"Mrs Lorrimer's Folly."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 6 June 1913, Page 2

"Mrs Lorrimer's Folly."

(UUR SfcKiAL

CHAPTER XXll—Continued. Will watched for Bertha's return, and could with difficulty he dissuaded from going to meet her. "Will she bring him back with her, do you think?" he questioned/ "Oh, I hope she will!" But that hope was doomed to disappointment. Very soon Bertha was seen approaching, walking -slowly, as if tired and sad, and certainly alone. They hurried to meet her. "Whit news?" cried Dick. "Is it Fred?" Then, with a glance at Will: "I have told Will all. , It was time for him to know the truth, and I have told him. You may speak without reserve, dear. Did you see John Brown, and is he Fred? What did he say to you?" They were in the house by this time, and Bertha dropped into a chair.' 'She looked from one to the other

» I sadly, wistfully. "I'm sorry you told the boy," she said. "His ignorance might have lasted a little longer. I've only had my journey for my pains, and come back no wiser than I went. John Brown ha,s gone from Chelsea!" "G/ine!" Dick and Will uttered tho exclamation bpth together. "Gone where " ''No one knows. ; Mrs Jones told me nothing at. all about hint. | Except - that he told her he was, going 'far away.'. And that he 'went last night by. the half-past ten train, and left neither word nor sign behind him." ,-CHAPTER XXIII. v On the afternoon of that same day that had brought to the Saville s such , a heavy disappointment, Bertha set ' out, according to her promise, 1 to visit Lady Holme —young Will, of course, accompanying her. The boy could think and speak of little else than his new-found father —found, however, only to be lost again. He pointed out to Bertha the places along the beach where they had met and walked and talked together—the log upon which only the preceding evening they had sat side ' by side. \ Most eagerly, too, did he recall their former meetings of years ago. "It was when J was ten year s old that I remember him first," he said. "He found me sailing a ship I had made, atnd he helped me to set it to rights. Every day for a week or more I saw him, and he used to tell me splendid stories and give me dimes and I was very fond'of him. I re- | member crying when he one day kissed mo and said he was going away; but I must have been a careless fellow, for I soon forgot him* afterward. I was twelve when he caipe again; and thought he only stayed here three ■ "days, and I said nothing about it to any one, I felt when he went away that.l had lost a, friend that I loved-. I- didn't forget him* thattirae; I was always thinking of him. and looking for ■him until:.a week agoi; when he returned. And gone again! I might have guessed" ,he, was going away when ho kissed, me-and bade God ' bless me last night., lie spoke,so,sadly and■•'solemnly.- '; Oh;«mariJmie! why "has he gone" away no/w?"/'and do yon , think he will ever oome back again?" ' ; ! She answered only the;last of those J two questions. ] Yes,~she told him, she felt sure his j father would come,back, though not I just yet a while. Not while Lillian remain s in this-neighbourhood." was her secret thought, but she gave it no'utterance. She and her husband, taking earnest counsel together, had dec/dec! that no -revelation'should, be made to the boy concerning his mother, nor to Lillian concerning either her husband or her son. ••The i affair w»s Fred's"—-this, was , Dick Saville'a ultimatum—"and Fred alone had a right to deal with it. I He'has kept his very existence a se->-> cret from N hei; throitgh all these years, and gone away now to avoid her," said lie; "and whether he does it out of love or hate, it isn't for us to interfere with him.. We'll keep his existence a secret, too, until ■♦he wills otherwise. As for the hoy, it would be nothing but cruelty to give him any hint who his mother reallv is at , present. If he asks about her, tell ! , him that snioh questions must be an- I swered by his father alone, and cau- : tion him to be silent and patient. I ' But don't you interfere between him j 1 and his real'mother, dear; if nature } and instinct can give them any real hint of the secret, .lei ve'nature and * instinct to have their own way, for they're powers that ought never' to be ' meddled with. Learn all you can ! from Lady Holme about herself,' but tell her nothing, and in all other respects let things go on as usual. Fred Lorrimer gave his son into our care, and so long us we believe him to be i living our-duty clearly is to keep the s boy until the father takes him back u again." f,

This advice was sound and good, and none the less agreeable to Bertha for chiming in with her own wishes and delaying the day in which she must admit a formidable rival to the affections of-her foster chile?. She went to her interview with Lillian, therefore, with much less trepidation than «he had experienced on the viou s night when only thinking of it —and this becawse her course of conduct was fully decided on. ' Lndeed, Lillian was the more nervous f of the two. Poor mothe-*' Heaven alone knew the sweet, wild hopes and dreams and fancie s that had run riot in her heart and hrain, and kept her from sleep and rest ever since her eyes had rested oh Will Saville. Heaven/alone knew how. in that first moment of meeting, the very soul within her hungered and yearned

By Charlotte M. Stanley. Author of "Edna's Vow," "His Country Cousin," "How an Oath Was Kept." "A Wo man Wronged."

to claim him a« hor own dear, longlost, long-soughtnfor child. Never had sJie ceased to motirn for him and seek for him, though, alas! I she had long since ceased to hope that her search could ever have a success- j j ful issue. Whether resident in Engj land, or travelling about the contii nent of Europe—as had been Sir Gili bert's whim for several years —or a* I now, returned at last to her beloved I America, «he still kept up a persistI ent, almost mechanical and quite j hopeless, inquiry for any possible I survivors of the HI-rated Ocean Star. And the search was always quite in

vain. j Business had brought Sir Gilbert to New York. Had his wife's wishes j had any weight with him. he would j hove made the journey long before, • but Sir Gilbert cared for no one's pleasure but his own. A selfish, discontented, disappointed man—dis- : appointed because he had hoped to J gain possession of /his wife's entire fortune, and make ducks and drakes of it in his own wild fashion; but found it, to his disgust, so tied tip and secured that only a yearly in : come, a splendid one it is true, could ever be under his control —hating all restraints of morality and decency, and yet doubly condemned—by illhealth and iron circumstance to decent and monl: courses—ho went hither and thither, chained fast to his ow & egotism and discontent, seeking rest, health, recreation, pleasure, and finding none of them. His latest attempt at finding an interest in life had taken the form of establishing a private gambling house in Now York, but this was under the ro-u>, cf course, and his beautiful and neglected wife was about the last person in the wide world who was likely to entertain the slightest Suspicion of it. in truth, his movements had little interest, for Lillian, and so long as he moved far enough out of her way, she was little given to questioning them.. Her early contempt for his character had so increased with years that he •had become personally, hateful to her; and they li'd long,since agreed upon what Sir Gilbert called "a division of spoils" which enabled them—while keeping up a decent appearance of amity before the world—to be practically independent of each other. This charming matrimonii*) arrangement it was which enabled Lady Holme to establish herself pleasantly at'quiet Chelsea with her little girl. while Sir Gilbert remained, spreading his nets and weaving his toils, and otherwise engaging in evil —and congenial—business in New York. (1v be Continued.)