XXVII. THE PROMISE OF DORA.

Otago Witness, Issue 2732, 18 July 1906, Page 82

XXVII. THE PROMISE OF DORA.

By Camellia.

(Specially Written for Special Subject Week,

It waa an ideal summer's day, neither too hot, cot too cold. The drawing room windows at Winsleigh Grange were thrown wide open to admit the cool breeze into the loom. Prom one of tha windows a fair young girl of 20 emerged, book mi hand, and aaunteied down ±be gajden. patht to n bench, at the end. She had a-n abundance of bright, golden hair and a pair of forget-me-not blue eyes. The mouth was rather sensitive, though a little determined. Her sister Nan, who could be heaid strumming on the pi-a.no in the ioom Dora ha<E just left, was of a plainer type. She waa dark, with brown hair and grey eyes, and a saucy Tittle mouth. The music stopped, anrl Nan came tripping down to join her sister. They made a striking picture as they sat there, the one laughing and the other serious. Mrs Mayne, their mother, was a widow, their father having died when Nan, who was a year younger than her sister, was 12 year 3 of age, leaving the family in straitened •"ircumst&nces. They, had a good friend,

however, in a rich banker,, who had been their father's friend. He came to the rescue now, and pensioned off the luxury-loving widow. She was not living on this pension now, however, for a well-to-do brolher had died a few years later, and bequeathed all he possessed to his sister.

Nan was as yei untroubled fay admirers, tut Dora attracted them from, oill sides. Gerald W'lrb-uxton paid most attention to- her. He was a poorly-paid soldier. Dora had long ago selected him as the best and dearest to her heart; but as yet he had not spoken, a word of love to her, his poverty holding him back. Even had he asked her he wouid never have gained her mother's consent, as Dora was well aware. Mrs Mayne, having suffered from poverty herself, was determined that her daughter should not do so also, and she regarded all the girl's suitors" with a cc-ld eye. A maid came walking down the gaideai now with a card en a tray. She handed it to Dora, and stood waiting for orders.

"Mr Gerald Warbtrrton!" exclaimed Dora. " Oh, fetch him down here, please, Harvey," she said to the girl.

** However did he escape mamma ?" cried Dora, a spark of colour rising io her cheeks. " Mamma must be asleep, or she certainly would have informed him we were out. Whatever can he be coming heTe to-day for?"

The spark of colour spread to a flame as Gerald came u.p to them and shook hands warmsly with both sisters as they made room for him between them.

" I have not long to stay," he explained. " ily regiment is ordered to India, leaving nert week, and I naust lesrve> here to-night for the city." He looked at Dora as he spoke. Her face waa very pale,- and her eyes bright, denoting agitation. Nan tactly roge to the situation. " I will go and order tea to be brought down here^and I'll also water my poor plants," she said mischievously as she left them. " Dear little girl," he said, as he- watched her retreating figure. Dora looked at him 1 , surprise and embarrassment depicted on her face. He turned suddenly, and caught her eyes fixed upon him. " You wonder why I said that, don't you ? I thotight you would have guessed. Nan knew that I wanted to see you adone. Have yens no ides? I thought yon would have divined what my feelings for you are." He took one of her hands in his and stroked it tenderly. "I have no right, I know: I am so poor; but I love you so dearly I could not wait or keep the knowledge from you altogether. Do you care for me ever so little, dear — enough to be my wife? — do you?" He looked with such-tender love-lit eyes into her face, and what he readi there encouraged him. " I woukl -not take you from? your happy home just now, love. I will go- away and make a little money, and then come back to claim you; but you have not yeit said you care for me or will marry me. I*ook into my face, and tell me the truth." Dora slowly raised her eyes from the book in her lap and looked into his face. " Yoii know I love you, Gerald. You must have known it. I could not hide it."

