TEMPTATION.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 3190, 8 April 1911, Page 5

TEMPTATION.

13j J£J!„ IE- ADELAIDE ROWLANDS

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

CHAPTER XXXVII/ The old vicar had. been laid to rest in his grave. Already the sorrow that had been so universal was beginning, as is the nature of tilings in lire, to pass away. ' The. weather was gloriously beautiful, and the hearts of the living turned to the thoughts of life instead of to the dead, however much that dead had been loved. The one topic that seemed to interest people most at this time was the news that Sir George Verney was so much improved in health that he was to be moved from the White Priory to Yelverton Ci|itle almost immediately. Lady Susan, it seemed, had already gone away with Lacly Verney. Some folk thought it very odd that Mary should go abroad just when her husband was recovered, but the old doctor briskly went to work (according to the private conversation that he had had with Lady Susan), and gave out that it was by liis stern decree that Sir George Verney’s young wife was divided from the arduous duties of sick nursing. “Another week shut ui> as she has been shut up lately,” said the old doctor, “and we should have had her seriously ill She has not got too much strength to boast of any time. Oh, Sii* George will.do all right/’ he chatted on. “He has got a nurse with him still; and his Aunt Agatha has at last been permitted to travel down and be with him.” f

When some expressed a desire to know where Lady-Verney was, and how long she and Lady Susan would be away, the doctor shook his head. But he always managed to infer that the travellers would be home very soon. Lady Susan had opened her heart completely to-this old friend. She needed an ally, and she knew she would have one here. The day after the funeral of David Forrester she had gone to London .and before she went she had a brief interview with George Verney. It was a very painful interview. The tender sorrow-laden heart of the woman who loved George Verney was pierced with a new pain as she looked into his eyes, and knew that he was passing through a very agony of mental suffering. , Mary’s name was not even mentioned between them, yet Lady Susan knew that George understood very well why she was leaving the White Priory. For Mary had kept her promise, she had written to Lady Susan. It was true she had given no definite address, but the mere fact that she had written seemed to lift Lady Susan’s spirit- a little. Just as she was. about to drive away from the White Priory she saw Tom Carter standing a little way off looking at her eagerly as though he would have spoken, as though he had some message to deliver.

Lady Susan beckoned him towards her. t “You want to speak to me, Tom?” she said Tom’s face flushed.

“Yes. my lady—it—it’s about Miss Mary—” : - “Miss Mary?” repeated Lady Su-

san. “Tes, my lady. I always call her as I used to call her in the old days. You see, my lady, I knew her. Yes. and I knew her father' too! And on! my lady, I’ve been so unhappy about her, for she’s been in sore trouble, I know, and I couldnjt do nothing for her. But now I can. Leastways I think I can now, my lady. I know she’s gone from here because she is unhappy and I can’t sleep at night for thinking about what’s passing with her. She promised me as p’raps she’d let me help her one day, out she aint turned to me ,and now, my lady,' I feel as I must speak to you —it’s about my aunt.” in this humble fashion, Tom gave- a brief outline of Mrs Carter’s dislike to Mary, and- what had linked the girl to her in the past, and then he went on to explain how his aunt had come to his cottage and had stolen the letters which he had meant to give to Mary. “And I know she’ve settled to do mischief, my lady,- somehow,” he said, “and maybe there’s summafc in these letters which might do harm to Miss Mary.” Lady Susan stood silent for a moment. There was a mingling of expression in her face. Suddenly she spoke to Tom. “Change your clothes,” she said, “and come to London with me. I shall be staying at this hotel.” She wrote the .address, on her card. “Come there direct, and LI will see you at once; I myy have' need, of you.” ■ Tom’s face lit. up. These words seemed to put new life into/him,' for he had • fretted terribly si rice- the -day : he had heard that Lady Yerhey had gone away so strangely. Witli his whole heart longing to serve her., it was so hard for him to have been able to do nothing. And now, perhaps, the chance to help her might come after all 1

