“CONSCIENCE,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 31 March 1925, Page 7

“CONSCIENCE,”

(PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.) FASCINATING STORY OF LOVE AND MYSTERY.

(COPY RIGHT.)

CHAPTER. XXY.—Continued. ‘•lt’s really you!” Lorainc cried in a broken whisper. She stared at him with dazed, tired eyes. He looked so queer. A haze of heart showed that lie had not shaved for several days, and his clot lies were worn and nondescript except for a new cap. He might have been a tramp. ‘Well. 1 admit I'm a sight,” he said with a short laugh. “I could do with a wash and a brush-up. It’s good to see you again, my pretty—but- I didn't want you to see me until I had tidied myself a hit.” “Then—•you’re not dead! L mean — you didn’t pretend to be dead ”

‘ Lor’, r was afraid you’d hear that, so 1 hurried home as fast as 1 could. These handsome young widows, you know, they often marry again. I somehow didn't like the idea of it.”

He grinned in the old, friendly lash on.

‘•'lt was really an accident?” Lor nine quavered.

CONCLUSION”

Flagg laughed. “An accident Whew! I call it a miracle! Old Ulysses isn’t in it with me. 1 wandered over that blessed glacier three' days and nights without a bite to eat, and when 1 finally got to a village 1. guess they thought I was plumb crazy, (lood thing I had some ■Money on me. All I could think of then was that I wanted to got home. Funny, wasn’t it? 1 didn’t much care whetli?r you wanted to see me or not, Lorio. I had to come home.”

To his immense surprise Loraine threw herself down on a couch and wept passionately. ‘‘Here —this is awful. Where’s that confounded bell?”

He rang the bell, then ran to the .oor # calling for the servants. Crawley appeared, then Jane.

“Hello, Janey ! I’ve thrown Lorio

into hysterics because I’m not dead,” he bellowed. “For heaven’s sake, look after her while I clean myself up. I hope there’s some dinner going, Crawley. I ’m hungry enough to eat horse.” Flashing the stupefied Janet a wry smile, he made a leap for the stairs, and took them two at a time. “i’ll be ready for food in fifteen minutes,” he called down, at the turn of the banisters. • • • •

Under his manner of debonair carelessness, Flagg was very much puzzled find a little excised. Unless his ears had deceived him completely, Lcraine’s call when she thought lie was a ghost was a cry of lovg. It couldn’t be possible that absence had made her heart grow fonder; it was something for which he had not allowed himself to hope. All that he had wanted was to forget; perhaps grow indifferent to her, if such a thing was possible, am! not care that she wos indifferent to him. He might have remained awav

some years striving to reach that state of mind, but the accident—which he called a miracle—had shaken him more than lie cared to admit. Worn and broken for the time being, he could think of nothing but Droone, and how to get home quickly.

The fire was not lighted in his room, but everything was as he had left it.

The footman avlio had valeted for him came hurrying with fresh linen and shaving water, and put a match to the hearth. A steaming bath was drawn, and the weary master of Droone plunged into it gratefully.

“I shall be longer? than the fifteen minutes I promised,” he called out. “Tell ’em not to wait dinner for me.” Ah, it was nice to be back—and Lor* ic’s love call resounded in his ears like a delightful echo of bells. Did she care? Could it he possible that things might be different between them? Could she learn to love him in spite of what she thought he had done; in spite of those fifteen years in prison with which he stood forever branded?

Still, it was better not to hope too much. That sort of tiling always spelt disappointment.

He wondered if he could see her a moment alone before dinner, or if she was already at table. He asked the footman to make enquiries, and the man came back with the preposterous statement that Madame was “in the niyht nursery.”'

Flagg’s heart gave a tremendous thump. His eyes narrowed and lie turned back to the dressing’ table and pretended to be absorbed in a final go at his hair. Not before young George was lie going to make a'foof of himself; not if he knew it.

“Madame is in the night nursery!” That could mean only one thing: there was a child in the house, his child and Lorio’s. She had gone through all fins without him. He had left her "ithout thinking of such a possibility. But tlio footman mustn’t guess into what a tumult he had thrown his errant master.

“The night nursery, eh? Yes, you must show me where that is. 1 ’ye been away so long. Little beggar getting on all right, George?”

“Little beggar, ” Flagg thought, covered the situation neatlv. George coughed. “They’re both very bonny, sir. If anything, nurse tells me, Miss Alexandra is the heavier—by a matter of ounces.’’

It was the. one time in his life that the sustaining power of humour failed Alexander Flagg, lie gasped like an air-strangled fish.

“Miss Alexandra,, heavier—weighs more, you mean'?’’ George nodded cheerfully as he held his master’s coat. “Well, of course, sir, you’ve heard that Master James was delicate at first; but nurse tells me he’s coming on fast now. Last week ’e caught Miss Alexandra, hup an ounce and a harf. What do you think of that sir?’’ “Marvellous!” Flagg muttered. lie dared venture no further on this subject. There might be another of them; there have been such things as triplets. George led him to the door of the night, nursery, and with a. finger pursed on his lips he entered it fearfully. ; A little light was burning—a wee candle set in a saucer. Poised like a lovely white shadow between two silken-draped cots, a hand touching the rail of each, stood Lorie. A great lump came into Flagg’s throat, and fo ra brief moment he throat, and for a brief moment he eyes free of moisture. Ilis pink and golden lily, Loraine; the giver of gifts: she who cradled the very essence of life in her arms. Ho shuffled towards her, a little blindly, his strong square hands outstretched. * “Lorie—forgive me; I didn’t know. Ah, my love, don’t turn from iho now.

ELIZABETH YORIv MILLER Author of ' The Brass Box," “CarryOn,” “The Sins of the Fathers,” etc., etc., ’

Don’t break my heart all over again.” “J, forgive you! ’*? she cried softly. “Alex—Alex! But it’s enough that you’ve come back to me!” The slim white shadow melted into his arms, and became tlie Woman who was all his own. (THE END.)