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Tk Douse on Marsh -0»- THE MYSTERY OF THE ALDERS. BY P'lwa -WAJIDXX. CHAPTER XVIII. rCont’nut l. 1 I was too utterly miserable to cry and when a little later, I retur ed to the bouse and undertook to play the accompaniments for Mr. Rayner I failed to gi'.-e the expression to 'my music. Mr. ftayner notic'd my de pression of spirils and ask.td me if I found the Alders so dull after my ex perience at Denham Court, at the same time putting away the music, saying we would not try to play any more that evening. '•Now tell me," he said, "all about Denham Court. I have heard some thing of your doings. Miss Prim, from another quarter. For one thing, I heard you wore the pendant I gave you.” “Yes, it looked so beautiful with my muslin frock. And, do you know, some of the people thought it was made of real diamonds.” "Did they really?” “Yes, and 1 had to laugh because people who had worn diamonds all their lives should have been so de ceived. Why, Mr. Carruthers said he saw a pendant like it in real ones which was worth fifteen hundred pounds. Do you think It is true?” “I dare say it is. Stones of that size would be very valuable. To whom did it belong?" "He didn't say. And It had initials behind it too Just like mine.” "How very curious! The same in itials?” "Oh. I don’t know! I shouldn't think they were the same.” “I thought he said they were the SS'lii?" "Oh, nol Ho wanted to see the back of the pendant; but I wouldn’t let him." "Why not?” "Well, you see, Mr. Raynpr, I—1 thought, if he still went on thinking they were real, as I believe he did, and he were to find out by the initials who gave it me, why—why, he would think you must be mad, Mr. Rayner, to give diamonds to a' governess!” said I, laughing. “Fifteen hundred pounds! Why, it would be about thirty-eight years' salary!” Mr. Rayner laughed, too. “That was very sharp of you," ha said. “ If he had been as sharp as yon he would have got at it and found out the initials, if he really wanted to know them.” “But I didn’t wear my pendant again." " Why not?” "Because people noticed it too much, and—and, Mr. Rayner, it is really too handsome for me.” He smiled and said nothing was too handsome for me. Then I told him ol how the pendant was taken from the desk and afterward restored to me with the initials removed.. But he did not seem to think this event of much importance. Then he remarked: " I suppose there were some ladies there with jewelry that made your eyes water.” “One lady had dazzling di: niu-.Js, they said.” “And what was the name of tho fort unate lady?” “Mrs. Cunningham.” “I suppose she is very careful oi hers,” Mr. Rayner remarked. "Oh, yes—you don't know how careful! She has one set of what they call cat’s eyes and large diamonds^ which she keeps—” "That she keeps where?” said Mr. Rayner, yawning, as if tired. "Oh, that she keeps always con cealed about her person!" said I. "Do you mean it?” ha asked, moab interested. “Yes, really. She told me so. And nobody In the house, not even hci maid, knows where they are. Shs sleeps with them under her pillow." Mr. Rayner rose. "Well, I don’t think even the re sponsibility of diamonds under youi pillow would keep you awake to-night, for you must be tired out.” He was fidgeting about the room, as if he were anxious to get to bed, too.. But he did not look sleepy; his eyes were quite bright and restlesa. He gave me my candle. “Pleasant dreams of Denham Court, madam, though you don’t deserve them. What business have you to re peat secrets that have been told you ia confidence?” "Oh, Mr. Rayner, as if it mattered— to you!” said I, laughing as I left the room. "Yes, it is lucky you told it to meb N he answered, laughing back. cry- pent a onn day. ji x want to lee's room Mm Rayner would leave it, so I was obliged to roeist the tick child's entreaties for me to stay. About ssven o’clock in the evening Jane came up to my room and said Haidee was worse and had been ing out for me. "I tnink she Is going to die, miss—I do indeed,” said kind little Jane, sob bing. “I heard Haidee ealling for you miss. They ought to have a doc tor but I don’t suppose they wilL Sarah don’t care and Mrs. Rayner don't dare—that's about it, miss." Mr. Rayner had given orders that