Selina's Love Story.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8202, 4 August 1906, Page 2

Selina's Love Story.

CHAPTER IV. —Continued. •No,' gaul sir George. 'I am not gond at guessing.' Miaa Lasoombe's fnce had an expression oE pain on it. 'Dorothy is Sir Henry's child.' she said. The man before her started n second time, and his face was -flushed; then he turned rou«hly on Miss Lascombe. 'You are inventing,' he said 'Dorothy has spoken to me about her lather. He was a soldier. tie died when she was a child. Her mother has mourned his memory all these year?. I have a picture of that mother in my room, it is the face of a gnod, a pure woman. I have read her letters to Dorothy; they are the lottors of a guod woman—letters of a devoted mother.' Mary Lasoombe caught her breath quickly. . 'My riear George,' she paid,, perhaps I shall startle vru when 1 make the assertion that, despite all I have told you, 1 consider Caroline Baraidine a gcod woman. I know h^r — know all her history. I never blamed her in this matter. I blamed only the man. 1 don't know that 1 should have told yon all this, except that I think, it you intend to marry the girl, you must know that there may be difficulties in the future.' Sir Goorge Durnstone straightened liimself to his full height. 'lf?' he repeated. 'Do yoa suppose that 1 should change or draw back, if even that what you have told mo is absolutely true? My dear Polly, I aii not going to marry the mother; I am marrying a young and innocent child. When she is my wife, when she is Lady Durnstone—with my protection Dorothy wi'.l be able to defy all the world,' Miss Lascombo was silent. They were brave words, and she liked to hear him speak them, but she did not misunderstand him; she new perfeutly well that it was pride of himself that prompted him, not that true, that strong love that can breast the ocean of trouble and sorrow triumphantly. 'Happily,' she said, 'we live in enlightened times. Nowadays people are accepted for what they are, to a great extent, not becauae of their parentage, and you may be strong enough to stand between your wite and all harsh winds.' 'As you have told me so muoh, you had better tell me more,' said (Sir George, coldly. 'What is the worlds view of this—this friendship?' Miss Lascombe shrugged her shoulders. 'lt is so old, 1 she said, "it is interesting only to old fogies like myself. Yet scandal is never quite forgotten. I don't know that I am thinking so much about you as I am about • Dorothy. I took her measure to-day. She is an nltrasensative nature the sort of nature that is bound to suffer, all the more so because knowledge of the truth has been forced upon her in this wholly unexpected fashion. 1 Sir George Durnstone stood looking into the fire. It was hard to determine the nature of nis thoughts from his expression, , but he suddenly turned to his old friend. 'As my wife,' bo said, quietly, 'Dorothy will be safe.' His tone was very cold. Miss Lasoombe diew her breath b little sharply. Well, 1 hope so, from the bottom of my heait, George,' she answered. -No one will wish you happiness more surely than I shall. I confess the idea of yoar marrying at all surprised me a good deal, but iu matters of this sort, dne moot always be prepared for surprises. On one point 1 should like to assure you'—she stretched out her hand—and that is, that in me your wife will find a staunch friend. 1 Sir Gebrge Durntsonejusc touohed the baud she held forward. 'lbank you,' ho said; but his voice was still cold, and, as he turned and walked away, Mary Lascombe felt just as Selina had felt a little earlier in the evening—that Sir George was inclined to lay the blame on her shoulders for what had occurred. Assuredly he was not grateful to her for her friendly desire to lot him knov where lie stood. She walked upstairs thoughtfully, and on the top lauding she met Selina. The girl's eyea were red and her lips quivered. '•Dorothy won't let me into her room,' ehe said, and she has not gone 'co bed, Polly, l didn't knock until 1 listened and hoard her moving about. lam so worried about her. Her voice sounds quite obftnged; it ia not kind of hnr to shuii me out. lam sure she is making borsoif a'iserable all about a madwoman a freak.' Miss Lascombe put her arms about Selina and kissed her. 'Leave her alone, dear,' she said; 'sometimes even those we love best cannot help us." _ i Selina walked with Miss Lascombe into hoi room. Once there she faced her friend. 'Polly,' she said, yon speak mysteriously. You have to tell mo what it all means. I know you have been talking to George, because, I heard you call him back. Now you have to talk to me. You always treat me a3 if I were a child, out you know lam really grown up. I am in my fwentioth year.' 'A great age,' said Miss Lascombe; then Ehe added, 'Are you only nineteen? You have been such .a clever little woman, reigning here and taking charge of George and his affaire, that really one might have imasinedyou were twice you age; and yet you are only a baby, Selina. I should like to keep you a baby always.' '1 want you to tell me why Lady Dan worthy struck Dorothy?'Selina

