A Tardy Wooing.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIX, Issue 8145, 22 May 1906, Page 2

A Tardy Wooing.

CHAPTER XVIII.-Continued. "And I think it's very unkind of you to be angry with me for wanting to do my best for myself and all of us I" she answered, with a pout. "If I were Mrs Outram, of the Towers, do you think I should be unmindful to the truest friend I ever had? I'm very ambitious —I will not attempt to deny it: I like the thought of being rich, so rich that I could shower dowa gifts on you; on all who have been kind to me. I should be too eiddy and pleasureloving to make a poor man a good wife—but yon are too sensible not to have discovered this long since." Chris Kennet sat and listened, and gazed meditatively at the fair speaker, but she cajoled him in vain. It was qot the first time she had tried the same arts on him, and with success; but he was growing bitter and motose; he no longer wished to call her his own; with the extravagant habits ehe had acquired, his savings would have beeu scattered to the wind by the end of the honeymoon! But he could not forgive her and let ber go. He must make her feel a little of what he had suffered. He must have his revence: till then she should not escape him. He enjoyed the evident uneasiness with which Ehe awaited his reply, and deferred it till she had nearly lost al! patience. "1 dare say you are right, S'rilla; now you're so used to having your own way and making the money fly, you'd not be much of a wife for any poor mau. There ain't much doubt thac I've had a very luckly escape, though I didn't always think so."

This was not flattering, and Cryilla winced, but she kept a .smiling face and professed to Agree with the speafcer. '•You will make a vticor choice next time. I should like to see you haocily married." "1 dare say you would; and, if L went to the other end of the world to begin housekeeping, you'd like it better still, wouldn't you!?" This wasvsuoh a home thrust that she bad recourse to her fan, and viciously pulled oae of the feathers to pieoes ere she replied. ' "You should let me find a wife for you Chris. She should be a girl after your own heat't; sweet-tem-pered as well as swe^t-faced." "It would be more charity to give her to your fine gentleman, Outram," he sneered. "He wants to marry, and 1 don't." . Cyrilla laughed sarcastically. "Not even to please you I be so self sacrificing as that! 1 wish you would bo reasonable, and acknowledge that I am doing what any sensible woman would do." 1 "Have I ever denied it? I should have preferred more heart and less prudence, that's all." There was a pause. They were 4 fencing with eaoh other, and Kennett had Ine advantage because he kept his temper, while the youiag lady was growing rapidly irritable. "Prudence is generally considered an estimable quality. I wisk you possessed a little of it, and would time your visits better. Mr Outram is so enraged <vitb you that I tremble for the consequences should he find you here " "Tremble for yourself! P9haw! if your house of nards is bound to fall, which signifies whether it be sooner or later?"

Of this taunting speech, Cyrilla did not choose to take any notice. "Poor mamma const have been lightheaded for hours before her death, or she would not have insisted on being brought home so suddenly, nor have said such extraordinary things about yoa." "Ale?" and Chris now condescended to evince a little interest in what she was saying. < "Tes; she actually declared that you had assured her Mr Oatram was already married." . Chris Kennet loopked grave. "Did she now? Who'd have thought it would have taken such an efEeot on her?" "Then you confess it!" cried Cyrilla, indignantly. "It was as base and cowardly aa it was false!" "I made a mistaKe," he admitted; "but when a man is goaded to madness by having the virtues and the riches, and the gentlemanly ways of another man dinned in hia ears, he is apt to do and say what he'd hold back in cooler moments." "I am glad you regret the mischief you made," said Mis 9 Dartieon. "l shall tell Mr Outram that you are sincerely sorry that poor mamma misunderstood jyou, and " J But she was not allowed to continue. "Tell him nothing of the port, un- j less you are prepared to hear me contradict it. 1 own to being truly sorry I upset my lady, though she brought it on herself; but I hold to what I told her. You'll never be Mrs Outram, of the Towers, my beauty, because there's a Mrs Outram already" Cyrilla smiled incredulously. "You have flaunted this in my face before; you think to frighten me with it. Why, no one who knows Harold Outram would credit it for an instant! I am not the pastionate, jealous, credulous child who used to believe every word you ohose to tell me!" , "But ynu'll have to believe this," beoause it'd true—true—true!" he repeated, doggedly. Cyrilla rose in such angry haste that she swept down some porcelain statuettes with a startling crash; and Wynnie, coming into the room with a message from Sir Jasper, stopped on the threshold, uncertain whether to advance or retreat. She would have done the latter immediately on catching sihgt of Chris Kennett, for she could never quite overcome he* feara of being recognized by him and claimed as the fuigtive slave of Mrs Marby; but

By Charles W. Hathaway. Author of " Marjorie's Sweetheart," ii A Lonff Martyrdom," "A Hash Voiv," >( Joseph Dane's Diplomacy," etc., etc.