Mrs. Rayner, being an invalid, was not to be disturbed by sweepings and dust ings and noises in the passage leading to her room, and no member of tho house hold ever dared to enter the left wing but Sarah, who bad entire charge of the long corridor, bed-room, dressing- room and store-room which It con tained, although it was shut out from the rest of the nouse merely by a heavy baize-covered swing-door with only a bolt, which was seldom, I believe, drawn in the day-time. But I felt that Haideo's serious illness warranted my going to see, and I went through the passage shivering with cold. I tapped at the dressing-room door. I could bear Haidce's voice and Mrs. Rayner sobbing and calling her by name. I went in softly, and with a shriek the mother started up from her knees; she had been on the floor beaide the bed. Haidee knew me, though her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with fever, and she wandered in her talk. 1 sat on the bed and tried to make her lie down and keep the clothes over her, for the room was as cold as the corridor. Mrs. Rarnor was clinging to the rail at the bottom of the little bod and watched mo with eyes as glit tering as the child’s I felt a little tre mor of fear. Had I trusted myself alone with a sick child and a madwom an on the verge of an outbreak of fury? Her bosom heaved and her hand clutched the rail tightly as she said: "What right have you to come here? Are you not snug and warm up-stairs in your turret? Why must you come d exult over me? You were welcome ouoovsr my- r? Would he to my husband. Then you took my spare her to me tboug «• would say when i om selt Was be still angry! insist upon my getting down and go. ing tbe rest of thf way on foo*? 1 began to get imp-itient f»r him to know me. But he looked very grave and thoughtful; and, presently, to my exceeding comfort, he pulled down over bis wrists two little uncomfortable woolen cuffs that 1 had made, and that ho had bought of me at the sale. It seemed to me that he handled them lovingly. Upon this encoaragement I spoke. “Aren’t you going to talk?" said I, In my natural voice. Vv e bad passed the hill, and were go-' Ing along at a good pace; but he gave the reins si/ch a jerk that the horse stopped. "You won’t be cross with mo again, I will you?” said I, anxious to pledge him I to good temper while he was in the first flush of his joy at meeting me; for it was joy. He slipped the reins into his right a put • stmt, shall b# j It is that i min*—I target tto number of the but you shall hare It; and 11 sura to get your letters. Now, if any 1 thing happens to alarm you, or yea are ill, or any thing, yon are to write et once, and 1 will return to Geidham i without delay. Aad, my darling—” I We were interrupted by Mr. Lowe’e fori ... anwel to leeea her bed finished ten, If image coming from tbe boose, rid Haidee was not He 1 said Haidee was not dangerously ill Os yet, but she should be removed from the Alders to a drier climate when she got better. tils that young Reade? Is that too, I Laurence?” said the doctor, peering ! out of the carriage window into the deep shadow of tbe trees behind me. Laurence came forward. "Yes, Dr. Lowe.” . “Oh, ah! Come to Inquire about the tick child, I suppose?” “No, Dr. Lowe. I drove back from Beaconsburgh with my father and this sdtea, IK i bedside, i band ana put his other arm round mo ^7* Mter calling upon you, and I am and kissed me. Shetland veil and all. BHyiug good-bye to her, as I am going abroad, and shall not see her again un- CHAPTBB XIX. Mr. Rayner was rights I was eery tired; and the next morning I over slept myself, and did not come down stairs until breakfast was more than half over. It had been unusually punctual, and, to my surprise, the brougham came round to the door as I went into the dining-room, aad 1 found Mrs. Rayner in out-Jocr dress at tha tab’,:.” "Well, Miss Christ ie, we have all got tired of you; so we are going to leave you all alone at the Al<lers,’”said Mr. Rayner, when ho saw my astonished face. And I found that he was going up te town for a few days, and that Mr*. Rayner was going wigh him as far as Beaconsburgh station. He was going on business, he said, and would per haps not be back until Saturday. This was Tuesday. “Would you