Chapter XII. HER PROMISE TRUE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2209, 2 July 1896, Page 41

Chapter XII.

HER PROMISE TRUE.

By DO'llA RUSSELL.

Author of " Fo <lpriats in tbeSoow," " A Country Sweetheart," " A Man's Privilege," &c.

[OOPrEIGHT ]

The Re: cue. ADY STANMORffi- waa no fonder "' cr bad weather than other people, and she did not go down to 'breakfast in tlift beat possible - temper. Indeed, she felt annpyed with herself and everyone else, especially Belle, who was making such a fuss about the supposed faithlessness ■of her absent lover. Stanmore looked sup quickly as his sister-in-law entered. -, , ) "Where is Belle," he said, looking beyond her even while shaking- hands, and a shade of disappointment crossed his face. " Oh, she is In her own room. She has a headache, and is a little ontcof sorts." . "la she really ill?" " Oh, no. It is just this horrid weather. Who could feel well, I jhonld like to know, with the thermometer below zero and the snow drifting in all directions. Do you know, the balcony in front of my window is full of snow— it mast be inches deep. Oh, how I hate the oountry in winter. No one who can afford it should ever spend the winter in England. It is too depressing." He shrugged his shoulders. " You are a little hard on the climate. I used to erjoy this kind of thing when I was a boy, and £ don't think I mind it very much now. The snow is all very well till the thaw sets in, and then it certainly is a nuisance. Are you going to send Belle any breakfast ? " • " We'll have ours first, and then I will take her some myself. She did not seem in any particular hurry, and perhaps I shall be able to coax her to eat." " She is a pretty girl," said Stanmore reflectively as he sipped his coff ae. "So Dick Probyn seems to think." " What has he got to do with it? " " Well, I suppose he has got as much right to think of her as any one else. It is my belief that he has already made her an offer, or that he is going to do bo." " Like his cheek," said Stanmore, slicing off the top of an egg with as much fury as if, for the moment, he fancied it was that of some successful rival. Lady Stanmore smiled. "Of course Belle only regards him as a boy; his evident adoration amuses her. Still, we can't close our eyes to the faot that it would be a good match for her. She has nothing, and he is rich and his own master. She might do worse." "But if she looks on him as a boy 1 " "He is some years older than she is; but she seems to prefer older men." 11 Like myself?" " Yes ; as I told you before, I think she likes you better than anyone. But she is not the sort of girl to say ' Yes' to the first man who aaks her." " That may be— you should know best ; but it seems to me that I am not making much progress. You know I love the girl, and you promised to help me to win her, and you are always telling me not to be in a hurry and pueh matters too fast.' Now it seems to me that women like a bold wooer, and that the man who goes to work in earnest has the best chance." •'Yes, if she already cares for him; but it her heart is still to be won, it is better to go gently." " Does Belle already care for anyone? " "No, of oourse not. She has never seen anyone eligible bnt you and Dick, and I am sure she does not care for him." " Bat I suppose she has seen other men in ho: Uto. Wfcat about that fellow X saw with