By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. Author of "An Inherited Feud," >e Brave Barbara," « A Splendid Heart," " Temptation of Mary Barr," (( The Interloper," etc., etc.

asked, in a voice \that fcad some likeness to her brother's voice. Miss Lascombe sat down in a big chair, and the girl knelt on | the heartbrng. With a deep sigh the older woman spoke, It was not the moment to prevaricat° or to make things agreeable. She told Selina the truth, as she ha i told it to Geolge just a little while before. Selina was holding her pretty „ bands to shield her face from the blaze, and these hands trembled as she listened. She was silent a long time a3 Miss Lascombe spoke; then she got up. 'Polly,' ehe snid, 'this is all ireadful. Oh, Polly it Bounds so cruel to say it, but—-but I wish I | had never met Dorothy; and oh! bow I wish I had never brought her here. Oh, poor, poor child, I am grieved! Isn't it awful that a young thing like that should have her life spoiled by the mother she loves so much?' Mies Lascombe looked at the girl. 'Perhaps it may not be spoiled. George at least has resolved to prevent tbis if he can.' Selina stood with her hands pressed to her heart She looked taller than usual at this moment, and there was a kind of fire in her eyeß. 'Polly, I won't misunderstand you," she said, 'but George must not mßrry Dorothy. He cannot think only of himself; he has to think of all those who have gone before hiqi. He has to think of bis name, of bia children; he has a duty in all tbis. I—l see things clearer to night than 1 have ever seen them before. Now I perceive that we have been wrong, that before things had (j gone so far we should have known more about Dorothy. Perhaps, it would not matter so muoh to other men, but George is a Durnstone; the greatest possession we have ia pride of oar race and family.' Then Selina's tone changed. She went across to Miss Lascombe, and she dropped on her knees. 'Am I saying very unpleasant things?' she asked, brokenly. 'Polly, do I seem hard and worldly to you? would not hurt Dorothy, for, indeed, I have learned to love her; but she Is new in my life; George cornea before all the rest. I have always been so proud of him, and tbis story you tell me means shame. Polly there must be no shame with the name of the woman who marries George.' Mary Lascombe said nothing. Though Sel'na had voiced the sentiments that filled her mind, now that she sat listening to this sentiment spoken so firmly, her feeling was one of sorrow. 'lt is a strange influence to have come into George s life, 1 she said. 'I have often grumbled at him, as you know, Selina, and have felt that he was wasting his life living apart as he has done. Like you, 1 have felt that he has done wrongly in remaining unmarried so long. Like you, I feel that this marriage is not the marriage that George Durnstone ought to make; but I saw George in a new light to-night. The more opposition the world will give the more determined he will be. He will marry Miss Baraldiae, though he will not do tbis easily,' said Miss Lascombe, 'for the girl herself will be against him.' Tnen Mary Lasoombe turned to the girl beside her. 'Selina,' she said, 'the is a practical side to this question. One that touches yourself. I am quite sure, my dear child, that you have never set yoursel even iu your imagination to sketch out ycur future when your brother should marry. Now, have you?' Selina got up quickly; she shook her bead. 'No,' she said, 'although these last two days, Polly, I have been trying to picture to myself what life would be like when Dorothy sits in my place. It will be very strange to feel that I am no longer the mistress of tbo Gate House.' Selina tried to speak calmly, but her lips quivered, and there were tears in her eyes. 'You must put plain facts before yourself,' sad Miss Lascombe, in her quiet way; 'except for some few miserabla pounds a year, Selina, you are absolutely dependant upon George. Happily, all this time you have never had the occasion to feel the bitterness of depenedneo, but there may come a time when the preseDt stale of things between yourself and George may be changed. I feel it cay duty to suggest to yon to do nothing to bring about that change.' Selina looked quickly at [ hexfriend, and then she looked into the fire. (To be Continued.)