like to go to Beacone* burgh with us? You havoaio lesson to do, as Haidee is still in be<T” Although Mrs. Rayner did not re ceive the proposal with enthusiasm I could not w< M retire to comply ui Mr. Ravner's wi-aes, and we rode in the station tog t ier, arriving a gri n deal too soon. Mr. Rayner said tii me, as I was standing by him: "if any thin,; should hanp u while I am awav—If Haidee should g t worn- or Mrs Rayner frighten you—to’eg ■ pa me at oneo to Charii r Ci don’t know hat I sh.i.l sr p •re, be lt will reach me. Just wr :!.o dis patch without saying ft \ o.u ’ an>' body cud lake it’stniig'it to Sam and ti ll nan to go 1 > the station wiih it at | once Mind to Sum; don't trn«t any of the women servants." Th -r> Mr. Rayner walked tip and down the plat- form tolling every body he was going to London. Finally the train came up. He said , f ood-bye affectionately te hia wife and indly to me; we saw him off and then drove back to Geidham. Mrs. Raynei only spoke once on our return and that was in reply to asy remark thnt if was cold. "Then you had belter order them to light the tire in your room early. Mis* Christie. Mr. Rayner will upset the I whole household u you take eeM wtitis be ie .s A t > —■ ■ —» SUi my child. (Jan y now she is dying?” I had heard that one talk to mad people as if them sane; so 1 said; "Not dying, Mrs. Rayner; don’t say that. I came down just to see if I could be of any use. Why don't you take her into your room? It is so cold in here. And wouldn’t it be better to send in for Doctor Maitland? Oh, 1 forgot! He is away. But you might send Sam to Beaconsburgh for Doctor Lowe." Her manner changed. As she looked •t me, all the anger, all the little gust of defiance faded out of her great eyes, and she fell to sobbing and whisper ing: “I dare not—I dare not!" “May I take her into your room, Mrs. Rayner?" "No, no.” "Then, if you wlH allow me, I will take her up into mine. Yon know it is warm up there and it won’t matter if she does throw the clothes off her.” Mrs. Rayner stared at me helpless- ly- "Will you dare?” she asked, fear fully. "Certainly, with your permission.” “You know very well that my per mission is nothing,” sobbed she. I was rather frightened myself at giving orders to Sarah, and just as I was debating tbe matter she entered the room. I attacked her at once and told her I had de cided it would be better to remove Haidee to my room, and directed her to see that the bed was taken there at once. She inquired in an insolent man ner by whose authority I gave such or ders, and I replied by Mrs. Rayner’s. “Is that all the authority you have, miss?” “No,” said L boldly; "more than that—Mr. Rayner’s!” She stared, and then withont a word took np tbe bed and walked out of the room. I turned to Mrs. Rayner. "Don’t be alarmed about Haidee,” I said, gently. “I'll take great care of her. And if you will jnst give your consent, 1 will send for a doctor on my own responsibility." The poor thing stooped and kissed one of tne hands I held round her child. "Heaven bless you. Miss Christie!” she murmnred; fend, turning away, she burst into a flood of tears. 1 lifted the child in my arms and car ried her to my room, where I found the bed ready. And novy to get a doctor, for I was seriously alarmed about the child. There was no one about the premises I could send to the village. There was only one tiling to be done; I must go myself. I went to the nursery and called Jane. "Go aad aek cook, if she is not asleep, to lend me her big round water proof cloak, Jane.” saidl, “and bring me one of Mias Haidee’s Shetland veils ” She ran away, astonished, to fetch ■n; and then, seeing that I was in ^t, she helped quickly and well to » •> me as 11 -e a middle-agedcouatrr woman as possible by buttoning my cloak, fastening a garden-hat round my head like a poke bonnet, and atlaching my veil to it Tiien she tied up my um brella like a market-woman's, and let me out giggling a little at my appear ance. but promising faithfully not to leave Haideo till ray return, and to "stand up Sally” if she interfered. I felt rather frightened as I heard the hail door close upon me and realized that three and a half miles lay be tween me and Bcaeonsburgh. It waa a cloudy night and the moon gave hot little light