her in Brighton just before you came down ? They looked very sweet that time I passed them on the beach. 1 ' " Who was that 7 Young Gilbert, I suppose. Oh, he's no one ; juat the son of an old friend. I remember Linda telling me that he ran down to say good-bye before sailing for India, which he did on the following day. You need not be jealous of him." "I am not. But it struck me at the time that there might be something between them." . ' "Then you can put away that idea altogether. I can tell you that he is engaged to someone else— indeed, I heard to-day that he was married." At this moment a sudden shower of hail rattled against the window panes. Lady Stanmore started and shuddered. "There! Do you hear that? , What a I terrible day ! I feel as if I had cold water | running down my spine. For goodness sake I poke up the fire, Stanmore, and pile on more i wood — it's one's only consolation this weather. It will be impossible to get out all day, and when I have visited the invalids I shall come and sit over it with my feet on the fender. Give it a good poke." He obeyed, and the ruddy flames sprang j up the chimney, and tfirew a delightful glow Into the room. " There, that's better. I suppose one will thaw presently. I pity the 1 people who have no fire this weather even more than those who have no food. Will you have anything more ? " "No thank you. I have finished." , i She fetched a tray from the side table, poured out a cup of coffee from the steaming urn, and arranged a tempting little meal. | •• flow I will take this to Belle," she said. " The lervants will look after Linda." Ha opened the door, saying as he did so : > "Tell Belle to get up and come down here— it -will b8 more lively than sitting in her own room— and we might have a game of billiards ; < or something of that sort to make the time pass." "I'll tell her." He closed the door, and taking up The Timea went with it to the window, as if to seek more light. Lady Stanmore found the well-carpeted stairs and passages bitterly cold. The house was too old-fashioned to be properly warmed with hot air, and the great fire in the hall, large as it was, did very little to raise the temperature except in its immediate neighbourhood. She found Belle's door ajar, and pushed it open, saying : " I think you are in the right'of it to stay in bed such a day as this. I wish I had done the same. What a pity one can't hibernate for a month or two in the winter like .the, bears and 'possums." Sbe advanoed into the room and saw the unoccupied couch. / 11 Belle 1" she cried.- . Bat there wasiio Balle td'answer." ~ " Where are you ?, I thought you eaid you would go to bed again, and so I have brought you some breakfast." Lady Stanmore put down the tray and looked round. It was a large room full of large oldfashioned furniture, and it was quite possible that Belle might be on the further side of the heavy ourtains or behind the great screen; still there was no reason why she should not answer. Lady Stanmore looked/ hither and thither, but found no sign of her niece. Belle was certainly not in that room. " She must have gone to see her mother," thought Lady Stanmore. -And yet it seemed a little strange that she should have done so, for Belle was by no means a devoted daughter, and Mrs Wayland continually complained that she saw very little of her ; and yet when the girl was with her she would generally send her away after a few moments, declaring that she " worried her." Indeed, there was very little sympathy between; this mother and daughter. Perhaps it was as Lucy said, "That no one could get on with Mrs Wayland," and the fault may have been entirely on that lady's side ; but it is also possible that there may have been faults on both sides, and that Belle habitually slighted her mother and ignored her wishes. However, at the present time, as the girl had not found her way to the breakfast room, it seemed reasonable to suppose that she was with her mother. Lady Stanmore went to the second' doordown the passage and knocked. '.< (Home in," said the invalid in a querulous tone. ' Lucy obeyed, and having inquired after her sister's health, looked quickly' round. "Is not Belle here 7 She did not teem well this morning, so I brought her some breakfast. It's in her own room." " No, she's not here. She's not been here this morning. She never comes near me if she can help it. I don't believe there is anyone in the world that has suoh an ungrateful child. Yon know what I have done for her | and all the sacrifices I have made, and now she can't even come and sit with me a bit. It is too bad". But there, none of you care how ill lam or how much I suffer. You would come to this dreadful damp place in spite of all I could Bay, and now there is no getting away. Susan says the snow is inches deep." ' "So it is, and by the look of the sky we shall have lots more. It's a good thing you are in bed just pow. I never felt a colder morning." " Oh, it's all very wall for you to grumble, but you haven't got pains in all your limbs like I have. And you do not know, what it is to lie here hour after hour, sick and alone. But there, I know none of you care for me one bit. I am a miserable, neglected woman." "How can you say that? I am cure Susan waits on yon hand and foot." " She does what she's paid for, no more. If I had a daughter like some women she would nurse me." : "Waat nonsense you talk, Linda. You know we came here to give Belle a chance with Stanmore, and to break off that disgraceful affair with young Gilbert. Well, the latter's done, and the former will be done in due time. But if the girl were to shut herself up here with you what ohance would she have with Jaok, I should like to know 7 Ob, no, you "inußt net aspect !£« Indeed,

