A RANK OUTSIDER.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXIV, Issue 4871, 24 January 1903, Page 2 (Supplement)

A RANK OUTSIDER.

(By Lucy At. Bae, iu "The King.”) “1 dixapxifove of the engagement,_auu as i’a!.icla's cidem,. brothc:' and li;0 iicad oi the family, 1 luink my/.-pinion should count for snmoiLing. ’ Ano Lari oi AvcU.'ii ia is cl! liim.-oii on b.s ioa, and ih sn dropped fils heels pompously to emphasise liK, ii.uiuigs on the suoji.-ci of his bister’s engagement to James A a okay. "Ul course your opinion counts, Aveton; still, in this ease. 1 think you arc unreasonable.” His mother spoke with her usual suavity; but ihe snap of her fun told of suppressed irritation. •‘My dear mother, the fellow is an out sidor.” “Booh, Trancis! no one is an outsider nowadays; you are behind the times to say so; really I see no rea.-ou why i’aiueia should not many James Aiackuy.” Lord Avclon frowned. “His very name is an offence,” he grumbled. “James Aiackuy 1” The library door opened as the head of tlie family was saying the obnoxious name in tones of c-onicmpf; and a gay, fresh voice exclaimed: “Hero you are, mother; I am back early. Oh, Branchs, how arc you? You look more than ordinarily solemn.” Lord Avotou’s dried-up face stiffened. “1 think I nave some cause td look solemn, Pamela; I have just beard oi your engagement—fo—er—Afr Aiackuy.” Pamela's creamy skin became tinged with pink; she threw up her head with a haughty gesture. “I don’t quite understand,” she spoke in a measured voice. “Why should my engagement to James affect you in any way?” Her clear brown eyes looked straight into her brother's face. “A. girl of your age,” blustered Lord Avetoii, “has no right to engage herself to any man without the consent of her seniors ”

ills sister moved slowly across the room and stood behind her mother’s chair; her dark eyes flashed as she answered :

‘‘l have the consent of the only senior whoso authority I recognise.” She laid her arm round her mother’s neck with a loving pressure, and the elder lady stroked tire girl's fingers. “Dear,'' she murmured, '-‘your brother means to be kind; you must listen to what ho has to say.” ‘‘Tiro fact is. Pamela, you have been too much indulged all your life, and now you do not recognise any authority at all.” His lordship gave forth his opinion with a pompous snort, and cleared his-throat with an air of finality. Lady Pamela laughed a low, soft laugh, and dropped her tawny head over her mother's shoulder. “Mater,” the words came in a gurgle of laughter, “you hear what Francis says; yon must have brought me up very badly.” “Pamela!” expostulated the countess, but her voice had a quiver of mirth in i>. The earl straightened his thin back and buttoned his coat. "My dear mother,” he said stiffly, "since you permit Pamela to make sport of a very serious subject, there seems no use my discussing the matter any longer. 1 wish you to understand, however, that I shall not recognise the young man as my brother-in-law, and my wife and 1 shall not be present at the wedding—if it ever takes place.” The finish of the remark was levelled at Pamela. “Oh, don't disturb yourself, Francis; it’ll take place right enough.” Pamela's voice was gaily defiant, and she smiled serenely as Lord Aveton wished his mother good-day, and marched out of the room. Pamela Hung herself into a chair with an exaggerated show of fatigue. ■ "The head of the family is a distinct boro, mother mine. What are his.lordship's objections to my fiancee?" The dowager Lady Aveton fidgetted with her eye-glasses. “Francis says Mr Mackay is an 'outsider,' " she answered, "and, of course, dear, you must be prepared for a few remarks of the kind; it 'takes more than one generation for people to forget that a man's fortune was made from the saie of—er—ah ” The countess paused, "Pigs—out with it, mother,” broke in Pamela. "There is more of a man m Jim Mackay’s little finger than there is in the whole of Francis's aristocratic body,” she added, contemptuously. “1 like Mr Mackay very much,” her mother said with warm sympathy; "but, darling, you would have made a icvtljj duchess.” Lady Aveton's voice expressed regret, and Lady Pamela stooped her proud head to kiss the soft cheek. "I don't wish to be n duchess, and I wish to marry Jim.” She blushed slightly as she spoke, and humming softly to herself, she left the room. Alone in her own room, she stood before the glass and looked steadily at her reflection.