I had rot past the Geid ham cottages and on to a piece of road where there were no houses in sight when I heard the sounds of a vehicle eoming along at a good pace behind me. it slackened to come up the bill, and L to keep up my character, bent over my nmlirella and walked more slowly. But this subterfuge bad ap un- desired elect "HhIIo my g»od woman! Would you like a Hit n>> the hill?” cri -d the And so we made it up without a word of explanation. i I told him my errand, and he told me his. HU father had gone up to town that day to arrange to purchase a farm for Lanrence a few miles off, which was to be stocked, according to his promise, while h.s son was away. He was to return by a train which reached Beaconsburga about ten o’clock, and Laurence was on t!>c way to meet him. "We will call at Dr. Lowe's first, and then you shall go on with me to the station and see my father,” said he. I protested a little that I ought to go back with the doctor; but of course he carried hU point “What do you want a farm for, Lau rence?” 1 asked, as we waited outside the station. “What do I want a farm for? Why, to havs a home for you and something to live on, of course! I know some thing aboat farming, and it doesn’t matter if I do lose a little just at first” "But why did you want to goon pre paring a home for an ‘accomplished coquette,’ whom yon taid last night you were never going to see again?" "One isn’t ans -erable for all one says to a tormenting little witch like you," said Laurence, laughing. “You didn’t suppose I wss really never go ing to see you again, now, did yon?” "I shouldn’t have cared,” said L “Ah, I was right about the coquetry! Well to-morrow evening I shall call at tbe Alders and ask boldly for Miss Christie. So mind you are not out, and we shall have agood long talk together, since, thank Heaven, Sir. Rayner is away; and I will give you an address where a letter will reach me.” We were so intent upon our conver sation that I did not notice that there was a man standing very near to ns during the last part • f it. As Laurence finished speaking, he turned his head, and suddenly became aware that the tram had come in while we were talk ing. "By Jove! Wait for me, darling," he cried, hastily, and then dashed off so quickly that he ran against the man, who was dressed like a navvy, and knocked his hat off. When ho returned with his f. lher. who gr et<4 ne kiudiy, he looked pa.e and anxious. “Do you know who that ina.i was I ran against?” ho whispered. “That navvy?” “It w; s no navvy. It v. as Ur. Ray- ner.” “Laurence!” said I, Incredulously. “I tell you it was—I swear it! Y* bat was he doing, skulking about in that get-up? He came down by this train. He must have overheard what, we were saying. Now mark what 1 say, Violet —I shall not see you again.” "But, Laurence, how could he pre vent it? You will come to the house and ask for me—” “Listen, Violet,” he interrupted. "If you do not see me to-morrow night be fore seven o’clock, ! e a. your ‘nest,’ without fail at half ,>a-t.” “Very well, 1 wi.l, L-ur nee—I wiB. I promise." But nothing won’d reassure him. “I toll you it will be of no use, my darling—of no use. We must say good-bye to-night, for I shall not see you again.” ' chap. :b XX. Daring the drive bock to Geidham Laurence w:. silen<. .caving his father to do the tailing. When we reached the Alders be alighted and after help ing ma out told his father to drive on as m would walk the rest of th« way. He came inside the gate with me. “Violet,” he said, verr gravely *1 fear I have done wrong in consenting to my father', wishes.” He was pJaying nervously with my hand, holding it against his breast, and looking into my eyes so miserably, poor fellow: “Look here, Violet!” said he. suddenly, as If struck by a happy thought. “If any man, while I am away, tells you you are nice, and tries to make you think ho is very fond of you—no matter who it ‘ driver: and my li.art leaped up, for it was Laurence's voice. In a motto.it I 1. It like a different wom :n; my b oot s.eni .1 dancing for joy, mv puls, s benl ns.re quickly, and the sj irit of ntiscle f esmo into me so that I want d to laugh aloud. "Ay, ay!” 1 gruni d out slowly; and, waiting tint 1 the e rt came up to me, I climbed witiih.s help and