I consider this illness of yours quite providenial." . . "Do you ? I must say I don't. You can't tell what I suffer. I wish you had the oain for a bit." " Oh, you know, mothers must suffer for their children, so you had better take this in good part. And there's one thing you must remember— Jack pays all the bills, doctors' and chemists' included." " I wißh he would pay my dressmaker's," groaned the invalid. " Perhaps he will some day. At least he'll pay Belle's, and that will go some way towards it; and a few of yours oould be added— he would never know it. By the way, I have two or three letters for you in my pocket now." "Then you can throw them behind the fire ; they are sure to be from duns. I never get much else in the way of correspondence. . I wish Belle knew what it was to be tormented by them. She would be glad enough to many Stanmore, or anyone else who, would give her a good position." ' "Oh, she'll see it in time, never fear. Leave it to me." . " That's what you always say. And lam sure you have had all the business in your bands from the first. I never interfere." "Well, mind you don't. 'Women are kittle cattle to drive,' as my husband used to say. Belle requires a great deal of managing." " She's an obstinate little monkey, that's all I know," said the fond mother, groaning as she turned in bed. *! Gitls are all alike," said Lady Stanmore sententioualy. . "They never know what's good for them till too late. They Are like I men, they want managing, only you mu*tnot let them see the strings. It's a pity they have not more senee» but they are made that way. Belle would have ruined her ■ whole life if we had not interfered. And | some day I suppose she'll be thankful." i "I don't believe she will. There is no gratitude in her; I often try to show her all I have done for her and point out what she might do forme. But it makes no impression." ! Lady Stanmore laughed. ! ' " You preach too much. Let her read all your dunning letters and consult her as to how you are to pay ths bills. That will disgust her with poverty. By the way, I wish I knew where she was now. Stanmore wants her to play billiards with him. " She's not here." " So- 1 'see. I must be off , and look for her. She said ehe would not get up, but I suppose she changed her mind direotly my back was turned." " She is down in the diniiig room before this you may depend. Shake •my pillow before you go and ring for Susan. I wonder whether the doctor will come to-day or if the weather will be too' bad." i Lad; Stanmore shook up- tbe pillows and rang, the bell, waiting till the maid appeared. " Have you- seen anything of Miss Way-" land, Susan?" ehe said. ■ " No, my' lady, not since I -took her in her tea and lighted her fire. She said she would not get up for a while, and told me not to disturb her." " So she told me, but when I went to her room just now she was not there." "Oh, she's ail right," cried the invalid queruously. "Oome here, Sasan, and put I the bed straight — it is so uncomfortable." Lady Stanmore departed, and on her way downstairs looked again into her niece's room. A feelipg of anxiety for which she could not account took possession' of her and she felt strangely refltlees and troubled. What bad become of Belle 7 \ The hail had ceased, and the Enow beat against the window in a fine white mist, whioh blotted out the whole landscape. The fire was very low. Lady Stanmore made it up, not knowing why she did so, for if Belle had decided to rise superior to her trouble and go downstairs it was not very likely that she would return to her room for some time. But the eider lady obeyed a kind of instinct, and it was well that she did. When she got downstairs Jack was nob in the dinicg room, neither was Belle. For a moment she thought' he had carried out bis plan of playing billiards, and then she remembered that Belle had had no breakfast, and she felt sure that he would not allow her to, play without. . A servant oame to remove the things. , " Where is Lord Stanmore, Benham ; do you know?" " I believe he has gone out, my lady. I Heard the front door bang a few mirfutes ago, and Jim says that his lordship went out." • ' <Mn all this snow 7 How foolish 1 But I hope be put his bodts on and his overcoat." " I don't know, my lady, but I think not. He generally puts on his boots in his own room, and ho likes them aired. He did not cocce in for them or ring for me to bring them ; and I don't think he put on a coat either." "How careless; he will be wet through in no time I Oould not you follow him ? " "It would be as much as my place is worth, my lady," said the man, continuing his task. Like moat of the other servants he had been at Redvers during tbe late lord's time, and remembered Lady Stanmore as mistress, and did not resent her remarks and suggestions as he would have done those of a stranger. Lucy took up the paper and seated herself before the fire with her feet on the fender stool. " I wonder where they have both got to," she said. Bonham thought this remark was addressed to him. "Most likely he's gone to the stable, my lady. Oq6 of the horses was ill yesterday." ' Yes, that was no doubt it. . But why should he go without his boots and in such a harry? And then where was Belle? She could not have gone out. Where Was she ? " Have you Been Miss Wayland this morning, Benham ? " 11 No, my lady, not this morning;" The man, having finished his task, retired. Lady Stanmore tried to read the paper, but could not. She jumped up and went to the window. The snow was falling thicker than ever, she could only see a few feet before her ; The whole world was smothered in a white