He took her in his arms and gave her a lover's impassioned kiss. Then he set her gently back with the words, " Thank you, darling ; you have made m« the happiest man on earth to-day. I know your mother will not. conseub to our marriage; but, darling, time aad patience ever win the day. Here comas the tea and Nan. How well she timed us. dear."

A glance af their flushed faces was sufficient to tell Nan what had passed in her absence, a.nd as soon aa the maid was out of hearing she stretched out her hand to her sister, and said, "Am Ito congratulate you, dear?" Before Dora could answer, Gerald said for her, " Yea, Na.n, &ad wish" us, a gracioxis consent fiom your mother."

Nan shook her head. " I'm- afraid she will not be rery e-asy to win over. Still, you have won Dora so you may be succes=ful with mamma/ — who knows'"

Gerald laughed. "You are a little brick I" he said. " But I muat go."

He longed to give Dora one more kiss, but Xan's presence d&kerred him. so he merely said: "I shall write, Dora," and as Nan was not looking he slipped » diamond ring on her finger, and then shook hands again with Nan and walked off. "Are you happy, dear?" Nan asked, as G«ra!d went off to interview his intended mother-in-law. Dora, b'ushfed an-d answered : " Perfectly. Nan. See!" and she field \ip her left band to admire the ring. Sudderdr she pulled it off. "I rnu3tn't wear it. must I? It will annoy mamma, and I should always be subject to stcrnns- and black looks. She won't convs-n-t. of course. I wish I hadn't let Gera-ld tell her."

"It can't matter," her sister replied. "She would have to be told sc-oner or later."

"We had better go in now, Dora "aid. " Gerald h*3 gon© by tms time, and we raa-y a3 well get the storm over for it mu?t corre." Forthwith th-ey proceeded to the house, just in time to see Gerald disappearing rourd the bend in the drive. Th&r mother was slitting in the same" haughty attitude in which Gerald bad left her. &he roec a« Dora- entered the room alone. She had persuaded Nan to allow he/ to face her mother akuie. "So you dared me after aT.I," was her mother's- opening reroxrk. " I should harve thought tha,t after the years I have sipent in dinning into your ears th* fact that you. must marry money, your own common sense won-ld admit the reasonableness of my view ; but it seems you would rather fight and 1 quarrel with me to the end, know-ing all the time I shall coriquer you." " You shall not conquer me," cried Dora determinedly. "I- love Gera-ld, and though, he is poor. I shall never nia-rry any other man, no matter who he may be."

Her mother heaved a- sigh of resignation. " I can see it is of no use talking to you until you have cooled down," she said coldly, and lefr the loom. K.ui poon joined Dora. " Well, bow did you gel on?" she exclaimed hurriedly. "Oh, it isn't over yet. She wouldn't li&ten or talk to me," Dora said ; " but ail the raging and storming in the world will not shake me Irorr my decision." " Quite right, dear," said Nan approvingly. Dora woke the next morning wvth a heavy feeling at her heart. She had a presentiment that something was going to happen—something that wou'-d mar her happiness. S'ne dressed and went down to the breakfast room. There was no on* there. She turned over ■tho letteTs. and picked 1 out two for hrself, and •went to the window seat to read them. The first was- a Teaseunng little note from GetraM, the second from a. friend, asking her to spend the day at her home in the village. "When her mother cuue down and looked a 4 her own letters there was one which seemed' to ha.ve> reference to Doia, judging from the way she glanced at her a-nd then back to the letter. She read it through twice, but said nothing, and it was not till luncheon w«b over tihaiti she mentioned the matter. Bora, had gone to her friend' a, so Nan was the only listener to her mother's remarks. She waa trying to influence Nan, and coax her to her side; but Nan was not to be changed. S>he was Dora's friend, she told hear mother. Dora made her appearance in the evening. When dinner waa over 'her mother broached the subject to her. aad 2v»ii left tie zoom. " I sun going to