wi la seeming dilBcnlty. "All right?" said he; and again I untod, “Ay, ay!" and on he went, r happy I felt to be ag: his side! But it waa rather bard not t# be able to Uke the hand that was near est tome, and nestle up to k «shoulder, and toil him how M 'serabie I had been siuco last night, wh n he had rushed away wllh the dreadful threat of not seeing me again. WoU, now he should rery -Mr. Ravner or—or my father, or any man—don’t take any notice, and 'don’t believe them.” But poor Laurence was more inno cent than I if he thought I did not know what he meant He was jealous of Mr. Rayner, and I could not persuade him how absurd it was. Isaid: "Very well, Laurenee;’’ but he was not satisfied. He went on try ing to justify himself—not to me—he wanted no justification in my eyes—but to himself. “What could 1 do, when my old dad offered to do so much for me, but let him have his way? But it was wrong, 1 know. Our engagement ought to have been open from the first; and his weakness in not daring to face my mother was no worse than mine in giv ing way to him. And now I am tor tured lest my weakn.es should be vis it si on yot, chi' J; for I can not even write to you openly, and, if 1 inclose letters to you to my dear old blunder ing dad, you will certainly never get them.” "Why not send th m io M- . Man ners, Laurence? Then t.hev wsui.t be quite safe. And you don't mind her knowing, do you? i think she guesses something afrva V. - .” said L smiling, remembering how she sent tne to the S ate to meet him on tho previous Fri- ay evening, the very night when he first told me ho loved me. He caught at the suggestion eagerly. "That is a capital idea, my darling. FI! go to her before hr akfust to-mor row morning and ask her to look after you as much as she can while I am awav. My mother tain ks she holds my destiny in her hand; hut she is mis t-run tea, "Ay, ey: ana on ne worn. i token; and within the next six weeks Oh, how happy I felt to be again by she must find U out; for, if she wishes - - - • ■ r ■ ■ to stay abauad longer, she will have to stay alone. By the third week in No vember I shall be back in England, and before the month is nut you must be my wife, my darling ” "Oh, Laurenee. ■ j soon!" “So soon? Why, it ia a century off! see me axauirhe could not' help him- 1 I shall be grar-beadod If we wait ao- eetf. inUt«titar»sn»«*tamfcifi»«ttsrwetit. 1 tm noteum wheee we til a few days before she becomes my wife,” said he, in a low voice, bnt very prou lly, with his hand on my shoulder. “Yv'ife, eh?”—incredulously. “Bnt it is a secret.” “Oh, ah, of courser’—knowingly. “So tids is the Miss Christie I’ve heard so much about!” And he deliberately put on his spectacles and stored at me in the faint moonlight ‘Well, she wouldn’t have turned the heads of the men when I was young.” We both laughed at the old man’s rudeness. “I have no doubt heads were harder to turn then. Dr. Lowe,” said Laurence, dryly. “Well, take care some one else doesn’t turn hers while you are away!” and he drove rapidly away. The doctor was an old bachelor equally noted for his rudeness and hia skill I knew Mr. Rayner did not like him, but I thought Haidee’s illness jus tified me in acting on my responsibili ty. His last remark seemed to strike Laurence as an evil omen. "See what clever Dr. Lowe thinks of your Mr. Rayner, Violet," said he, looking anxiously into my eyes. “Now listen, my darling. Don’t trust him, don’t trust anybody while I am away, and don’t believe what anybody may tell yon about me. What would you do if they showed yon the certificate of my marriage to another woman, Vio let?” "Oh, Lanrence, yon are not going away to be married, are you?” “No, child, no; and, if any one tells yon so, you will know it is a lie. And, if yon get no letters, and they tell yon I am dead—" "Oh, Lanrence, don’t!” . . "Why, that will be a lie, too! I shall be alive and single all the next six weeks, and at the end of that time I shall come back and marry you; and, if yon want me, I shall come back before, my own darling! Good-bye, good bye!” He kissed me again and again, then tore himself from my arms, and dashed away without daring to look at me’ again ; and, tearful and trembling, I turned to go back to the bouse. But Laurence's terrible