TEMPTATION.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 3181, 29 March 1911, Page 3

TEMPTATION.

By EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS.

Published by special arrangement—All rights reserved by the “Times ”

CHAPTER XXVIII. Tom threw his shears on tlie rough grass of the bank. “I’ve .many a time wanted to tell you, Miss Mary,” he said, “but it’s not so easj f for me to speak to you. There was some letters lying for your father at the old house: I got ’em by chance The man as took the house off aunt is a kindly sort, and he knew as I was worrittin’ about you as I’d been so fond of poor Mr. Barr, and so ho kep’ those letters, Miss Mary, instead of giving them back to the postman, and just before I come down here meanin’ to go to Canada, he catches sight o’ me one day and he give me them letters They were written to your father, Miss Marv and I feel sure they’d got something to do with liis books and l writings, for they was just like the kind of letters you was always.hoping would come.” Mary’s face had a look of transitory happiness. “Oh. Tom—-give them to me,” she said, “they must he .from Chesterton the publisher. There must be news of Ins book—the news I prayed to have before 1 died. Oh, Tom! It will ' o alnost like a touch of my father’s hanu in mine to read something about him. I finished tlie manuscript, '.l'om, aid sent it—and then 1 waited—and 1 waited—and death came very near—and there .was no arswer,” Torn Carter’s eyes were full, of tears. “1. spoke of them letters to aunt and I showed ’em to her—and after that day as she saw you near tlie- cathedral, Miss' Mary, she took a spite for v- u The' day I got work Here 1 »<iw aunt, and she, asked me for the letters and— ”

“And you gave them,” said Mary Verney. Her face that had glowed for a moment was now ashen white; her eyes had a stricken look. She had had one moment of sudden and unexpected joy, now that joy was lost also! “No,” said Tom, brushing away his tears, “no. I wouldn’t give ’em to her, and I see, she was vexed ; terribly vexed with me. Then she went away, to London as, I supposed, but I found out later that she’d never gone.” “There was one day a little while back when her ladyship sent me to the town and I was away the whole day. Well, when I got hack, Miss Mary, 1 found aunt sitting in my room as l>okl as brass. She was in one of her nasty tempers, and she would have it as Lady Verney was the girl dic’d known. I’d a awful trouble to get hero away, and if it hadn’t been as Air. Johns the coachman was kind, she’d have stayed the night. But go she did at last, and I drove her to'Minster myself. .“The next day I found as she’d really gone to London. I never thought,” Tom said, “of mistrusting her. T never thought she’d do such a mean trick, but if you’ll believe me. Miss Mary, she searched my box, and she took away them letters.” ’l’om’s voice faltered; lie felt as if he had been guilty of the theft himself. ’■ “It were several days after when L thought of it all, as I looked and found the letters gone! You don’t know what that meant to me, Miss Alary 1” Mary put out lief hand once more. “Never mind,” she said bravely. “It j s a sadness ,hut when there is so much a little more hardly counts. And after all.” she added hoarsely, her lips quivering. “this may he God’s way of dividing me still more from my dear father.” She moved on aimlessly, as it were, then she looked hack. “But I am glad you have told me, Tom,” she said in a hushed' way, “and oh! so glad that those letters came.. Something seems to tell me that his last hopes, the hones of his life-time, have been realised—that his work has been given to the world. Though lie is gone, I can still give thanks for this blessing.” She turned again and walked on, and Tom stood and watched her for a- moment, and then with a sigh he stooped for his shears and went hack to his work. “When she wants me I’ll be ready, he said to himself unsteadily. Then he took off liis hat, and looked upwards. “Prav God !” he said, “that day 11 be long in coming.” * * AS- 4: Carina drove through the brilliant sunshine in a mood of anger and uneasiness/ mingled. Something ui Mar’s manner, in the quiet, calm way in which she. had listened to all that Carina -had'.Said, forced home upon her the unnleasalit suggestion that she had acted altogether too quickly. Assuredly her visit to the White Priory had been anything hut a success. She called herself a fool for having written to her uncle acquainting him of the fact of her mairiage, till after she had made this little excursion and attacked the stronghold, as it were. His illness would make matters a little difficult for her. r

