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A LURING GAME. I --:.I

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( Copyright.) A LURING GAME. 1'Y HARRIET LEWT ilathcn cf "The Secret of His History," "The Old L:fe's Shadows," "Sundered Hearts," Darkwood, &e. OHAPTEE XXXIII. RALLY'S FEW EXI3TINCE. After tb ir triumphant departure from Sandy L*nds, arid from the presence of the utterly disconif.re'I Mr and Mrs. Blight, Mrs. Wroat, accomparuf.i by Lally, and attended by the faithful P tfT?, proceeded withdrf ?>>olpj.tation to the Canterbury railway station. up ex- press wi, due ir. some ten minutes, and Mrs. Peters found opportunity to send a telegraphic message to ilrs. Wroat's housekeeper in town, the immediate return Pr mis- tress with young lady guest, and ordering that suitable p. eparations be made for their recep- tion. This duty had scarcely been fuiailed. when -the train csme puffing into the station, and the party tic;, their seats in a first.-« i;i3s coach, securin-- compartment to themselves. On -.ting at the London station Peters procured cab. "This LS niv last journey, Peters," sighed Mrs. Vv'vti\t, leaning back her head, as the cab rolled Out of the station and into the street. "My travelling days end here." "So you always say, ma'am," said Peters cheerfv ii v. "But y<ve no call to travel any paore. You've found what you've been search- ing for so long," and she glanced at Laiiy. You should stay at home now and take comfort." Th': nd is near," sighed the old lady— (c vrr," r. nd Lally looked at the old lady with a sudden keenness of vision. Her hooked nose and p<n'^d chin oeen.ed sharper than usual. Her h': (' eyes were i. i>^ piercing and lustrout thanv .he r \v« r.( ner feature* were pinched and < • ■ • all iter far* was spreAd an ominous orf.v or it 3t t»«.< to the experienced eyes of Peti'' at ti e lii^Ks-d heart was not properly .-ins its fmu-1 ons. I i turned WMIJ looked from the window « i ;rs in h-er -yea. Her heart echoed those C(Is "The end is near." In due lime tite cab came to a halt in Mount Street, Grosvenor Square, before the «tr.*r: and somewhat old-fashioned mansion wt h had been the home of Mrs. Wroat for mi-! than half a century. It was a double •h.with parlours on either side of a wide iiiui. and was built of brick with stone copings and lintels, and possessed a pretentious flight of steps guarded by stone lions, and a great oriel window projecting from the drawing-room. The íroat door of this house opened as the cab drew up, and a footman and a boy came down the steps and assisted their aged mistress to alight and enter the house. Lally and Peters came after, and Mrs. Wroat was taken to her own room, ont: of the ivur pirhmt-. <m the first floor, which she had appropriated twenty yeara before an her t ,ek\Iuh,r. Out of doors the September -i Ir was mild, bat in the room of Mrs. NVrofit. sea-coal fire was burning in the grate, and its è:nial heat in that great house was not unpleasant. A crii^or. carpet covered the floor crimson damask curtains half- draped wide windows that looted out upon a smK Mj!ie garden and crimson-hued easy- ehaii- d louches were scattered about the room in pi.i-tision. Mn, Wroat sank down upon one of the couche-, air. Peters bent over her, removing her huge s> iutL--shaped bonnet and her Indian shawl, i'ho footman and the boy were bringing in the liiprnjo. Lally stood apart, not knowing what to when the housekeeper, an elderly, plain-fentu. •. i Scottish woman, appeared. Mrs. Wroat beckoned the woman to come nearer to foer. "Mrs. Dougal," she aaid, in a clear, loud voice, and looking affectionately at the slender, black-iohpjtUgure of Lally, "I have brought home with I. my great-nieee, Miss Lalla Bird, who is also nay adopted daughter and heiress. I desire you to consider her as your future miatreM." Mrs. Bougal bowed low to the young ladv, and Mrs. Wroat continued Let the best room in the house be prepared for her use, Mrs. Dougal—the amber room. Ah, it ia ready ? Shew Miss Bird to it, then, and aee that her trunk is sent up to her. And have luncheon ready for us in half an hour, or less, Mrs. Doagal. We are nearly famished." The housekeeper again bowed, and conducted Lally into the hall and up the broad stairs to a front chamber, one of the state apartments of the house. Here, soon after, she left the young girl to renovate her toilet, going again to her aged mistress. U ThII is a wonderful change for me 1" murmured Lally. "I must he dreaming. So lately I slept in a barn with tramps and thieves, glad of even that shelter, and now I am housed is a palace. I am afraid I shall wake up preaently to find myself in the barn. Ah, I aerer even dreamt of such magnificence! She examined her surroundings with the delighted curiosity of a child. There was a fire behind the silvered bars of the low, wide grate, and its red gleams streamed out over the rich blue velvet carpet with its bordering of amber arabesques on a blue ground, and one long red spike of dancing light fell upon the amber silk curtains ot tne low canopied bedstead. The square pillows were covered with the daintiest of lines, frilled with real lace. The coverlet was of amber satin, embroidered with a great medal- lion in blue pilk. The curtains were of amber ja&in, with blue fringe, over white lace drapery, and the couches ana chairs were upholstered in camper relieved with blue. Lally observed two doors at one side of the room, and crossing the floor softly, she opened them successively. The first door opened upon a large and handsomely-fitted bathroom, with ::J 1r:a.r)I, :)C; ,C;: >.i. r,l¡ a Darkish rug. The other door opened into a beaetiful little dreesing-room, furnished to match the bed-chamber. A massive arnwire of carved ebony, with doors fcrraed of plate-glass mirrors, completely covered one side of the wall, and a long swing mirror, framed in ebony, stood opposite. 