* * * * As the days went past, and there came no sort of-disagreeable protest in connection with that forged cheque, Carina began to feel quite at case. She had not miscalculated; Baron Detchmar was more than delighted to renew his acquaintance with her. Her warmth of manner was an agreeable change from her former haughtiness. ' He was not deceived by the outward show of prosperity. Leopold Verney was not a stranger to him, and he was convinced that the parade that Carina and her husband were making was all on the surface. The acquaintance ripened quickly into an intimacy, though in justice to Leopold Verney itj must lie said that lie made an attempt to prevent a close association between his wife and this man, who, though so enormously wealthy, was both'vulgar, disreputable, and harmful. Carina, however, had no intention oi being ordered by her husband. “What 1 have you to. grumble about?” she said to him once. “If you don’tcare for Detchmar, you need not meet him ; he is my friend. Don’t, forget what you are and how you did not know which way to turn for a penny when you met me. Things have changed with you; have .they not? You appear to be en joying, yourself very well. You are ungrateful. There are a good many who would , not mind, changing places with' you, I can assure you! I did not know that you was so particular.” Ca‘fina finished with a sneer, and then she turned away, leaving Leopold Verney to digest lier words as well as lie could. . , All this time Carina was in ignorance of what was passing with Mary. Except that she put on the most becoming and most expensive black, her uncle’s death passed away like a trivial event with her.' • She seined to have drifted as far away from her old associates as though she

had gone into another world. It takes very little for a beautiful woman to obtain and attract attention, especially in such surroundings as Carina chose. Those members fit the Verney family upon whom she called were, it is true, not very cordial, but this did not trouble Carina. She would rise, and rise with' them.

In those days she really lived as she had so often pictured to herself in her 'dreams'that she ought.to live. There was plenty of j money at the bank, and with Detchmar to help her she determined that there should he a considerable amount more before long. Though she despised her husband, she was fully conscious of the power of the name of the family to which he belonged, and in an incredibly short time she had commenced' to surround herself with a number of new friends. One day she had a shock. She was driving in her electric brougham, when she passed a rather old-fashioned carriage in which was seated Lady Susan. Carina made a movement as thought to bow, but Lady Susan only looked and passed her as if there was no such person in existence.

This made Carina bite her lip, but then she laughed. “Silly old thing,” she said, ‘as if 1 care ! Thank goodness I can do without her. All the world is not made up of such frumps.” But that same afternoon, Carina w-a« again, and' this time unpleasantly, reminded of Lady Susan’s existence. Whilst she was dressing for dinner, she was informed that a gentleman wanted to see her very particularly. The name was unfamiliar, and she sent out a message immediately to say that it was impossible for her to interview anybody at that hour. The answer came back in writing, m which Carina was informed that she must see the person waiting. With a frown on her face she swept into the sitting room. She saw before lrer a clerk, who. drawing a letter from his pocket, handed' it to her. Carina instantly recognised Lady Susan’s handwriting. The note was brief.

“Possibly it may not be surprising to you to learn that Lady Verney is at present away from Yelverton. During her absence she has deputed to me V) undertake the management of certain business affairs for her, and in connection with these I have received her pass book in which I find a cheque for a very large sum made payable to yourself. * At present I have not an opportunity of communicating with Lady Vernev, but there is something about tliis cheque which seems to me rather peculiar. In the first place. lam sure that Lady Verney could have no possible reason for paying such a large sum to you. In the second I noticed that the cheque is filled in with a very pomimitation of Lady Vernov’s handwriting. Purely out of respect to your late uncle’s memory, I desire that this matter should be confined to ourselves. Way I ask you to be so good as to inform me on what date you sent a receipt to Lady Vernev for this sum of money, and where and how you received the cheque from Lady Verney’s hands. Pray do not let this matter slip your memory, for as you will readily understand, it is necessary that monetary matters should be manipulated with the greatest care.” Carina’s face was very white when she finished reading this, and a cold feeling passed over her. Then her lip curled.

“Kindly inform Lady Susan that 1 will write to her to-morrow,” she said.

When the man was gone she hid Lady Susan’s letter in the bodice of her gown, waiting for a convenient moment to burn it.

“To-night,” she said restlessly, “I shall speak plainly to Dtchmar. That old cat intends to worry me, that is prttty sure, and I must be on the safe side. So Mary .has gone, has she? I suppose she kept her word and made a confession after all. . . . Well! 1 have done with her. I shall take no earthly notice of this letter,” Carina later on. “If Lady Susan begins to he nastywhat 1 shall do is to borrow the money from Detchmar, and then I shall finish the whole matter.”

(To be continued to-morrow. )