CHAPTER XXXVI.—Continued.

Taranaki Herald, Volume L, Issue 12253, 12 May 1903, Page 6

CHAPTER XXXVl.— Continued.

i And then she .slmdd^.el, for I.tonard was speaking j.fuily about jChalais, and his dist-; s at beir^ unable to trace any n.:laiiv»i',s or connections . It was strange, but 1 tonard never linked her with --hat one 1 vague, disagreeable iccolleciion of Gaston that he had ; ]..s mind, however, was full of such c<_ illusion, such disturbance, that tl«i> was not unnatural. "Essex said something atcut your assisting us in this matter," ; he observed, after a pause. | Cecile gave a great start. ! These words fell most unpleasantly on her ear. | "1 ?" she repeated, in low, hur- ! ried tones. "He is mistaken ; I '< know nothing of him." ! Leonard passed his hand over his 1 brow wearily, but said nothing for | a moment ; after a pause, however, in which she watched him closely, he sighed. "I am sorry you can give us no information, I^ady Randall. It seems horrible that the poor fellow should be buried in a » ".range land, with not one relative to shed a tear over his grave, I cannot i tell you how this oppresses me." 1 He got up hurriedly as he spoke, ! and walked a few steps from her. I "It is because of Gaston alone he \is so oppressed," Cecile thought [ bitterly to herself, as she followed ' his retreating form with her eyes. ; "It is she who has brought that look on his face — she for whom his heart is aching. Well, well, be pa- [ tient, Cecile ! Rome was not i built in a day ; be patient, and he ! will come back to you, and she i will be forgotten !" 1 Just at that moment Lord Es- ! sex came hastily forward and 1 spoke a rapid sentences to Sir Leonard. • Cecile could not catch his words, ' but she saw the baronet's look of [^surprise and heard him cry : ! "What ! You really mean to go | to-day," j Ceciie was all attention now. j This was too good news to be j true. This man Essex had showis himself of keen perception- too keen for the peace of mvul of i\rt marchioness. She had Pist put him down as a suave smooth-talk-ing man of but little con -science, then she had laughingly referred to him as the soul of honor, but finally she saw that he was also the inveterate enemy of wrong-doing, and as such he was a person to be avoided by her,. He had caused her many an anxious moment, for she lelt that he had seen beneath the surface and suspected, if he did not actually know, that all was not right with the marchioness. She rushed forward now with a little gasp. "Surely my ears have been playing tricks with me," she said, looking up into Lord Albert's face in a way that would have made many a man's heart beat with extraordinary rapidity, but only drew an enigmatical smile from Lord Albert. "I heard some one use the phrase 'going away,' " she went on. "You surely cannot mean that it is yourself that contemplates departure. Why, what will the house party do without Lord Albert Essex ? — particularly now when fate has arrayed its forces so bitterly against us." There was a faint sneer in her voice, but he took no notice of it. "It is quite true," he s<u <l . A. telegram has just reached me fi cm the Foreign Office comm-imluig me to start for the Co.i 1 Ji u» it without delay." "I am sorry," Ce:ilo said with her lips, but "her heart nus or. ing joyfully "I am glad— gin ol glad !" Essex saw her eyes 'ight ::*■> for a moment, and he real her s.-rrct thoughts. "She wishes me away," he muttered to hiimself. "'Can she guess that I know the truth ? No, I am sure of that. But she suspects, and would feel easier if I were away. I shall go, my lady ; but I shall return sooner than you expect. 1 Till then my revenge can waifer—for it is certain." TJhat evening Leonard drove his friend to .the station, and, as they parted, Essex said, solemnly : "I have only one last word for you, Eardsley. Don't let the marchioness become too friendly with ' you in my absence ; and, above all, dpii't worry about the present. The clouds are v pretty heavy, I s admit; but I think I -can promise -vW'-a ■ futitre~bf Sunshine: Good-by/old fellow, and remember I my words." Before Leonard could ask him to explain himself the train had start-

ecl, ami he was alone with his thoughts.

There was a hush and a stillness now about the old farm ; not a soul on the place but was full of sympathy and regret that the sweet-faced young lady should be so ill. "Sunstroke," the doctor said, as he drew on his thick driving gloves preparatory to bowling back to his pretty hoiise, four or five miles out of Shorncliffe ; "sunstroke, my dear madam. Your niece has evidently been running about without a hat or shade over her head. Youth is proverbially careless, and the heat this year has been almost phenomenal !" Matthew Armstrong was waiting outside till the smart dogcart vanished in the distance ; then he went in hurriedly to poor Mrs Chambers, who was looking pale and ill herself. She told him what the doctor had said ; it was a comfort to her to have some one to speak to, and she had grown to look upon the young man as a friend. "I have another word for it, Mr Armstrong," she said, her hynds trembling, and the tears rolling down her cheeks. "There may be no medical term for it, v «i:c it's true all the same — Edna is breaking her heart." "No, no, not that !" he cried involuntarily ; and then he was silent, for he felt that she had only spoken the truth. "What are we to do ?" he asked, after a long pause. "Ay, what ?" was Mrs Chambers' reply, given with unusual bitterness. "Hearts are not mended like brolcen china. We can only wait and hope. She is strong, but she has youth, and youth means much. Matthew Armstrong's face paled at her sad tone. "But — but surely there is — no danger ?" he asked, dreading to ■ hear his own voice ask the words, j "Do you mean she is going to die now ? No, there is no fear, of that, please Heaven ! She will live, maybe, to be an old woman — old at heart before she has advanced in years old with grief and pain ! Ah ! Mr Armstrong, you men of the world are cruel indeed ! You make sport " "Stop, Mrs Chambers !" The man put his hand. "You wrong me ! Such words go straight" to my heart. Can you not see ?—? — did you not guess" how much she is to me ?" Mrs Chambers gave a start and gazed at him through her tears. "You love her !" she whispered, after a while, ! He bowed his head. "As I have never loved before, or can again." "I am sorry for you !" Kdna's aunt said,' very gently ; "poor fellow !" Matthew Armstrong turned and walked across to the window. "Do not pity me," he said, huskily ; "to love' her is my joy — my delight. I have never had hope. My love . was born only to be crushed down. It was because of her that I left Ross as I did. It was such pain to meto be near her, and yet know she could never be anything to me. When I found her leaving also, and later on discovered that all was wrong with Leonard and herself, even then I did not let hope live. Mrs Chambers," the young fellow said, t^t pv, [assionately, "I want you to i vli.-ve this, that my love for her, is so great I would sacrifice life itself for her sake. To see her as f-1-e is now, unhappy, ill — o;i ? it drives me nearly mad. I — T U"A 1 must do something to give he«- back her happiness." (To be continued.)