THE LADY IN BLACK.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8446, 20 May 1907, Page 2

THE LADY IN BLACK.

CHAPTER XlV.—Continued. Old Lady Mallyan seemed uneasy; the harshness which Mabin had hitherto believed to bo her most salient quality had almost disappeared from her tones as she addressed her son: "I am sorry, she said quite gently, as she nuc out Ivjl' arms toward him, "to find"you here. It can do no good. It might have done great harm. Why did you not let roe know whore you were? Why didvoudeceive me?" But "Mr Banks" c.id not accept the offered caress of the outstretched arms. "I will tell you why, mother, presently. But now, where is Dorothy? I want to see her. I must see her. Surely," he went on, as she did not at first answer, "surely she will see me, now that you are here. Surely she will not refuse!" There was again a silence of a few seconds, during which Mabin. who had only withdrawn a little way, and who was striving to attract the attention of Rudolph, who stood with his back to her, uttered a little cry of pain and distress. "Mr Banks" went on impatiently: "Where is she? Is she in the house? I must go to her; I must see her!" Then Lady Mallyan spoke, in a voice which was greatly changed. She seemed to be trying to control some real alarm. "You cannot," she said quickly. "She will not see you. She refuses —absolutely. Asa gentleman you cannot persist. She is as hard and cold-hearted as ever. She will not seo you again. She has gone away." At these words, which Mabin heard, tho young girl uttered a sharp cry. But "Mr Banks" did not see her. Ho spoke again, in such piteous tones that Mabin and Rudolph, young and susceptible both, felt their hearts wrung. "Mother, I must sec her, I must! Once, once only; I won't ask for more. Go after her; go after her. Tell her I love her, I love her always. She will not refuse to see me once—before—before I die!" Mabin waited no longer. Rushing between the mother and son, she panted out: "I will go! I will fetch her! I will bring her back! And she will come! Oh, she will come! She is not hard. Trust me, trust me, she will come — she shall come!"

She gave him no time for more than a hoarse whisper of thanks and a murmured blessing. She was off , down the hill, as if on the wings of the wind.

And as she drew intD the black shadow of the trees on the hill, she heard footsteps and a voice behind her:

"Mabin! Mabin! Don't be frightened. Where has she gone, dear? Where has she gone?"

Panting, breathless, not halting a moment as she ran, Mabin whispered in a low voice which thrilled him:

"Down the hill—this way. Oh, Rudolph! You don't think she's gone to the sea, do you?" "Don't let us think about it dear. If anything has happened to her, it is the fault of that old woman's bitter tongue." "Oh, don't let us talk. Let us hurry on. We may be in time yet." "We may."

There was little hope in his tone. At the bottom of the road he, slightly in front, hesitated. "To the left—to the high part of the cliff by the sea-mark." directed Mabin briefly. "Don't wait for me. I am getting lame again. Run on alone!"

So Rudolph ran. And, behind the fir-plantation, a little farther on, he disappeared from her sight. Mabin, her lame foot paining her a little, limped on after him with a sinking heart. CHAPTER XV. SOME EXPLANATIONS. Mabin trudged along the chalky, dry road in the fast-gathering darkness, oppressed by fears. What if Rudolph should not be in time? Now it seemed clear to the girl that poor Mrs Dale had started on that solitary walk in a frenzy of despair, goaded to a mad act by the taunts of Lady Mallyan. And if he were in time, what would the end of it be? She could not "'marry her husband's brother, even if she had returned the love he bore her. Yet, since he had asked so piteously for a few words with her, it was impossible to refuse him. Mabin's warm heart was full of sympathy for them both; for the woman who had erred so grievously, but who had gone through such a bitter repentance, for the man who, whatever his weakness, his indiscretion, had suffered and been constant. In the meantime Rudolph had reached the bare stretch of sandy waste which extended along the cliffs beyond the last of the straggling houses. The tide was coming in below.each little wave breaking against the white wall of chalk with a dull r oar, followed by a hissing sound as the water retreated among the scattered rocks. Not a living creature was to be :-een, although his seaman's eyes :;aw a long way in the dusk. The fears which had haunted him as he ran grew stronger. He looked over, with a cold sensation of Ircad, at the water beneath the cliff, lie listened, and at last ho called: "Mrs Dale! Are you anywhere about. Mrs Dale?" He was conscious that his voice md not the ring of careless heartiness which it was meant to have. \nd there was no answer. Ho had come to a gap, by which •arts and horses went down to the ihore to bring away sand and sea-