thrash this matter xrat thoroughly," Mrs Mayna declared, "and this is the last time I shall . reason with you. I had this morning a> letter from Mr Moran, whose kindness- to us yo-J will remember. I shall allow you to read the letter for yourself. Dora read the letter through, and handed it back to her mother before she spoke. " I don't see what it has to do- with me; you can do as you please in this matter, surely," she said. " I have no desire to say anything against it." Mr Moran had written to Mrs Mayn© to ask a. favour. His only son, he wrote, was failing in health. The long hours and close confine^ ment in. the office were telling on him. Mr Moran was a banker, and his son Maurice waa in the bank. The banker was very fond o£ his only son, and l the least, sign of ill-health: oa his part caused his iather anxiety, and he thought a change would do Mni good, ao.il he asked Mrs Mayne to receive him at tha Grange as a guest. "It is the only way we can repay Mr Motoji's kindn-ess, Dora-," her mother stcid. " I shaj} therefore write and invite him. down. Besides, Maurice would be a very good match, for you if you played your cards well." -

Dora replied: that nothing would induce her to break her promise to Gerald. She rose and left the room, as she always did w&en her mother endeavoured to force het.sinto her own way of thinking. "And so you have arrived! I am delightej to meet you, and also to have the honour af being your hostess."

This greeting from Mrs Mayne, as Maurico Motsui alighted from the train, .was evidently prepared, for the words tripped smoothly; from the widow's lips.

The young- man looked the -widow squarely in the face, as though reading her very sc-ui, before ho replied: ""And I *m quite as delighted to he your guest, Mfc Mayne. la Otis your carriage?" he asked-, with evident surprise, as the widow led the way to '» smart turn-out with a> pair of high-stepping chestnuts, for he had heen told that the widow was not in very affluent circumstances.

" Yea," she Teplied, with a. conscious little air of satisfaction. " I wonder if Dora and Nan ha.ye returned from their walk. Dora, io my eldest daughter, and rather pretty. I know I shouldn't say it ; buit N«n, the younger girl, is plain, but very obedi-ant, while Dora, being pretty, is* somewhat self-willed." " I 'shall be very pleased to make their acquaintance, I'm sure," said the young man, though Mrs Mayne's remarks caused him • little embarrassment.

Dora and Nan were both •on the steps to welcome him. Nan shook hands' cordaa-lly, but' Dora, waa condescendingly gracious vn& her voice was cold and haughty, though she w»3 unconscious of the fact. Nan reproved her after ho had partaken of tea, and retired to his room for an hour oa two of reat and peace; the journey had been a trying one for him 5n his enfeebled starte of health.

A "month passed, and still the visitor stayeS on at the Grange. His health waa completely restored. Dora- was s*ill very reserved and unbending. The fact that she w-as engaged had been kept a secret from Maurice, for hei mother declared she would die of humiliation if it became known. Three days later Dora was sitting in her accustomed seat in the garden. She smited as •Maurice approached. He fancied her smile was more -cordial and encouraging to-day. This pleased him, 'for he had some news to impart to* her. "1 am leaving in three or four days? time,** he began ; " a-ndl lam going a-way a- happier man thaai when I came to you, for Nan ha* ju>!t promised to become my wife, and she i» waiting in the house for your congratulations."

" Oh. how pleased I am." exclaimed Dora; " a.nd I only wish the wedding couid be a double one." And then she slipped on heir engagement ring, acid told him all ahon* Gerald. Some months later Dora received » lette* from Gerald, informing her he had- quite unexpectedly come into a. fair-sized fortune. His uncle, who owned a large tea plantation in India, had parsed away, and had left every pemiy he posssped to Gerald. He said ha would come home to claim her, now that tha only obstacle to their union was gone. On a bright June morning- six mon/ths ]#ter two happy brides were to be seen with two contented husbands driving rapidly towards the station an hew after having been united in, the holy bonds of wed'ock in the village church. Pwo happy couples, indeed, were they. a.nd having seen them started on their honeymoon, we shall leave them.