There was not a gleam of pity or regret in Carina’s heart as she passed aloii" the familiar road and approached Yelverton though from this -old man she had received nothing hut the tenderest love and care*. Even in letting her leave himi her uncle had sacrificed liis own feelings in order to gratify hers. The knowledge, therefore, that lie had been prostrated by the news that she had written to him so curtly might have given her one pang; of rcnnnse but Carina had embarked on a journey that was to lead to only one end. Her whole being was engrossed i, v that bitterness and hope mingled, and by that hot, miserable jealousy •which had urged her to do so much wrong to herself. Too restless to sit pondering on what had gone, torturing herself as to what would come, slie got out of the fly when they reached the gates, of Yelverton and walked up to the house. With Isabel So me r to n she could go safely to work'. Money must be* forthcoming fj ovn somewhere, and if she l could not touch Mary for the moment she would draw on live other woman. But when she* reached the house she was destined to l>e* surprised and disappointed. The big door (that was always hospitably open at this time of rear) was closed, and the windows -nid the blinds drawn, significant of tlie fact that no one was in residence. Carina bit her lip and turned a little pale*. It had never entered into her calculations to suppose that Lady Somortou. would leave Yelverton. and as the door was opened by one of the servxrts and she* heard the confirmation of her fear, and ay as told that Lady Smnerton had gone away hurriedly the day before, she caught her breath sharply. , , ' She stood irresolutely on the* steps for a. little while, then plied the maid with questions. Slid asked for Lady

Scmerton’s address in London ; she wanted to know what had harmened, and if Lady Somerton was returning; and tJien with her brilliant smile she exclaimed, “It is verv important that I should see Lady Somerton —that is why I am bothering you so much.” “ii you can come in, Miss, I will ask a-s’k some of the others,” said the ma,d. ••As far as 1 know Lady Somsrton did not leave any message. She went away in a great hurry; she had a telegram yesterday afternoon.” Carina* passed into the well-remen-bered hall and moved about it restlessly, aimlessly. Her heart was on fire at one moment, and then seemed like a stone in her breast the next. “She must have gone to Paul,” she said to herself, and a distinct feeling of fear crept into her heart as this thought came. It had not been such an easy work to manipulate Paul Lester. The first week she had been in London lie had made her life a burden to her, haunting her wherever she moved' tormenting her with .letters, insisting always on the creat bond between them. She only got rid of him by. urging him to go to Paris and promising him to join him there very quickly She had got from, him all the information that she required, and now if she had come face to face with Isabel Somerton she would have boldly declared her knowledge of the situation, and as boldly have demanded heavy payment for her silence. This sudden absence completely upset her plans, and that sensei of mortification and humiliation which had come to her so forcibly when she had turned a wav from Mary and had been ashamed to look into Bay Conyers eyes, hurt again in horrible fashion. It was a touch of irony, too, that this sense of shame should come to her in this place, in this old house where tim e old sweet dreams had first been fashioned, and where she had so often pictured herself enthroned as mistress.

The maid came back to her after a it tie while. “I am sorry Miss Forrester.” .she said, '‘but Mr. Martin, the butler, is out. and no one else knows whether Lady' Somerton left a. message with liiinv I. could send on the address to the. rectory, when Mr. Martin comes in, if he knows it.” “I am not staying at the rectory, said Carina short!v “I’ve come down from London on purpose to see Lady Somerton. It is most annoying.” "Would .you like to stay a little while?” suggested the maid. “I don’t suppose Mr. Martin will be very long. He has only gone into the village, I he|jeve.n • Carina, paused a moment. Then the charm of the old hall, the sense of Tranquillity appealed to her. s 16 said abruptly, “I will stay. A\ill you open those, windows, and will von filing n» a biscuit and a glass of milk?” The. maid did her bidding willingly. In old Sir Ambrose’s time Carina was a daily visitor at Yelvorton, a. person of importance in her way, and it seemed natural enough to the servant that she should give orders and make herself at home now.

(To be continued to-morrow.)