ONE IMPASSIONED HOUR.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9044, 10 March 1908, Page 2

ONE IMPASSIONED HOUR.

By OWEN MASTERS. Author of " Nina's Repentance," " Clyda's Love Dream," " Her Soldiei Lover," " For Love of Marjorie," " The Mystery of Woodcroft," etc.

CH A PTER V. Continued. "Serious," said Berring'ton. "How do you account lor it, Charlie. "A slanting coal ream has been followed right under Cue thai el, Here it is inert' outcrop cual. hut. at the other end required a l:a»i-aiile shaft to reach it. This ground hasn t been worked for twenty years, and the damage i.-> done. It now remains i,o repair it. The ch-ipel is one of my n:ost valued possessions, and I must look into the matter forthwith." "i of*en wished to explore the cells when 1 was a hoy," remarked Berrington. "I had visions of rusteaten chains clinging to skeletons. But this is the first time my feet have pressed its classic iloor." "I'll leave that trap-door open to clear out the unhealthy effluvia," said Eastwood, "and you shall have your till of exploring in a day or two. I once ventured down there but was scared by rats." They returned to the Priory, and while Berrington was anxious, Eastwood was gloomy and apprehensive. But Miriam met her father with a wan smile, and there was a wistful, saddened look in her eyes. "1 think Berrington blundered abominably," he said, strivng to hide his confusion. "I wanted to break the news to you gently, little girl. This—this will make no difference to you, Miriam, and lam sure that I shall love you better than ever, if you welcome your new mama " "Don's please." Madam's face was anguished. "I can call no other woman mother. The very thought is terrifying. If you must marry again, papa, I suppose I have no real right to complain." She was cheered by Jack Berrington's hopeful smile, and advancing to her father, tenderly kissed his'face.

I poke their no.ies into the business of [ others," growled Berrington. ' Tom Parker dropped the subject, j but sagely opined that his old master and Mr Eastwood had quarrelled. "Another ginger beer, Tom, with a dash of gin in it. And you may as well order a carriage. It's a long, up-hill pull to the Red House." "So it is, sir." Parker left the parlor, and Berrington took the linen envelope from his pocket, and examined the contents for at least the fiftieth time. There were two pages of foolscap, every square inch of which was written over, and the sprawling signature was "Henri Vipont." Berrington smiled grimly, and struck the paper with his clenched hand. "This will smash their fancied Elysium!" he said a'oud. "It must be something more than the ravings of a disappointed man thirsting for revenge." A cough disturbed him, and he glanced up to find Tom Parker entering the room again. The landlord set down the liquid before his guest, saying: "The carriage will be at the door in ten minutes, sir. It's a bit of a change for you to ride behind a wheezy old nag." he laughed. "Half a dozen good horses of your own, and two automobiles." "My son Allan will be home soon, Tom," Mr Berrington observed. "A splendid fellow lie is now. We will make a point of giving you a call." "Mr Allan was the very mischief when he was a boy. Do you remember the Sunday when he got into the engine-house, and set all the machinery going!" Mr Berrington laughed boisterously. "Do I remember? That escapade cost me a thousand pounds, and I wouldn't sell the remembrance of it for anything." The ironmaster rode home in a creaking, dusty hack, and was greeted at his own door by a very pleasant and very surprised, young woman. She was a young woman of remarkable personal attractions, too. She was tall and graceful, her eyes were dark, soft and soulful; every feature was tenderly curved; she was sparkling' and vivacious and altogether charming. "Why, uncle, your note said ten o'clock, or later." "Well, my note was wrong, Kate. I've come home to dinner." "I wondered who was paying the Red House a call when that relic of the ark turned into the drive." She looked after the disappearing vehicle. Berrington recalled the last passage of arms with Eastwood andjre-

