THE BEAUTIFUL PROXY

Taranaki Herald, Volume LX, Issue 143781, 3 May 1912, Page 5

THE BEAUTIFUL PROXY

By R. MURRAY GILCHRIST, Author of “The Gentle Thespians,” “Lords and Ladies,” “The Wonderful Adventures!” “Beggar’s Manor,” “The Secret Tontine, etc., etc.

[COPYRIGHT.] CHAPTER XXXII. tli the morning Anne was awakened by the heartening sounds of farm life. She lay for a long time dreamily enjoying the sense of pleasant security; then hearing a woman’s voice raised in some forgotten ballad of the fields, she rose, looked from the open casement and saw Sarah Emma crossing to the milking shod, carefully carrying two bright polished pails. The woman looked upwards, and seeing Anno, smiled ami nodded. “You’re surely not thinking of getting up yet, ma’am,” she cried. “Why, 'tis scarcely six o’clock. Breakfast’ll not be ready for two good hours.” “I’ve slept long enough,” replied Anne. 'T should like to dross and come down and watch you milk.” In a few minutes Anne had dressed and left the house. She found her good friend sitting on a three-legged stool beside a roan cow. Nothing would satisfy her but that she must have a lesson, and Sarah Emma with hearty laughter taught her the art. ■She declared that, if need he, Anne could earn her living as a dairy-maid. “But you wouldn’t bo a dairy-maid long,” she said. “There’d be a handsome young master, and he’d fail in love with you. But, dear me, I’m forgetting as you’re not free to wed. I’m sure 1 humbly ask your pardon.” “1 promised to tell you my story some day,” said Anne. “1 owe It to you; you have done me a great service. Air. Bretby, the man you saw at the inn, is not my husband. I’m not married !” “Not married, ma’am!” cried the young woman. “Well, you do surprise me for sure. However did you conic to be travelling with liimf” “It was to help someone else,” said Anno. “Some day you shall know all —when I’m free to toll. But Mr. Brotby is nothing to me—less than nothing.”

“Bless me! I never heard tell of siich a thing. Well, I’m glad at heart to know as you're not bound to him ! A handsome chap—there’s no gainsaying that—but 1 never saw one with such wicked eyes! And so you’re free to wed ? The husband as’il get you may reckon himself lucky. There aren’t many like yon knocking about nowadays.”

The last of the cows was milked, and both took a pail and moved towards the house. “You don’t mean to say as you haven’t a sweetheart: 1 ” said Sarah Anno, slyly. “If you said that till yon were black in the face I wouldn’t believe you.”

"All the same 1 must,” responded Anno. “Until very lately I lived with my dear father, and I seemed to have no thought for anyone else.” “But now you’ll have all manner of men folk in love with you, ma’am—miss, 1 should say. If 1 weren’t sure of Cexihas, I do declare I should bo jealous, Don't tell mo as yOu vo never met a man who could touch your heart!”

Anno remembered the knight of Sherwood Forest, and, without her knowledge, a lovely colour rose to her soft cheeks. Sarah Emma rested her pail on a bench, and clapped her hands with innocent delight. “ ’Tis as good as a play!” she cried. “My word, but yon have somebody on your mind!”

“You are wrong,” said Anne, hesitatingly. “1 have never—” “1 don’t believe you, and that’s plain,” said Sarah Emma with considerable gaiety. “However, (isn't tor me to tease you, so I’ll hold my tongue. But 1 must say first as 1 wish you a good husband.” “You are very kind,” said Anne, laughing now. “But 1 don't intend to marry.” "You’ll talk different some day, miss, and i hope Twill be soon. Now let’s go indoors; I’ll show yon how to sieve the milk.” An hour or so was spent in the dairy. Mrs, Partridge, who, in spite of her age and lameness, still worked as well as when in her prime, watched the two young women with keen appreciation. “it does mo good to see yon farming so well, that it does,” site remarked. “1 shall be glad when Sarah Emma comes here for good, and takes the reins out of my bands. I’ll be glad to rest a bit more. Farm life's the best life in the world, but there comes a time when one wants to keep in the chimney corner.” Sarah Emma put an arm round the dame’s comfortable waist, and kissed her heartily. "You'll always be the mistress here, chimney corner or no,” she said.

Cephas, who had been engaged, upon work in some distant corner of the farm, appeared now, and all sat down to a homely breakfast. Just as the meal was finished Anne heard a fanuliar sound, and rose suddenly, overturning her chair. Cephas and Sarah Emma moved to the window.

“I’ll be hanged if there isn’t a motor car coming through the field-road,” he said. “ ’Twill be here in a minute!”

Anne caught his arm and pressed it feverishly. “It must lie Mr. Bretby!” she said hoarsely. “For God’s sake don’t tell him that I am here—don’t give me up to him!” His sweetheart took Anne’s hand. “I’ll hide you away in the barn,” she whispered, “ ’twill be best for yon lo be out of tho bouse,” In another minute she had conducted her across the farmyard to the barn. There she made her lie down and covered her with hay. I’ll leave you— I’d better keep beside Cephas, so as to sharpen up his wits. As soon as they're cleared off, I’ll come back.” She ran back to the house, reaching tho lobby a moment before Bretby appeared. “ ’Tis proper as he should see me,” she said in her lover's oar. “Trust mo to make up a tale—you’ve only gotten to had, me.” “And I’ll do that gladly,” replied Cephas. “I’m not much good at plotting, so to speak.” Bretby greeted Sarah Emma with a sardonic laugh. “Bo good enough to produce my unfortunate wife,” he said coldly, “it may have amused you to have played such an astounding trick, but perhaps you’re not aware that the law is severe upon such as assist lunatics to escape.”

“And rightly, too,” said Sarah Emma witli enthusiasm. “I’oor tilings,, they’re best where they can he well looked after. Gives ’em a chance of recovery, that it does.” “I’m not here to listen to your folly!” said Bretby. “Take mo to my wife at once!” “I don't know anything about your wife,” retorted the woman. “If you mean the lady who was with yon—well, she isn’t in this house.” “You liar!” exclaimed Bretby. “You liar! I’ll make you pay for this.” Cephas’s healthy' red deepened to

purple. “Gently now, gently!” he said. “I’ll not allow yon or any other man to use such words to my lass!” “A fine lass you’ve got!” said Brotby insolently. “A lying deceitful baghe was as good-natured as anyone living, Cephas could not endure these aspersions upon his .sweetheart’s character. His right hand grasped a whip stock that lay on the old-fashioned rack. “Off with yon!” he stuttered. “Off with yon, or, by jowks. I’ll give your jacket a rare dusting!” Bretby stood his ground; as the farmer approached him threateningly, he drew a small revolver from his hippocket. “A nice little thir~,” he said. “I suppose you’ve never seen one before. But down your whip, my good man. I warn you that nobody touches mo with impunity.” His voice acquired suddenly a new sharpness. “Put down your whip, or I’ll shoot you like a dog!” iTa lift wnn + iiiiiftrl )