LOVE AND A SHOP GIRL.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 144342, 5 March 1914, Page 5

LOVE AND A SHOP GIRL.

ATTRACTIVE LOVE STORY OF DOMESTIC INTEREST.

BY M. C- K. BAKER, Author of “The Sin of Carine/' “One Guiltv Deed,” “The Wooing of Wendy,” “The Power of Love,” “Sir Geoffrey Dacre,” etc. etc.

CHAPTER XlX.—(Continued.) Somewhat to Miss Binning’s surprise, but not a little to her relief, as it saved her the trouble of following her to see where she -wont. Erica elected to remain indoors on Friday afternooji. Sho was feeling the strain of mental as well as physical fatigue, and after a short nap she brought a book down into the parlour, Jit the gas, and tried to read. But the room was icy cold, and sho dared not light the tiny gas fire, although everyone was out. To keep herself warm she commenced to pace up and down the room. After a few minutes of this exercise there came a knock at the door, and in response to her “Come in,” a grizzled old head wa.s cautiously thrust in. “Daddy” Doyle, in the negligee comfort of multi and slippers of mosaic design, winked solemnly at Erica. “1 was just althor saying’ to mesclf ye’d be ail alone in hero and perishin’ wid the cold. Mebbe, I sea to mcsclf, she’ll be glad to .know I have the kettle on and a bit of a fire in me own room!” “On! ‘Daddy.’ you old dear—how kind of you. I’m simply frozen in here, I’d just love a cup of hot teal” Impulsively. Erica run towards him. a smile of gratitude on her lovely face. “Daddy” Doyle had always boon a particularly staunch friend oi hers, although they seldom had lime for more than a few words together. But she. had often gone* to him for advice amj sympathy in the petty worries of the shop, and he had not been slow to put two and two together. Therefore, she welcomed the prospect of a quiet chat with the old soldier whilst she warmed her toes at his bright fire and drank a cup of Ir.s tea. “Soraewan will be takiir an intberest in ye these days, inncliroe?” lie asked, with a good-natured grin, when sho was ensconced in his best chair with a steamin': oup between her hands. Xor did sT»o resent the inquiry at all. A delicate blush linked her cheeks; as sho sipped her tea. however, and tho sergeant s keen eyes twinkled as he saw the colour rise. “You mean about that letter!” replied Erica between sips. “It was from a gentleman who has been very, very kind to little Sully Moon*. He’s sent her away to the country—to a farmhouse!”

iSergeant Doyle had his own suspicious about the real object ol tho gentleman’s interest, hut he kept them to himself.

“That’s mighty kind av tho pintleman. Faith, there’s that about his face that sets me thinking, missy!” “Why—have you seen him —do you know Sir Clive Dormer?” “Dormer —Dor—bedad an’ I have ml” “Daddy” Doylo slapped his knee, and his seamed, wrinkled old face beamed with rfelight. “Brigadier Oin’ral Sir Dorian Dormer—owld iloch-an’-doris wo used to call him—got a Boer bullet through his lungs, four divil. An’ T not more than a yard from his side when he foil, mo bein’ gin’ral’s orderly that day!” “What on earth arc you talking about, ‘Daddy?’ ” “About the father of the young gintlenian that’s bin treating little Sally Moore so handsome. I’m thinking—l couldn’t mistake the likeness, now ye’ve brought the name back lo me. Ah—he was one lo fight, was old D. I) eleven years agone. that is, way out in South Africa!” “You mean to say you knew Sir Clive Dormer’s father—you were with him when lie was shot? OU! Tell mo all about it, please!” Not much persuasion did it require to get the pensioner on to Ids favourite topic.

'T’m not. sayin’ ’tis the young gintleman’s father for certain—hut tho likeness favours it. IVliCu ho drove up in his grand motor-car in the middle of tho night and gave me the loiter for ye, wid tho shtreot lamp a-shining down on to his face. I was puzzlin’ my brains to know where I’d seen the likes ay nt before!” By degrees, and with plenty of circumstantial embellishment, the old soldier wanned to his subject and worked around to the Vorceniging skirmish, during which Sir Dorian Dormer had met his death, whilst Erica listened in rapt attention. The afternoon had long become evening when ho began to repeat himself for the first time—a signaj that brought Erica to her feet, “The girls will ho coming in in a minute. ‘Daddy.’ I must get along!” sho announced. ” 'Tis powerful kind of ye to have given an old omndhaim like mo the pleasure to have had yo bore. There’s wan tiling 1 was wishing to speak to ye about, though, and rnebbe ye'll not take it amiss!” “IVhy—what’s that?” “Yo know I’m always afther telling yo ye're a sight too good to bo wasted on an owid penny bazaar like this. I’d not bo stayin’ mesilf but for tho reg‘lar pay. But, faith an’ all, it’s not right for » colleen to ho wasting tho best years of her life behind a counter. An’ that pasty-faced, narrowchested young cock-sparrow of a Goodrich has bin worrying yo again—I’ve seen it in ycr face, mavoiirnecn, and in yer sad eyes. I know well enough how it is botmio ye and him, and why yo have, to listen to his measly words, lint—don’t be afther worryin’ yer pretty head, darlint. Faith, if I wore you, I’d have cut and run for it this long time. Ye’d make a fine hospital nurse, missy—if it’s another job ye’ll be afther. There was wan nurse I knew out by Patchefstroom ”

