Austin wi "You d

CHARLES

DICKENS.

No. 178-THIRD SERIES.

PRICE TWOPENCE.

slight remarks he had allowed himself to make, Minnie gathered that money was an

BY ESME STUART.

Author of "A Faire Damzell," "Joan Vellacot," "Kestell of Greystone," etc. etc.

CHAPTER LXI. CONQUERED.

MAJOR BOND was spending the evening with his fiancée, who, dressed in a very becoming evening costume, sat in a low chair near the drawing-room fire enjoying the worship expected and received by a newly engaged young lady. She looked very lovely, though a man very much in love wod have considered her a little unsympathetic. Her smile came and went with too great regularity, her animation was forced, and her whole demeanour was too much studied to have deceived a true lover. Major Bond, however, did not altogether answer to that title. He had intended wooing and winning a pretty wife, the prettier the better. It is very easy to fall in love with beauty, especially if bearty is accompanied with a handsome dower, and the Major believed in the dower, and could assure himself by frequent glances that the beauty was not a thing of the imagination. Had the dower been wanting, however, the beauty would not have affected him in the same way.

Minnie, on the other hand, was dissatisfied because she did not feel happier; Major Bond's smart speeches had a habit of reappearing like recurring decimals, and she was too quick-witted to wish to repeat her answers. She was so well assured of her own beauty that even the Major's compliments palled and lost their early charm; besides, from sundry very

engagement, that she was marrying a man who was quite above thinking of sordid wealth, and the discovery was a little amazing, and brought the unwelcome thought with it that Harry Laurence's rent-roll was a well assured certainty, even if the assurance was in the future. Given no certainty on the Major's present prospects, Minnie found it harder to make plans about the future.

"But," repeated Minnie to herself at the same moment as she was smiling at her lover, "there is society. Harry's society would have to be sorted and selected; the society which the future Mrs. Bond will enter will be lively and select."

The Major at last took up the paper and yawned slightly behind the crumpling screen. Mrs. Gordon had insisted on keeping him at the Warren on account of the weather, and he had at the time

joyfully assented. Now he felt bored, for all had been accomplished-the dinner, the love-making, really somewhat ardent whilst the widow and Frances had pretended to be busy in the library. Then tea had been brought in, and the assembling of the ladies had diverted the pretty nothings, and now again, when a somewhat lively scene in which he might have been partaking at Aldershot would paint itself very clearly on his mental vision, he found himself once more alone with the beautiful but impassive Minnie. He was decidedly sleepy, and wished that his future mother-in-law had remained in the drawing-room.

This time indeed it was a real matter which had called her and Frances away. The butler had whispered that the cook

VOL. VII.-THIRD SERIES.

178

Austin wished to say straight out: "You destroyed the proof it contained," but the words died on his lips. She had known-yes, she must have known all along that this inheritance was not theirs. The stinging knowledge of this fact made him a coward. He had saved his mother's reputation before the world; but how could he act a lie before the one being who knew the truth?

Mrs. Gordon, on her side, was reviewing all the past actions. She had found the secret drawer. She had seen the diary and papers; but she had carefully not looked at them till after Bee's discovery. Thus far she was or could prove herself blameless.

On the other hand, the few leaves from the diary had been destroyed so lately, the motive of the act had been merely to put off the evil day so that it had not altogether assumed its right magnitude in her eyes, for the widow was one of those who build up a wall of well-digested arguments round all their actions, a wall meant to look impregnable to the outside world. Now the wall round that one act of direct wrong was not yet finished. The mother and son were therefore standing on two different platforms of thought and of motives.

Austin sat down again, feeling that he should never be able to tell her that he knew. Was it necessary? If his trust and respect were gone-how miserably gone!-why should he let her know it? But the fear was if by some clever reasoning she should again deprive the innocent of their right. If his own hopes were dead, for he hardly could now entertain the idea of marrying Grace, the heiress, he hardly could imagine himself bringing the deeply wronged girl to his mother who had wronged her, and bidding her love her as her daughter. No, the thing seemed too impossible and degrading to his sense of honour.

There was but one thing to do to do what was right; to leave the Warren and the miserable inheritance which had brought so much shame and misery with it, and to begin life in earnest, that is, to keep his mother instead of letting her keep him. Heaven helping him, the time of hesita tion was over.

"Look here, mother, we need not argue out the impossible now. I have found the marriage certificate of James Gordon, and I have taken a copy of it to Mr. Blackston."

Mrs. Gordon smiled, but it was a smile which made Austin's heart ache.

"Then, of course, Austin, it will be examined and well looked into. If, indeed, it is not a mere sham. I should not be surprised, indeed, if that poor wife, that weak, hysterical creature, who much wished to be a legal wife, had not bribed some poor clerk to have it inserted."

The very possibility of this made Austin feel as if he were taken in a snare from which he could not disentangle himself. He must speak more plainly.

