least. Besides this precaution, she did not seem to have had a moment for thought till now, as she sat with her soundly sleeping companions in the train bound for Lucerne. She had not till now realised the risks of her journey. . How would it be, she thought,' if . when she reached Mr Stem’s lodging, she found that he was not In Paris? Bat she quickly decided that it would be easy to learn bis address, she should get the name of a respectable hotel, and send him a . telegram. He had made her promise to appeal to him if she needed his help. ‘ He is so kind and so wise, too,’ she thought, ‘ I am sure he will as if he were my father, only a good deal better than poor dad could.’, She repeated this assurance to herself more and more firmly; yet peace did not come, a strange dread possessed her, and yet she did not know what she feared. It was a relief to have to change carriages at Lucerne, and to feel sure that next day she should be in Paris, * If any one had told me that I should be glad to turn my back on Italy, before I had seen it, I should not have believed it possible-’ Daylight brought her some comfort. At Bflle she had plenty of fresh ghe rejoiced that they were not English, the d a y lengthened into afternoon, at last fell asleep. Tjyhen she waked up she saw by her pirqe tables that the train would soon reach Paris, and ghe tried to think out her, coming interview with Mr Stern; h n t she Wag jpjngry and tired, and ideas would riot gome freely. 11 am absurd to torment myself,’ she Impatiently pushed the hair from her forehead, ‘he is always pleased with everything I do and «ay, ha }S ageh ftfl Indulgent old thhig, will oqme tq me when I want them, they always do; except with dad, then they always come crooked; but that's hie fault for being unsympathetic,’ • A fellow passenger put his head out of the window, and, with a burst of satisfaction, announced that be could see the lights of Baris. Then all the .others Iqoked qut; very sqqn Lois became awqre that the train bad already entered the great station. The girl bad not asked a question, she did not wish to betray her desolate position, but she felt very sad lonely as

she stepped into the throng on the brilliantly-lighted platform. All round her porters with eager, excited faces were shouting at the lop of their voices. Presently, as she followed the stream of newly-arrived passengers, she was called on to stop and submit her parcel to the Customs officer. lie soon let her pass on her way, and she easily found a carriage outside the gates. The driver looked at her admiringly, but he raised his eyebrows when she said no luggage, and desired to bo driven to Mr Stem’s address near the Boulevaid Italien. ‘ English, English,’ he said to himself, as he drove through the crowded streets, a French young lady of that class would not venture to do such a thing, mafui, no indeed.’ (To be continued )