By FLORENCE WARDEN. Author of "An Infamous Framl," "A Terrible Famili/," "For Love of Jack," "The House on the Marsli," etc., etc.

weed. A dark object, half-hidden in n cranny of the chalk, met his eye. lie ran down, and as he approached, the thing started away from him. But he gave chase, came up with the flying figure as it reached the tdge of the water, and caught at the black draperies as he ran. The long black veil gave way and remained a limp rag in his hand. But the flying tig tire stopped. "Why do you come? Why can't you leave me alone V" she fiercely asked.

And as she turned upon him, he saw in her large blue eyes, which looked dark and unnaturally bright in the dusk, something of the passionate temper which she had learned by sad experience to control. Rudolph hesitated. There was a doubt in his mind, which made him choose his words.

" "He wants to see says he must see you," he said at last, in a low voice. "He told Lady Mallyan so. You cannot, you will not refuse to come." But a sudden change to terror came over her beautiful face. To Rudolph's great perplexity and distress, she burst into a violent fit of crying. "I can't go, I can't see him! After what she said! I can't. I would rather die!"

' Rudolph did not know what to say. His vague and awkward attempts to comfort her were quite withou* effect, and at last he contented himself by waiting in impatient, silence for the arrival of Mabin. As he expected, the young girl found them out quickly, guided by the piteous sobs of Mrs Dale.

"Don't cry so, dear, don't cry! The old woman will never dare to worry you again," were the words which Mabin whispered into the ears of the weeping woman, as she threw her arms round her, and at once began to try to drag her up the slope toward home. "She's ashamed of herself already. And you will no have to meet her alone. Remember that." , Under the influence of her gentle words.and still more persuasive caresses Mrs Dale speedily became calmer. And although she at first resisted all her friend's efforts to lead her back toward the house she had left, she presently listened to and began to answer Mabin's words.

"I will go with you a little way," she said in a tremulous voice. "You are a sweet, dear girl, and I love you for your goodness. But you must kt me go to the station and try and get away." Mabin paused before trying her final shot.

"You must come, dear," she whispered, "because there is some one who wants to see you; some one who is not strong enough to come after you himself."

At these words Mrs Dale who had begun to walk slowly up the hill; leaning on Mabin's arm, stopped short and began to tremble violently.

"Who —is —that?" she asked hoarsely, with apparent effort, keeping her eyes fixed on those of her companion with such searching intentness that the young girl was alarmed.

" 'Mr Banks,'" whispered the girl. "And listen, dear. He only wants to see you just once; he said so. And he is ill, you know, so I think you ought. And since he has loved you all this time— —" Mabin stopped short. For as she uttered these words a cry escaped from Mrs Dale's lips, a cry so full of poignant feeling, so pfaintive, so touching, that it was evident she was moved to the inmost depths of her nature. ' Clinging t:) Mabin with trembling fingers, gazing into her eyes with her own full of tears she said in a low, broken voice: "He said that? He—really—said—that?" "Why, yes, he did," answeied the girl, not knowing whether to be glad or sorry that the admission had escaped her. Not another word was uttered by either of them; but Mrs Dale began to walk so fast that Mabin, whose ankle had not yet recovered all its own strength, found great difficulty in keeping up with her; and Rudolph, who had been ahead of them, had now to drop behind. It was not until t they reached the hill on the top of which "The Towers" stood that Mrs Dale's steps slackened, and her face became again over-clouded with doubt and fear. (To be Concluded.)