excitement had communicated itself to me, and I stag gered down tbe drive, hardly able to see where I was going. I had told Jane to watch for my re turn and let me in w’.en I should ring. Just as I was goin- to leave the shelter of the trees and it is the gravel space to the port: a, I s w the figure of a man ma ing its w y from the stable* toward the hack of i.j s house. He wae carrying a trunk or portmanteau, which scorned to be ivy. He disap peared bciund th 1 * I ) n i l in a few minutes return d ,v. 4 by Sarah. And then 1 SjW ;.:at the man was Tom Pari;os; an 1 I would have given the worh. j(. i. •—w wliat he had brought £.u..a. T' . impression ol . -s wickedness which it (a . with the stranger had up • my mind had faded away, . s stealthy manner in visiting the - at that time of night aroused my spie >ns anew. What it Sarah, in h t ir. iter's absence, had been per- nus'leJ to take care of stolen property? They di appeared np the stable path aad i took the opportunity to ring the door bell. Jane came down, very sleopy, and admitted me. I told Jane to go to bed, and hearing no noise in the kitchen took my candle and slipped down there. The side door was ajar, and just inside was a small brown port manteau. 1 did not dare to inspect it closely, but it seemed to me I had seen it somewhere before. Then I turned and fled guiltily to my room. Haidee was deeping quietly and looked less feverish than when 1 went away. The firo was burning cheerfully, and the moment I laid my head on the pillow I fell asleep and did not awake until morning. Haideo was already awake, and un doubtedly better. "How did you sleep, darling?” said L sitting on tha bed and kis.ung her. “Oh, beautifully. Miss Christie. I hardly ever woke up once, and when 1 did 1 watched the beautiful fire. It ia so nice and warm up here; I should like to be here always. I think I should have nice dreams up here, not like the ones I have down-stairs." “You shall atay here until yon aw quite well, my darlin,;,” said L re solved to aik that she might sleep in my room permanently. "Miss Christie, I dreamed a dream last night with my eyes open, just like as if 1 were awake,” said she, after a pause. ••That was because yon were ill,” darling. When people are ill they dream like that.” “Do they—quite plain, like as if It was all quite real?” “Yes, sometimes they think they see people and talk to people.” "That waa like my dream. I dreamed it was while I was walking at the fire that the door there opeped quite gent ly and softly, just as if it moved quite of itself, and then 1 saw papa’s face, and he had in hia hand something red and sparkling; and, just when the door camp quite wide open, I thought I sat up in bed. and ho looked at me. And tjien the door s .r d to skat quite softly again, and 1 didn’t hear any thing—and that w i all.” "That wasn't r • adream.dariing. It was just a fatcy . .cause you were ilL" “Not a dream! Papa didn’t really ceme, did he?" “Oh. no, darling! Papa la awav in London. 8ee, the door is locked.” I was beginning s . oe the night be fore to be very sorry for Mrs. Rayner. The deep affection rod real feeling ahe man’festcd for h r< .did led me to woo- der if throngh Ha ~ee 1 might not have the power to draw n“orar to her and through sympathy w.to her come to understand her better. And what if I might be able to win my way to her heart an 1 persuade 1> r to leave Geid ham for a time, meeting Mr. Rayner ~ tUawl hie return with the nows that Wife ■ . ...hrnpAm. .. ebstt,Ted to me in a fashion usual with her. At last I frontdoor bell ring,, aad seemed to stand still with nation. But no on* came fetch me, and after a few breathless waiting, I ran down-etah*, unable to bear the suspense any long er. I met Sarah In the hall. “Who waa that. Sarah?” asked I. too much excited to think of n decent subterfuge. "Only out of Gregson's boys asking for Mr. Rayner, miss." Strange that Gregson's boy should ----- • - .