"I think even a lawyer will agree that. when a woman writes down the name of the church where she is married, and that the register of that church agrees with her own account, then there is little chance of a mistake."

Mrs. Gordon did not move a muscle; her face was in the shadow, for she had sat down again. The only evidence of her extreme agitation at hearing Austin's plain statement was the softest tapping of her foot on the thick rug.

"My dear Austin, just the very proof of the poor thing's conspiracy, if I may use such a grand word. James Gordon always said that she was not his wife, and died without making a sign. The lawyers had examined everything carefully, and really we have nothing to blame ourselves about. Now leave Mr. Blackston to enquire into all this, and come and see our dear Major."

Both rose as if with one consent. Mrs. Gordon made a few steps towards the door, whilst Austin placed himself in front of her.

"No I will see no one to-night, unless I tell them about this. It is true; you know it is true, mother. Every hour we stay here under false pretences we are wronging the innocent."

"Austin, you strangely forget yourself. You forget that you are speaking to your mother."

Austin made a sign of negation, but did not move to let his mother pass.

"No, no, I do not forget it. Mother, mother, spare me! I have hidden the truth from the world because-because you are my mother."

"The truth?"

first time I saw the writing in the diary was when Bee brought it to me."

Austin did not notice the words of the reply. He was staggered. Had he accused his mother wrongly? He had believed her long guilty. Was the moving of the bureau mere chance? But the leaves that were cut out; that, at all events, was true. "Then when Bee brought it, it contained pages which are not in it now."

"Did it? Then it must have been a mere accident. The little thing was very loose, and several leaves were almost tumbling out. If by any chance some fell out, they have been lost; but what makes you think so?"

"I had read the name of the church on the evening Bee showed it to me. I read it hastily, and hardly noticed the name. Then when I looked to verify it, that page was gone. I racked my brain to remember, and at last it came back to me. I went there, and I found the name and date."

"Thank goodness, I know it all now," thought Mrs. Gordon, remaining exactly as she was, neither looking glad nor sorry. Aloud she answered:

"I never noticed the name of the church, so I fear either that the leaves dropped out in my possession or when Bee still had it. In all the confusion of her packing they must have been burnt. I am very glad, Austin, you have told. me all. I-I verily believe, dear boy" she came a step nearer to him, and placed her hand on his arm-"I do really, that you thought I had done this on purpose. Quixotic to the end! As if I should have dared to tamper with anything legal; only very, very ignorant people do such things. Even from no other motive, your mother is too much a woman of the world to have been so foolish."

She took his arm and led him back to the chair.

"Let us discuss this quietly. You say that no one knows about the lost leaves. That is right. It would sound too foolish; and you see how anxious I am-I have always been to have everything sifted by the lawyers. One cannot be too particular in these matters. Shall we, for the sake of argument, say that this thing is so, and that we must give up the Warren ?

It is a strange fact that a mind can be turned from its course by the stronger power of another will and that in spite of previous firm resolution. Austin had listened to his mother's speech without

uttering an exclamation; he knew as well as if she had written it down that she had done this thing; he knew that she wished him to believe otherwise, and gradually he was turned from his purpose. He was her son; he could not accuse her again; he must accept her explanation. His man's brain was too clear-sighted when once exercised in the right direction to be taken in, but his righteous anger had undergone a change; he could not now let her know in plain words that he knew she was guilty. She wanted him to believe a lie, and he must pretend to believe it-he who was the soul of honour, and cared for truth with almost an exaggerated belief in its efficacy as a conduct of life.

He sat down beaten and disheartened; he believed that his mother would always get the better of him, and that she would circumvent him in his best efforts. The prospect was terribly gloomy, and the whole light of life went out, for now and always at the end of his meditation came the one idea of Grace, and one look at his mother seemed entirely to blot out that name. Had he been alone, he would have given way to despair, but even this could not be shown now; he must think, he must try to act for the best, and he must try and make his mother go where truth pointed.

"Yes, mother; we must give up the Warren."

"Then I shall see about those poor girls. Their father's sin has brought worse than trouble upon them and upon us."

"Yes. They have suffered enough."
Mrs. Gordon laughed ironically.

"Their suffering is hardly to be put into the scale when compared with mine. They are young. You, Austin, with your highflown whims, hardly realise what I shall suffer. I shall have to go to a very small lodging. I have even spent some of my capital in order to get more ready money for Bee's marriage, and there was the getting in here. I am only now beginning to feel the good of-of the income."

There was a ring of such intense depression and such hopelessness that Austin's tender heart was more than touched. She was his mother, and she had slaved for her children for so many years, and now he had altered it all. He had brought sorrow on her grey hairs.

"Mother, don't speak like that. All this is not ours; it would hang like a load round our necks if the innocent were not righted. Give it all up, and I will work