A Wandering Bride

Gisborne Times, Volume XXX, Issue 3497, 12 April 1912, Page 3

A Wandering Bride

BY MARION WARD.

Author of “Love’s Thorny Path,” “His Fair Lady,” etc. (Published by Special Arrangement: All Rights Reserved.) CHAPTER XX. Dead silence: one might- have heart, a pin drop so intense was the stillness while Mrs Vernon waited for Loveday’s answer. What was she to do? If she gave Mrs Vernon her mother’s name and address and that lady wrote to Mrs Maine, ohe would come at once to reclaim her rebellious daughter- If she refused, her kind friend and patroness would lose faith in her for ever.

“I am waiting,” said Mrs Vernon, with a touch of surprise that her generous offer should not have met with prompt aeceptance.

Lcveday fluiig herself on her knees before Mrs Vernon and looked beseechingly into her face. ' “I entreat you to trust me,” she implored the lady. “Mm Vernon, my mother has no love for me, and for the sake of worldly advantages she forced me to accept-- a- man for whom I had no regard. Don't send me back to her. I would rather fling myself into the river than return to my mother/' “You foolish child, I have no wish to "send you hack to her. 1 want to keep you. with me and do what I can to make you happy, but I must- have your mother’s name and address, because for her sake I will not bo a party to prolonging her anxiety about you. I repeat I have no wish to send you back to her. I will keep you with me as my companion, later on, perhaps, as my adopted child, but only if your nr-ther knows you are safe in my care.

“And now I am sure you are quite worn out with all tile agitation you have gone through, so you had better rest on the sofa in your own room. I will send you up some lunch, and after you have taken it you must try and go to sleep. I will come up later and hear what you have decided.” As Loved ay passed Mrs Vernon’s chair the widow put out one hand caressingly and touched her arm. “Do not think, my poor child, that I shall ever reproach you with the past. I promise you that I shall never say one word to blame you. We wilL begin a. new life together as friend and companion, instead of aunt and niece.”

There was a bright fire in Loved-ay’s room, and presently the parlormaid brought up a tray of lunch, placing it on a little table drawn close to the SOla

Lovedav ate and drank mechanically, but-it might- have been bread and water instead of partridge and fine old Bergim-dy for all she knew; indeed, she only took the food because she knew she would need all -her strength, and she bad no idea, ns yet where she should find her next meal. For Loved ay’s decision was made already, and she did not need time for reflection. She meant to leave -Glenross Villa and the friend who had been so generously kind, for she would rather bear poverty, hardship, and privation of any kind than tell Mrs Vernon her mother’s address and suffer that lady to write to Mrs Maine.

“Mother would come here -and force me to live with Lord Bennerton as fils wife, and when Mrs Vernon knew 1 was really married she would say that my place was with my husband. But oh ! I cannot do it! I was a child when I took those solemn vows, and I did not know what they meant'- I did not realise I was selling my woman's soul for a mess of pottage, aim I did not know the spiff of man my mother had bound me to.”

..Lovcday’s bedroom was over the dining-room, and as that apartment was never used by. Airs Vernon in the. afternoon the lady did not. hear the girl’s movements, when presently she got wearily off the sofa and took out of the cupboard a small Gladstone, which, had been bought for her use when she went withi Airs Vernon for a week-end at the seaside.

It- hurt Lovcday creully to take away with* her anything not really hers, but bought for Lucy Marsh, yet she knew perfectly from sad experience that she would not be admitted to a respectable lodging without some apology for luggage. Into the Gladstone she put a plain black dress, thequietest that she. had, a change of linen, the tiny cardboard box containing her wedding ring and keeper, and one or two other trifles from which she could not bear to part.

Sue was wearing a. navy serge costume, and over it she put a- plain tweed coat, serviceable and warm, for it would have -seemed to her almost theft to take -away the beautiful:-seal-skin: jacket Mrs Vernon had given her so lately. . When she had finished packing, she, sat down, and wrote a tiny note.to here benefactress.

“I shall love you all ray-life, and I shall never forget your kindness, but I cannot fulfil the only condition on which you would let me stay. I dare not give you. my mother’s name and address, for the day she heard where I was she would start to tear me away from you, and

ding me hack, into the arms of .the man I hate and dread,- so. .1 am going away. Think as kindly as you can- of the poor girl whose happiest time has been the mouths she spent with yon. Oh, fate is cruel! If only I had died instead of your niece I should be safe from all pain and-, sorrow.”

.She left the - note on the hall table as she passed it, opened the- front door with trembling fingers, closed it firmly behind her, band then went down the steps into the quiet, • fast darkening street. At the corner, she paused. Where should slie go—north, south, east, or west? She had no home and.no one WAuted her. Did she‘remember, as she stood irresolute, that this very evening Ronald Vernon was dining with his aunt? Did it corns to her head to wonder what he would say when lie heard the story of her fraud? Perhaps, for Lcveday trusted Ronald Vernon through and through, he seemed v> her a hero, a king among men, a defender of the helpless. Oh, if only Lord Beunorton had been like Ronald Vernon, her marriage vows would not have been such torture to Lovcday ! But night was creeping on, and she must not linger, soothe girl turned suddenly to the left and plunged into a long street- of semi-detached residences, houses of a far inferior type to Gleuruss Villa. Slie had gone perhaps half-way down the street when she heard rapid footsteps behind her, but sb.o dared not turn her head to see whose they were, though she felt instinctively that she was followed. Bv whom? Friend or foe?

On and on went Lcveday, her movements quickened by a terrible- fear that those footsteps were gaining on her. Then a hand war, laid upon her arm, and a familiar voice spoke her name“Lovedav, Lovcday, have I found you at last?” Tile voice brought back to tile poor little wandered her wedding-day and the kind, caressing manner of her sister-in-law, Mrs Carey. Strange that the last of the party at Ocean View t<> see Lovcday before her flight should be the first to meet her again. “Let me go,” panted, the poor child in painful gasps. , “Oh, Mrs Carey, have pity on me and don’t betray me.” Agatha Carey hesitated for one moment. Then the. better impulse of her womanhood triumphed over the desire to oblige- her wealthy brother. “I promise you that I will not betray you,” she answered gravely. “ Bennerton is in -Scotland, aiid u y husband-and I are going to join him here to-morrow. We only stayed in London a couple of nights passing through to do some shopp-n-g. Cap T a\i Carey is dining at bis club to-.ir.gbt-, and von will so? no one but me. so come bom? with me and let us talk over things. You can’t spend your whole life in hiding. Lovedav. T-ii me frankly what made you run away from Bennerton on your wedding-lay. and though I am his sister, I prom-.': you I will keep your confidence and help you to the best of my power.” (To be Continued.)