“I believe I am a bit of a snob at heart,” she murmured, "and I hate-miv-self for it; but—” she paused and clenched her hands—"these ‘pit's’ do rankle a little; and yet I love Jim—l’m sure 1 love him.” CHAPTER 11. ‘‘l saw your brother to-day, Pamela,” James Mackay announced when he called the next day. "Did you—and was his lordship gracious?” Pamela bent over a bowl of roses 'so that her face was partly hidden from her lover. “No; he was not” —Mackay’s voice was stolid. "He said I was not good enough for you. and that he did .not intend to acknowledge me as a member of the family.” Lady Pamela glanced up at him. "And what did you say?” Mackay rose from his chair, and walked across the room and hack before he answered ; and the girl watching him was struck again, as she had many times been struck before, with the peculiar grace of his lithe, well-knit figure. - "I said—” he paused in his walk close beside her chair, and'looked down at the lovely face—"that I would not marry you until I had made liifn acknowledge that I was worthy of you.” i "Jim!” She .rose and faced him; the warm blood rushed to her face, and then receded, leaving'her creamy skin perfectly colourless. “Do you mean that you care more for Francis’s feelings than for mine?” She spoke quietly, but he could hear the repression in her voice. He took her hands in his, A "Dear one, you should know better than ask mo a question like that”—his soft Scotch voice was very gentle—"hut surely you do not, wish to marry a man who is tabooed by the head of your family?” r . "I don’t care a rush for the sayings of the head of my family,” she spoke hotly. Mackay smiled. “I don’t believe you do; but I must confess I am not so'indifferent; and. after all, Pamela, there was some truth in what the carl said.” . "What did he say?” she demanded. "Ho said I had not proved myself iu any way; that I had simply walked into the large fortune made by my father, and that I had done nothing to show the world that I was fit to rank in your position,” "And you stood that kind of talk?” Her clear eyes stared at him in amazement. "Dearest, a sensible man does not quarrel with truth,” ho answered; "besides, Pamela, would you not rather marry a man who had done some decent work in his life? Ton have the blood of generations of soldiers in your veins.* and should appreciate courage and work.” The girl paused. His words found an echo in her easily stirred nature. "What could ”0U do ?” she asked.

4C J_ have volunteered for tTie front, and am sromgr ont ns one of Lord T/vrot’s scouts.” Ho held her fast as he told her, and Pamela clung to him with a low moan.

'‘Oh. Jim. I can’t hea r it.” He bent over her until his lips touched her hair. "Darling, will you wait for me until 1 win your” he whispered. And her answer came clear and ringing: "I will wait for you, if need be, until death.”

There was no doubt in her mind now as io her love tor him; notmiig on earth mattered, if only she Uiu not lose linn. CHAPXLK 111. One morning, eighteen months later. Lady Pamela loelfed herself in her icon;, ami wept Lear, of soi'iow and of ioy. The jn.iier duelled in in i hand i-rin lid- the giorm-id story of her lover's Jicr-i----i-m, am. at the same time, had spoken of the precarious euuUit.uii or the young m-ru's ine. The despatch told how Atackay had been sent out iu eliaige oi a small party of scouts, and how Urey were surprised by a company of Boers more li is;i ilounie ,iutir number; also how Mackey's quid; perception or the situation nad saved the lives cl' all his party. With a shout to ids comrades he led the way with a rush to an adjoining kopje, the J leers, surprised at file brilliancy cf the dash, hesitated—and were lost. Tho Scottish soldiers gained tho kopje, and poured a steady stream cf lire rnlo Die midst of the enemy, until the Boers wavered, and at last galloped off on their ponies, many of which were riderless. The “chief” further commended James Atackay’s conduct in having shic-kk-d the bodies of two wounded comrades, nUhongn badly hit himself iu the thigh; lie had dragged himself in front of the uncou scions men. a-nd witii the endurance cf a Stoic lie had continued to fire on tho enemy until the fight was over. “It will mean the "Victoria Cross—if he Jives,” Pamela murmured. " and then buried her face in tho pillow in a paroxysm of terror.

Ho did live, and in a few weeks was sent home a mero wreck of his handsome, staiwart self. “I shall meet him at Southampton, rmd take him to Aveton Manor,” so the Earl of Avclon, pompons even at bis best moments, announced his intentions to his mother nad sister. “The man is a hero,” lie went on grandly, “and I shad bo the first to tcli hun so; I owe Aiackuy some reparation.” “Yes, you do, Francis.” Lady Pamela ,-greed, “but lor" you Jim would never have been wounded.” “Aly dear child, but for mo Jim would never have been a hero,” her brother reminded Her; and the girl’s heart gave a line)) at the name her lover had won. Jim was stretched on a couch in Ins dressing-room when Lady Pamela was allowed to go to him, and except for his eyes and his smile sho would hardly hav? known him.

“Darling,” ho whispered, “I have won you now. Look up, dear one. I have longed to see you,” “Jim” —her eyes would not meet his—“l must tell, and get it off my mind; before you left, I did mind about the—tho pigs, just a. litue; but now—” She rested her face on his coverlet. Maolcay’s eyes wore smiling as he raised her head until he made her face him. “But, now?” he questioned. ‘“You shall finish your confession." Her 'beautiful face was crimson, and her e3'es danced mischievously. “Now,” she said, slowly, "I love” —Jim raised himself eagerly—“tho pigs!” she finished; and Jim fell back on the pilhjw .with a shout of laughter.