|, t 1 it was seven I my "nest,” If Lanrence bad not oome before. I thought that hour would never end. It seemed to me to be getting very dark, too. When the hand# of tbe school-room clock pointed to twenty minutes past, I put on my shawl and had opened the win dow to go out, when Sarah earns in. “ If you please, miss, would you mind helping me with the store-list? Mr*. Rayner ia too ill to do it, and it has to be posted to-morrow morning.” “Oh, Sarah, Won’t it do in—in half an hour?” said I, breathlessly. "Mrs. Rayner will want me then, miss. It. won’t take you more than five mihutes.” I followed her out of the room, sup pressing my impatience as well as I could. But the task really did not seem to take long. In what appeared to be about a quarter of an hour I waa free, and I dashed into the garden, through the plantation, toward my "nest” I had not looked nt the dock again, but surely it was very dark for half past aeven! Yet Lanrence was not thei >! And as I stood wondering whetiier something was wrong, I heard the church clock strike eight What awful mistake had I made? Was he gone? Should I really not see him again? A bit of paper half hidden in the grass, not on my seatbnt under it, caught my eye. It Tvffltia leaf torn from a pocket-book. On it was scrawled in pencil, in Laurenoe’s handwriting; "Good bre, tnr dirtiof I Remember what T prophesied last ni(hL and. If no other waro- in* wilt aerve you. take this one. I called at the Alders at aeven, and wastoM by Sarah that yon were tired out with watching by Ha'dee, and were asleep 1 came here to ri ght, and you are not here. I know It la a tr ek, and 1 know who Is at tbe bottom ot It When I left yon last nirht, there were two men In a cart outside tbe (table gate of the Alder*. If any thing happens write. Write to me at the following address." Then fol lowed the address, and this acrawt ended with —"I have spoken to Mrs. Manners. Good bye my darling! Take care of yourself for the next a x weeks and you shall nerarnead lo take cars of yourself again. “Your devotedly loving "LAumaph” I kissed the note, thrust it into the front of my frock, and fled into the bouse and into tho school-room. Sarah was just turning away from th* mantel-piece; and by the clock it waa just four minutes past eight How the time had flown between my leaving the school-room with Santo and my going into the garden! CHAPTER XXL I eat down by the table as soon as Sarah bad left the school-room, and rested my head on my hands. I did not want to cry, though a few tears tyickied down between my finger* at tbe thought that I should not see Laurence again before he went away; but 1 wanted to put the events of the evening together and find oat what they meant. There was only one con clusion to come to; Sarah had deliber ately prevented my meeting him. The ring I heard had been Lanrenoe’a; and, after sending him away by means of a fasehood, die had hiui another ready for me when I asked who it wan. I looked again at Laurenoe’a note. He had called at the house at seven, he said. Now I distinctly remembered that, after l had heard toe bell and mat Sarah, I came Into the school-room and found that by the clock ft was half past six. I had sat there until twenty minutes past aeven, and during that time there had been no other rug at the hall door. And I had noticed how very dark it waa getting; then, just an I waa opening the window to go out, Sarah had oome in and asked me to help her with the store-list, and I had been free in a very abort time; yet on my arrival at my "neat,” the church slock had struck right Sarah must have put the school-room clock back. I had found her just now tanking from tha mantel-pleoe, aad I could not doubt that her objeet beingj^ained. house with a woman who would take so much trouble merely to prevent my having a last interview with my lover? The matter-of-fact deliberateness with which ahe had prevented my meeting Laurence alarmed me. Tha was Wednesday, and Mr. Raynei wouid not probably return before Sat urday. What new proof of bar hatred might ahe Hot rive me in those three days? I turned again to Laurenee** note. Why had be thought ft worth while to mention that he saw two men in the cart outside the stable gate when he left me the previous night? What meaning could U have to hun? It.had a meaning to me. certainly; but that waa because I bad men Tern Parke* bring ia the portmanteau and ratare across the lawn with Surah. The men tion of the cart revived my curiosity nnd ■till looking at the note when Sarah earn* to bring my candle, an oBet * undertook. I saw a look of meet and alarm come evur her her quick eyes fell on my note, and 1 took the precaution to learn the addrem I was to write to by heart before )n> closing this farewell noto of Laareaea’l with the first, which I still warn around my seek. Thecextntoraingl recrivedafatom from Mr. Rayner. He had been to tha Gaiety Theater to* sight ha arrived It town, and sent ma 1. mwmplad y gramme of toe oommenm which dM aa k had never boon to n Mr. Raynertu thudamaef a the atorien that fth maa—totgetoj VtSOB TflPPw-v wito^andathraokfiMfi 1 ds?