CHAPTER LII.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 13428, 20 March 1907, Page 6

CHAPTER LII.

(MORE THAN HOPE.— AT CLARE- ! LE-MONT.

A man and a girl were straying I through the woods at Edendale.

It was a year ago that Ernest Beaudesert was married, and he and his wife jwere at Clare-le-Mont entertaining guests.

Everil, Savile and some others were staying at Edendale, and in a few days Savile was to go on to Clare-le-Mont; a little later the Beaudeserts would be at Edendale. An hour ago a letter had come for Everil. She did not know the writing, but she knew the Beaudesert crest on the seal and the postmark was Clare-le-Mont. Surely the letter was from Margherita. Everil had not seen either her cousin or his wife since their marriage. They had been a good deal abroad, and she had contrived to keep out of their way without seeming to do so.

"Dear Everil: We have only just heard that you are staying at Edendale. If you have no other engagement will you come to us when you leave? — Freda says it will be in a few days. We want you to stay for at least a week — longer if you can spare the time. if you and Austin are leaving &\ the same time He can escort you, perhaps; but pray write and say we may expect you. With love to you and Freda from all the circle, — Yours faithfully, Margherita Beaudesert." Underneath was written in another hand :

I " You really must come, little cousin, if you possibly can. — Ernest." '

"If you possibly can!" Could she? Everil wondered if she was fickle, that she was able to think with actual pleasure of going to Clare-le-Mont and meeting her cousin again and his wife! that she could feel a glow of gratitude for Margherita's cordial, quite sisterly letter. Yes, she would go; she could go. But she had gone out into the, woods to muse over it to think over many things, in a frame of, mind not all sad, though deeply tinged with sadness ; and Austin Savile, seeing her, had followed. She did not mind, she rather liked to have him with her.

"I am going to Clare-le-Mont when I leave here," she said, breaking a silence which both felt embarrassing; but she, having less at stake, had more self-command. '

"Is that so?" His face brightened. "I am very glad; then I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again very soon?"

She smiled, hesitated a moment, then gave him Margherita's letter. , She saw his cheek flush as he read it.

"You will let me escort you?" he said, with a sort of subdued eagerness.

" I. shall be much pleased," her eyes

drooping a little. • ' _ . , Svaile took courage. Surely, in giving him that letter to read, by her words and manner Everil meant to offer him -some hope. He had, been^very patient, he had not approached he.r as a lover all ' these long' months. ' *

" It will be a great happiness to me," he said; and then, quick and low, "Miss Dane— Everil !"

She started, flushing, and made a hurried step onward; but his touch on 1 her arm stayed her.

"Forgive me," he said. "Have I not been patient? And even now it is so little I ask — only that you will let me try to win you. Surely you will grant me so much."

She stood silent, with downcast eyes and changing colour, struggling with herself.

I Could she dare to fling from her a heart so staunch and faithful? Did she wish to do so? Had she a right to refuse a man the chance of winning love unless she could be perfectly sure, not only that she had not now, but that it was not possible she ever should have, any love to give him in return ?

But be was waiting— waiting in buj. P9me) and Evwil h«d nothing of the coqmtte in \m\ to be wuti to & man twvw ewmfred to her,

She raited \m «y§ i fw •» \mUnt tP his, then djpoppd ihtißi "&fr, gtvlfe;" iritt »»&, with, in Gffwfcj "I ftro *m t viry gratefrl to you i you give me for more than I de« wr?e. I 4on't— l don't love your«-J» "Ail! no," ho pleaded, at she foU teredj "but give me hope?"

"I might learn "-'her head bent lower — "to care for you."

Savile caught her hand in his.

"Then you will be good to me?" he said. "You will let me try to win you?" "Yes." And she did not draw her. 'hand from his, but let him kiss it devoutly.

Perhaps the time when she would give him a yet sweeter answer was not so distant after all.

" Welcome to Clare-le-Mont, little cousin," and ISveril's hands were close held in her cousin's, as he stooped and pressed a loving kiss on her forehead.

Ami if she flushed and drooped her eyes it was because oi : the inevitable thought that he must remember the past ; not from any feeling in her heart now that was a shame to her, a wrong

to his wife. ; And then Marshori'ta' ramo up and Everil threw hdk' .arms* around the Italian's neck, clinging to her. Margherita understood that silent embrace ; she knew, that it said : " Forgive the '"f&?t-4ire are sisters now!" And her generous heart gave full answer. That night, when the party, a brilliant and happy one, had broken up, Ernest went to his wife's dressing-room. She had dismissed her maid and was sititng in a low chair slowly taking off her jewels. She looked up, smiling, as he came in. " You have something to tell me, Ernest," she said quietly. " How do you know I have, darling?" dropping on his knee beside her. " Let me," unclasping the bracelet and laying it aside; "now this," likewise with the necklet; "and this," kissing the soft throat. ".I know you must have," said she. " I saw it in Austin's face, heard it in his voice, saw by Evie's manner. Why, am I not a woman and an Italian?" He laughed, then became grave, putting his arm about -her and drawing her close to him. _

" Sweetheart, I came on purpose to tell you. Austin told me, and gave me leave to repeat it to you. He spoke to vie just before they came here, asking: permission to try and win her, and she gave it. "Oh! Ernest, I am so very, very glad! Then she is. won already." He smiled down on the beautiful face lying ou his breast, but there were tears in his dark eyes< . " It takes a trouble from my heart!" ho whispered. " You understand, dearest?" -™*~-

"Yes, Ernest, I always knew."

" I thought somewmes," Ernest added very low, " that I — might he to blame."

11 You never were, Ernest — yon never could have beeri." " You worshippei'!'''"He strained her closer to" him. you not too much of an advocate to pc a judge:'" "You need .-neither advocate nor judge, Ernest; and I could be the last, if it were needed^a' just judge, too, 1 think, because T_, love you so much. 1 ' Tender kisses upon the lips that sought his were his only answer; and as he rapturously^p'ressed Margherita tv his breast his thoughts took a retrospective flight. He regretfully recalled the motive of his wooing and how he won her. Fortunately, everything had turned out for the best. Still he now realised that. he had heen engaged in ' A Perilous Game." '(Tho' 3 End.)