"You were always hot-tempered and rash, and perhaps it is a little hard on you to lose the chances you've been depending on; but facts arc stubborn things, as even you'll have to acknowledge-when you're brought face to face with the young woman Mr Outram obose to marry. It was at a church not far trom Dover, at the veiy time were waiting for him, and wondering why he did not come to you." Wynnie turned pale, and retreated j a step or two; but Cyrilla stamped her foot, f.nd could scarcely repress a scream of passion, as she declared the whole story was a base invention of his own. He heard this with a taunting laugh. "You y)on't say so when I've brought the young woman here, with her marriage ring on ber finger, and her certificate in her pocket." "You cannot do itl you aannot do it' I' she shrieked in her rage—with which, by the way, there mingled more apprehension than she could have experienced if her faith in her lover bad been as strong as his diserte. "I'll see whether I oan't," hereplied, so confidently that Wynnie trembled. "I'll not pretend to say that I' know where she is to be found just now; tut I'm going to look for this said Mrs Outram, and I'll not come back to you without her." He stalked away without another word, Cyrilla following him with her shrill, mocking laughter; but when he waa out of sight and hearing her mood changed, and she sank into the nearest chair, so ghastly, so breathless, that Wynnie ran to support her. "It oan't be true I" she moaned; "it oan't—it can't! I'll not believe it! To be so duped—so decieved! to lcse all 1 have oraved so long! to see another woman reign > at the Towers! I'd rather die! I'd rather diel" She was on the verge of hysterics; but Wynnie withdrew her sustaining arm, and slirank from her with contempt. It was not Harold's love she was unwilling to lose, but his wealth, and for this the pure-mined, more unselfish girl heartily despised her.

CHAPTER XXIX. A LEGAL QUESTION AN--4' SWERED. When next Harold Outram came to Chislebursfc be met with a reception that surprised him. Cyrilla was cold and sullen, eying him distrustfully when he endeavoured to coax her into a more placable mood, and harping dn the subject of the lost ring. "It is so strange that you will neither give it to me nor tell me what you have done with it!" she complained. "It is more than strange, its is inexplicable." "It might be if I were deliberately withholding an explanatioon; but if you ask what 1 cannot answer, is it kind to blame me for it?" Cyrilla looked more dissatisfied than before. "If you gave it away, why not avow it? I hate to be treated as if 1 ooold not be trusted!" "You never shall be, by me," he assured her, with an earnestness that ought to have dispelled her doubts; but she turned from him fretfully, declaring that mere words, idle words, were not convincing. She must have the ring, and then she should be satisfied that he was not deceiving her. Harold Outram's fine, face flushed wrathfully. He could, and did. make allowances for the waywardness of the young lady—she was out of spirits; she had not recovered from th# shook of her mother's death; but he cold not bear to bear his honorable dealings with her called into question. Had anyone else spoken as Cyrilla was speaking, he would have resented it as an inBUlt. Curbing his annoyance, he reminded her that she had promised to drive with him. ' "This is no answer to what I said!" she retorted. "It is putting me off as if 1 were a forward child who must be amuEed when she grows troublesome. No, I will not go out today I" Instead of entreating her to alter her determination, Mr Outram accepted it as final, and went away after chatting pleasantly for a few minutes with Linda, who had set up her easel near one of the windows, and was copying a miniature fur Sir jasper; a portrait of Lady Dartison, painted by an eminent artist. It would be a goud opportunity, Harold decided, for prosecuting his enquiries for Chris Kennet whose address he succeeded in procuring from Sir Jasper himself. (To be continued.)

j Miss Dartison by a gesture forbade it. "You need not go away, Miss Moyle. My interview with Mr Kennet is at an end. I have listened to too long already." "I am in no hurry," asid Chris, provokingly. "You've thought proper to doubt my word; I'll stop till I have made you beg my pardon for it." "That I shall never dn!" she responded, panting with rage. "I forbide you to defile my ears with your slaanders! Harold Outram is above suspicion, and, in spite of you, 1 will marry mm!" Her tormentor leaned back in the ohair and smiled. I