mist. Gradually as she watohed she saw n small procession of dark figures disengage itself from the mist. " Great heavens I What has happened 7 " she cried, and flew to the front door. Meanwhile what had happened was thist After bis sister-in-law left him, Stanmore stood by the window, dividing hiß attention pretty equally between his paper and tbe outside world. There is something rather fasoinating in ft snowstorm— the whirl and flight of the white flakes, their swift, soft descent, and the way they pile themselves on every leaf and twig, ohanglng the whole appearance of the landscape, giving it a new and weird oharm. Jaok watched the flakes, thinking of the time when nothing would have pleased him better than to rush out into the midst of them and rejoice in a grand game of snowball. " I think I should like to go out now," he said half regretfully, because be knew he Could not* enjoy it as he had onoe done. At that moment a figure passed the window, walking swiftly with head bent down — a young slight figure olad in a waterproof and a tiny fur oap. He recognised it at once. Belle 1 Where was she going ?• Presumably for a walk in the snow. What : a strange fanoyl And after all a catural one, for had he not just been thinking of doing the same ? He would accompany her. ■There was no time to wait for his boots, for she would soon be out of sight, and it would be impossible to traoo hor in the rapidl/failing snow. So throwing down his paper he ran into the, hall and down the 1 steps, ' which were very slippery. v " Balle I " he cried, •• wait for me/.' But she paid no heed, and was nearly out of sight. He had never known her walk so quiokly. Doubtless the storm had something to do with it, for it was necessary to move swiftly in order to keep up the circulation. Up one path and down another— where was she going 7 Surely not for a walk. Her feet seemed winged. Sbe moved without effort, while he panted on behind. The cold had caught his breath. He halted a moment to light a cigar, hoping to keep It out. In that 1 moment she gained upon him. "Belle, Belle 1" he cried. But the wind oarried his voice in the opposite direction, and she did not hear or heed. Her footsteps never wavered. In truth, she felt neither the cold nor the snow; and though the storm beat on her exposed head she was perfectly unconscious of it. The storm that raged in her heart overpowered all else. Sbe no longer kept to the paths, which the snow had nearly obliterated ; ehe was walk* ing at random over the turf of the lawn in ' tbe direction of the lake. ■• Her slight figure seemed to ebim over the' soft surface of the enow, whereas his heavier tread was impeded by the drifts, already! several inches deep. ■ " Belle 1 wait a moment. Why are you in such a hurry 7" he panted. . "My goodness I' Do you see where you are going ? That is . the lake. The ice is thin— it will not bear . you. Stop 1 stop 1 1 say. Stop I " ...^ He began to run. Now she was on the bank— the low bank, overhung in many parts with willows and water alders, now leafless, every twig a resting place for a heap of powdered snow. It was a big sheet of water many acres in extent, partly natural, partly artificial, tbe bottom many feet deep in mud, as Stanmore knew well, since he had arranged to have it thoroughly cleaned in the spring and restocked with fish. Just now the surface was covered with a thin coat of ice, not strong enough to bear a ohild; The snow lay all over it, forming a level tempting surface. Belle stood on the edge and appeared to hesitate for one moment. Then sbe walked boldly forward, and by the time she had gone a few yards he was on the brink. He did not dare to follow. His additional weight would only precipitate the climax, and for the present the ice held, and it might be thicker than he thought. " Oome back I Come back 1 " he yelled frantically. And the wind blew his voice, back into his teeth. She ran on. The ice began to crack. She stopped, hesitated, half turned. The delay wad fatal. Oraok— brack— crack was i heard in all directions. The whole sheet of/ ioe trembled. ' ' . ' , He stood and looked on, fascinated with; terror. , . She stood for one' moment, a dark figure against the surrounding whiteness/ Then the water was round her feet. Shs threw up her arms with a despairing cry and disappeared in a yawning gulf of black water. All around was the rotten quaking ice, on which no man could find footing for a moment. What was he to do ? How could he rescue her? Juftt at the edge of the lake was a large building, used as a boat bouse and tool shed. He ran there, knowing that he should find a ladder and rope. Fortunately two gardeners who oould not find anything to do outside were there, sorting and docketing seeds, ko. In a few words he explained what had happened. They knew at onoe the only thing to be done, and seizing the longest ladder, ran it out over tbe ice, steadying it as well as they could. They bad some difficulty in guiding it over the hole, and still more in finding somethingon which to rest it. Fortunately the ladder was long, and the outline of the lake very uneven, and they were able at last to rest it on the branch of a strong willow which bent a long way over the water. AU this time the snow was falling, steadily falling, on the smooth white surface, on the little footprints, and on the space of open water, whioh looked as blaok as ink. , It was on this spot that all the men's eyes were fixed, and there a little fur cap spun round and round in the eddy. Stanmore fastened the rope round his waist, and told the men to hold it firmly, paying it out as required. Then he' stepped boldly out on the rungs of the ladder. Tbe wood bent and the ioa below oraoked ominously, but the weighb thus distributed was not too great,; and ha knew that If he could keep his head stead/ there was no great danger.