*** - on ray am, ihaafioril •dnfair thought it' in a vase i room. So I , frock still tucked knife in one dirty of floweno* ■till oo the ha aaw there wae standing at the into the garden. I a ly. hoping to escape Mo catch algfat of me; bat crowed the room quickly * me. “Miw Cbriatwr It was Mr. CarrutHera. "They told me you were oat.” 8m rah’e work, thought L "No; I waa only in tho gairion.” There waa no help for ray appear ance now, so I qaietiy took tha pin oat of my frock aad let It down while he went on talking. "lam very, very glad to are yea. You ore looking very wril I am afraid," mid he, still holding my hand, “you have not been missing any of aa much.” "Well, you see I had known the poo. pie there only two day*,” arid 1 seri ously. •“The people there! 1 As if I cared bow little you missed ‘the people tharef When I eay you have not ueen — t —*-g any of us, I mean you have not been missing me. 1 can’t think wire you don’t like me, when I like yoa m much” “Oh, bat you do not understand ma, Mr. Carruthers I I do like yon vary much; but—’’ "There—you have spoiled ft all with that unkind ‘but!’ Don't yon think ma handsome? I am considered one of the handsomest men about town, I am tore you.” “Not really?” This (Upped out quickly, for I thought ie was in fun. I afterwards found out, o my surprise, that ft waa true; but I lid not learn ft then, for he looked very nuch amused, and said— "That ie blow number two; you art quick at fence for me." Than hia tone, he suddenly aaked -. ell, don’tyon want to know what a going on at Denham Court?” "Oh, yea! But there has not hami ime for much to happen. I left there an Monday and this is only Thu reday.” “Thera has been time mr a very am rious misfortune to happen, for ail that." he said, gravely. "Lam right Denham Court was farokan into, and Lady MiDa and Mm Cunningham and Mr*. Carew aad some of the other ladies bad all their mom rateable tawdry stolen; and a quantity of gold paste was taken, too.” I waa so atartled by tbh that for a few minntm I hardly what I wae doing. “Lam night, did you ray?” said I at lam, te a frightened whisper. "Yea, test right. Sit down,” aaU he, Undly, putting me into • chain " Thisaeema to have quite orenrhalared you. Why, child, year very Ups are white! Let me ring for ream ” “No, no!” I interrupted, starting up. "lam quite well; I am not going to faint Don't—don’t ring. Tell aa# aft about ft quickly, please. When did you find it out? Hava they caught the thieves? Do they know— “Stop—I can’t tell you sR at cnee. The thieves have not been taught yet, and wo don’t know who titty are. waa discovered thte shangtegl “Well, c robbery* "Xhte; How?” “Now don’t get < teO you all about ft. ladder wae found tying Lady Milk’ dremteg-rao which had bean opeaad by rraanhteg one of tha penes from the outrida. S waa Lady MOls 1 maid who tits alarm by a cry at right cf window whan aha went into'— , awsssrarir 5 * room has two doors: tha ana not lead into tea bedzmx unlocked and left thifcf, to pam into toe rtiM, to pom into the Mouse by. at firm right, nothing seenmd to been distorted. Thi ilnwlai tissii urn locked and te fta plaoe; o strong tin com In which LedyNMte kept tho greater part of her Jowote the locked-up wardrobe. doner Md ooma into tha r that he hoped all waa be had gone to the morning with one« era, a man named! “Tom Parkeef” “Yea. He hoops the key totes t house. And they had found f forced te, end n Bo and ostyp ders gone. Of oom quickly afl over ti one. There is too ft- Brety thing I methodically and oo loolred iVinrs bring fo that ft was not until after that the stolon Milk wd prove te too abeoli St a rob! SSL inem jewel goto with 1 talk l tagtl orijn “Y took my hi Jaa. thin itety •Hr tii*;] ■*£$» The wv* ■ • • 'i'