The worst was over, and Eastwood assumed a jaunty air. "I won't go to the Red House_ tonight, Jack," he decided, a little later. "I'll stay here, and talk to Miriam; I'll tell her just what she has to expect. I am sure that she and Stella will get on capitally together, and I know that rny future wife lias a nature overflowing with affection. She has been misunderstood, and maligned because she was poor." He snapped his fingers. "But let anybody say one word against her now ! By the way, Jack, you said that Vipont had sent you a letter —or something—about the shooting affair, you know." "Quite right; it frees you from a serious scrape. But ijor that letter you would have been ! charged with attempted murder." "Then it should be handed over to me, Jack." "At some future time." Eastwood was obviously annoyed and angry. "1 want that letter now; I saw it in your hand when 1 surprised _ you talking to my daughter. If Vipont wrote it, he has touched upon other matters concerning me. You know how he hates me, Jack. You won't j'ive it to me? Then I can't have yuu under my roof. Your friendship is a sham." He was pacing hack and forth in a frenzied manner. "Very well," answered Berrington coldly. "I am getting tired of your uncertain vagaries, and you may go hang, for all I care. I'll depart at once. And mark this, Charlie Eastwood, I have done with you until you apologise for what you have sai?l. His assumed anger seemed very real as he strode away. He stopped a servant in the hall, and sent him in quest of Miss Eastwood. In a very few minutes she came her sweet face pitifully anxious. "He has ordered me out of the house now," he smiled, indicating her father, "and I am going. If anything happens, send word by a trusty messenger. 1 may hear from .Scotland Yard to-night, and in any ■case I shall prove that the marriage is impossible. Courage, Miss Eastwood !" He pressed her trembling hand with gentle firmness, and said goodbye.

plied in his grim fashion: "My girl, Charlie Eastwood is an eminent ass. We had a few words, and he ordered me to quit his house. He hadn't the decency to offer me a carriage, so I walked as far as Castle Stanford." Kate. I.inley's dark eyes opened wide with indignation. "I'll tell you all about it after dinnei', Kitty." He pinched her cheek. "I saw Allan last night, and he's very curious about you." He watched the rising colour with satisfaction. "I showed him the photograph of yr.u taken in India, and he declared that you were the nicest-looking girl he had ever seen ! My luggage got here all right? I've brought you two or three pretty baubles. Wait a bit! No telegram or anything?" "No." "I wish there had been one, but it's too soon yet. To-morrow, maybe." After dinner he confided a good deal to Kate Linley, and her sympathies went out to Miriam Eastwood. The very idea of such a woman as the countess queening it at the Priory was horrifying. It meant social extinction for everybody there. "How an old man can be so foolish is beyond my comprahension," said Kate. "It can't be love —real love, I mean." "It's temporary insanity. The reckless and warm-hearted Charlie has become a melodramatic and spiteful lunatic. You will have to make friends with Miriam Eastwood." (To be Continued).

CHAPTER VI

BERRINGTON'S WARD

It was a good four miles from the Priory to the Red House, and midwav between the two lay the village of Castle Stanford, and the railwaystation, known as Castle Stanford Junction. To the village, Mr John Berrington walked, and having slaked his thirst at an inn, considered the question of doing the whole journey on foot. Although it was six o'clock the power of the Julie sun showed very little diminution, and the parlor in the rear of the inn was comfortable and cool. The window looked upon a green lawn and a verdant orchard. There were bowls of sweet-smelling flowers on the table, and an electricfan whirred every daring insect back into the outer world. Berrington sipped his beverage, and talked to the landlord. They were not strangers by any means, for every man, woman and child in Castle Stanford knew Jack Berrington, the ironmaster. His great works found employment for half of its male population. He was a bluf", largehearted man, with a kind word lor everybody. Torn Parker, the landlord of the Castle Arms,, had been a foreman at Bernngton's rolling-mills in his younger days, and there was always a tender place in his heart for the "old gaffer." "It's a terribly hot day for walking, sir," Tom remarked. "And you're no lightweight. I heard that you and Mr Eastwood had been having a good time abroad." "H'rri. Astonishing how people