When he reaohed the hole he. knelt down cautiously on the ladder and peered into the black water. So far us he had seen Belle had not risen at all. Perhaps the icy water had seized on her heart, paralysing her energies, cr perhaps— worst thought of all — she had been caught in the ooils of some gigantic Water weed or sucked down by the clinging, glutinous mud. . ■ He peered anxiously into the water. Yes, he caw something— a dim figure. It rose to tbe surface just beyond the reach of his outstretched hand, and he saw Belle's white face and dark streaming hair. Further fend further he reached, nearly overbalancing himself. The ladder tilted ; the ioe oreaked and groaned. Only a few inches— but, alas, he could not do it ; and again she sank. He called out directions to the men, and still grasping the ladder with his left hand, he let himself drop over the edge into the icacold water. Oneehudder aa the death-like Btream closed over his limbs,, and then be, began to feel cautiously round with his right hand before letting go the ladder. Stanmore knew well that he who 1b sucked under the ice has but a poor chance of finding his way out, and that Belle's life, as well as his own, depended on his escaping this danger. He let go the ladder and struck out, or father down. He grasped something,- hair or clothing he could not tell, and 'it did not much matter. He rose, avoiding the muddy bottom, and saw her death-like face below his hand. He quickly lifted it above the water, raised her slight figure against bis right shoulder, and yelled to the men to pull. It was impossible to get on the ladder again burdened as he- was, but he contrived to catch hold of it, and directed the lighter of the two men to come along as he himself had done ; and then with a mighty effort he hoisted the" half-drowned girl out of the •water, and the gardener caught her. The ladder bent, but did not break, and the man went cautiously along with hio burden. When they were safely on dry land Stanmore iwung himself up and followed them.