CHAPTER II.

Taranaki Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 11503, 4 July 1900, Page 2 (Supplement)

CHAPTER 11.

Margaret tossed her hat down on to , the settle, and then marched Htruight upstair?, the light of battle in her eye, her slender figure drawn np to its full

hpigbt. If passionate and vehement by nature her heart was as warm as her tempT, and a kind word vanquished her at once, 'But Miss Moore was not giren to kind words. Sho tamed round in her chair as the girl entered, and taking quick note of her brilliant cheeks an<l shining eyes, she asul. with oi^e of those sneeriug laughs which stabs sensitire people like a swor<l. 'You havn'\; surely troubled youiself to put so much paint , on to-night for me ?' Margaret put her hands up to her cheeks, involuntarily! at which Hiss | Mooro laughed louder than before, and called out derisively, 'Take ctre. Even colours that aro warranted fast some* times run.' [ Disdaining to answer, Margaret sat I down at the tabl*, close to tne limp and began to work. Her patience and self- control 89emcd to annoy her coni- ! panion far more than an angry jetort, | and she shook with rage. | 'Why don't you answer,' she stuttered. ' \ 'You havn't naked me a question yet,' replied the girl. | 'Then I ask yon one now. Where were you* when I rang I' 'I was out in the garden.' 'Alone ?' Margaret looked up at her with cold stubborn eyes. 'Even the servant maids have an hour to themselves sometimes, and aro not expected to tell how they spend it, and I hare a right to the same privileges as they.' 'You have been to meet some man,' screamed Miss Mooro; 'that is why you are'so flashed. •j thought you 3aid I was painted,' said Margaret. '1 shall say what I like — but not half so much as I think, 1 daresay. You are perfectly shameless. I had yon here because I thought you were nearly starving at home; and I wanted to help a kinsman; and this is how you repay me.' 'I have repaid you by working as no servant would, for wsges no servant would work for,' replied Margaret, sternly. 'You promised my father that I should hare eigteen pounds a year. You have only givea me twelve. And yet I have not been allowed to* shirk any of my duties. I have not told mv father this, or he would liavp taken mo away, and there are, as you say, so many mouths to feed at home. 1 ♦Then you ought to be grateful for what you get here. ' 'Hard work and bard words. Because you let old Hannah have a maid under her, sho expects me to help her. I do "almost all the opstairs work.' 'And wby shouldn't you. You *re strong enought for anything, as far as ''■ that goes.' 'That may be— >but I aid not come here as a housemaid— l came as a com- ' panion. lam expected to be both, at half wages too.' 'You ought to ba ashamed to talk in that way to a poor woman.' ♦You are not poor, everyone knows that; you aro just miserly,' replied Marqnret, who norr she had begun to speak her miid meant to make a clean breast of all her grievences. You have been trying all, your life to make people work for you for nothing, because you can't benr to part with your money, although yon have plenty.' 'Who says that,' she cried.' 'Everybody.' ' Then everybody tells a lie. I have not enough.' 'Because you are greedy for gold,' pursued Margaret. ♦ You would n*ver think you bad enough. And what good will it ever do yon in tbe other world ? Yon don't give a !arthinjr. in chnrity, tho beggars are houn ed from your door; and yet you can ; t take your money with yon when you die ' 'How dare yon talk about death to me in that coarse, cruel way,' sue exclaimed in a wimpi»ring tone. 'I daresay yon think I am awfully old — young people are bo arrogant — but I am pnly sixtj, and I might live for another thirty years — I might outlive you. You will never make old bones.' Margaret shivered. •No, you won't. I see it in you fact,' continued Miss Moore excitedly, seeing her a (vantage, and pushing it bard, 'iherc'a aouiething wrong with your-

heart. I hear yon pant as you come upatairß.' Margaret was panting now, bnt she - coughed to hide it. Tbe excitement of this scene was beginning to tell on her nerves. 'You live too fast,' continued Misi Mooro enjoying the rffect she was creating, 'One day your heart-strings will •nap.' Margaret rose to her feet, in uncontrollable agitation. The elder woman laughed grimly. 'There, you see. You can frighten other people about deatb, but you don't , like it yourself. You are as white as a sheet. You are trembling all over. I believe your heart is beating right np I in your throat. I Margaret pressed her hands to her side again, convulsively, then let them drop again with a shame faced laugh. How could she be such a miserable coward as to allow herself to be frightened by thia woman ? Especially, too, as she made no secret of her motive, and gloried in its success. It was absurd — and she sat down again determinedly, shutting her lips fast. She was knitting some stockings for Willie; bat her fingers twiched so violently she dared not touch the needles, lest she should set them dancing in time to her rampart pulses. So she opened a book, and pretended to bo absorbed in its content*, turning over a page at intervals, although she never read a word. 'Shot up that book,' cried out Miss Moore. Margaret turned over another page. •Do you heir What I say ?' The girl set ber teeth aod her eyes flashed, bat still she did not say a word. 'That book is dime, you shall not touch it I tell you,' snapped the woman viciously. Margaret discarded that one then, and took ap another, which was her' o?n, and opened' it at random. Miss Moore who had given full rein to her cruel temper, and was quite besido herself by this timo, scowled darkly from the recerse3 of her arm-chair. Margaret was only wailing until her trembling legs woald bear her to leave the room, bat she wanted to leave it decent!/, and with dignity — beating an orderly retreat, instead of indulging in an ignominous flight. She knew that Miss Moore's jibes' would follow her out into the hall, and sting- her nnmetcifully and thou;h she felt it woald be foolish of ber to mind she was as sensitive as she was nervouo, and every bitter word, spoken to ber went straight to her heart. But if she could only stop her ears and ran ! In another moment she woald be able to tru3t herself, if she only kept : calm meanwhile, and once in her room sho would not leave it again until the : morning, even if her task-master rang ' the house down. Bat alas that the flesh should ba so weak when the spirit is witling. Three times she essayed to rise, but as her legs woald not support her she had perforce to sit down again. Irritated beyond all self control by girl's attitude, Miss Moore staggered to her rheumatic feet, and shambled towards the table, Margaret watching her dumbly. She would have fled fien, anyhow, if she could have been sure of getting to the door. When Mi»s Moore reached her she snatched the book from onder ber band and boxml her ears violently with it. Margaret's strength came back then; and the sprang to her feet, furious at the insult, and sj bewildered by the blow she fiardly knew what she did. But a minute later she found herself in ber own room, and fell sobbing acros* the bed, her head one wild, confused ache, her heart beating in dull, heavy I thuds. She stayed tnsro half an hoar, and then she stole downstairs, and listened at the drawing-room door. She opened it then and peeped in, in a furtive frightened way. Miss Moore lay huddled up on the floor, raotioalese, her face exp ised to the full light, and though Margarrt had neAor seen death before she recognized it at once instinct", ively, and rushed downstairs. Old Hannah was seated close to the fire, but when she turned roand and caught a glimpse of the girl's face, sho rose at once in a startled way, and caught hold of her dress. What is the matter,' she cried out brertblessly. 'Miss Moorre is dead,' replied Margaret, in a sobbing breath, and fell like a log at her feet.