“Yes —yes, I know I have your sympathy and friendship, ‘Daddy.’ I suppose I must be a littio coward. I’m afraid to run away from tho enemy. Doesn’t it sound funny?” Erica interrupted quickly. Thus retrieved from tho brink of another long yarn, the sergeant pulled himself up, and, holding out his big, wrinkled hand, caught Erica’s in a tight grip. “You’re right there missy. Friudship and sympathy—that yo may always rely on from old Daddy Doyle, an’ there not another livin’ soul in this shop I’d say the sacno to! But it isn’t right for a pretty_ slip of a colleen like yorsolf to he pining and fretting like a caged lark. Ye ought to get out of your cage and fly away. I’ll tell ye something!” Ho bent his grey head down and whispered, “Old Stile’s going off to Manchester to-morrow. I had mo orders about the cab this morning. There’s your chance, dearie. Wait till he’s gouo —then spread your wings and fly!” Erica shook her head thoughtfully. They had often discussed this, and never got any further. But there was

a grateful gleam in her eyes as she bado her old friend adieu and made her way up to her bedroom.

CHAPTER XX. AN ACCIDENT BY NIGHT. Spirits wero high on Sunday owing to old Stile’s departure for Manchester ou tho previous day. This was tho visit ho made annually, and the period of his absence varied from two days to a week, according to tho amount ot business to bo done with his mill-buy-Erica was barely able to eat a mouthful of breakfast, so great was her excitement at tho adventure in store for her that day. Not even Miss Bmnlag’s suspicious scowls, Alf Goodrichs aloofness, or Norah Mackic s open comments on her appearance could disturb her, however, and as soon as the meal was over she rushed up to her room again and began to put the finishing touches to her toilet. Her best hat was pulled out ot the trunk, also her neat black shoes witii dull steel buckles. Long before she was finished the other inmates of her room, who were similarly engaged, had descended to meet thoir respective swains at tho appointed trystmgplaces. . . . ip • ■V sweetly entrancing vision Luca made whoa at last all was ready, and she stood buttoning up her gloi ‘ -s. Them was nothing tawdry or cheap about her a] pearanco. She just looked a picture of neatness in her rating close-fitting skirt and jacket ni slack velveteen heavily-braided ai the nem. The small toque of the. same ina.euai, with a touch of blue about it to match the colour of her eyes., suited her to perfection, and made just ti.w n,-. contrast to her wavy, npe-enrn hair. Tra&hv. jangling bracelets or imitation jewellery", such 'as the other girls levelled in and hung themselves about with like uneducated savages. Erica could never abide. -She wore a quaint old cameo brooch at her throat-one of the few relics left by her father and on her wrist a heavy gold .cun bracelet that had been hit her by the mother whom she did nol remember. Little did she guess as she quiet.y descended the stairs and let herself out of the shop by tho side-door that jealous, spitelul eyes were waning and watching for her departure. Pleasantly conscious mat she was looking her best in the bright sunlight of the crisp, frosty iiiermng, Luca hurried along towards Oxford Linus, where sho had arranged n> meet . u Ciive Dormer at eleven o clock. ae old feeling of elation once more crept upon Imr now that she was Gmpornniy free of the shop. Her little trusting heart beat fast at the thought ot be delightful day before her. . Her bright, eyes. following her thoughts, wero fixed ahead of her. olhci wise she might have observed two familiar figures walking some yards down the pavement behind h>T—-one on each side of the street, yet neither taking anv notice of the other. Ail Goodrich and Miss Binning had u common object in view, hut they seemed to take great pains to avoid recognising each other. . All unconscious that she was being shadowed. Erica tripped gaily onwards until at last tho wide crescent of Oxford Circus burst upon her now. In tho distance she could now descry a big motor-car drawn up by tho pavement ahead of her. and sho increased her pace. Of its own aeewd, her heart followed suit. (To bo continued.)