0 A gaselier depended from the middle of the ornate ceiling, and in three of the globes a mellow light was burning. "It is like fairy-land!" thought the girl. "All this for me-for me I can hardly believe it." There were ivory-handled brushes on the low dressing bureau, and Lally handled them carefully, almost afraid to use them. Her poor garments seemed out of place in these beautiful rooms, but she had no better dress, and with a smothered sigh she bathed her face and hands in the bathroom and brushed her hair and dress in the dressing-room. She tied anew the bow in her hair and her black sash, and her toilet was complete. She gave a last look to her new quarters, and hastened downstairs- to the chamber of her benefactress. She found Mrs. Wroat comfortably ensconced in an easy-chair by her fire. The parrot's cage swung by a stout silver chain from the ceiling; the ugly little dog lay dozing upon a cushion at -one corner of the fender; and a general atmos- phere of delicious warmth and cosiness pre- vailed. "Come here, my dear, and kiss me," said Mrs. Wroat, not looking round, but recognis- ine Lallv's step. The girl obeyed, and sat down upon a stool at the old lady's feet. Mrs. Wroat smiled Kpon her and talked to her, and when Peters sapae in, announcing that luncheon waited, LaYy and her great-aunt were in the midst of J a confidential talk, and their friendship had already deepened nto a mutual affection. Luncheon was served in the dinine-room, across the hall from Mrs. Wroat s chamber. The windows cf the dining-room opened into a small conservatory overlooking the garden, and the room itself, lofty and handsome, seemed to Lally the realisation of one of her long-ago girlish dreams. Mrs. Wroat sat at one end of the oval table, Peters at the other, and Lally took a place at the side. The footman waited at table, but was soon dismissed, and the three were left to themselves and the enjoyment of the .dainties plentifully dispiajed before them. After the luncheon, Peters assisted her aged mistress back to her own room, Lally lending an arm to the support of the old lady. "Ring the bell, Peters," said Mrs. Wroat, as she again ensconced herself in her favourite chair. "But stay I Bring me my little desk. I want to write a note. Peters brought a portable malachite writing- desk, and placed it upon a table before her mistress. Mrs. Wroat, with an unsteady hand. penned brief note to her lawyer, demanding his immedmu. iuu-in.ia.iice II, ,UH Her, upon a matter of the utmost moment. "Read it, Peters," she said, when she had appended her name and the date. It must be sent immediately. I feel somehow as if I had no time to waste. Let the footman take the letter to Mr. Harris and wait for an answer." Peters read and sealed the missive, removed the desk, and went out upon her errand. Some two hours later, Mr. Harris, Mrs. Wroat's lawyer, arrived and was shewn into the old lady's presence. He was an old man, sharp-witted, businesslike, and reticent, but honest, kindly, and devoted to the interests of his client, whose personal friend he had been for over a third of a century. Mrs. Wroat welcomed him with outstretched hands, and exclaimed "My friend, I have a surprise for you. You have sought, at my request, for my great-niece, Lally Bird, and failed to find her, even with a detective officer to assist you. I am neither law- yer nor detective, but I am more clever than yon both. 1 have found my niece, and here she is. Lallv, come nearer. Mr. Harris, this is Lally Bird, the daughter of my niece Clara Percy." Lally bowed. Mr. Harris stared at the girl in surprise.. "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Wroat," he ex- claimed, "but. your great-niece, Lally Bird, is dead. Our detective discovered the facts some weeks ago, but I feared to communicate them in your prevent state of health. I cannot, however, permit you to be imposed upon by a possible adventuress. Miss Lally Bird com- mitted suicide last July. She spran" from London Bridge, and struck upon a passing boat, kill, herself instantly. I hare a news- paper in Illy pocket Never mind your paper," interrupted Mrs. Wroat vivaciously. "Look at the girl. Has she not mr block eyes ? Can you not remember when I hall hair liko hers, and that clear olive si in ? ) ou are too suspicious, my friend. Where do sur>no?e 1 found Wlw down at Blight's, at Canterbury. She was governess to the Blight children. Now sit down, and I'll tell you the whole story. Stay; I am tired, and Lally will tell it. Question her, and Ix* convinced of the truth of my assertions. Sit down, Lally dear, and tell Mr. Harris all about yourself." LaMy lilt down nwir her great-aunt. She was a irigutoned under the searching gaze of the lxv.yer, but her clear, honest eyes met his unflinchingly, and he read in the sad and innocent face how deeply he had wronged her in deeming her a "possible adventuress." He asked her a few questions in a quiet,- careless manner, referring to a note-book which he produced, and then, his professional spirit stirring itself, he cr.>ss,-qnestioned her as if she had been a witness in court whose evidence ho was trying to hake, and upon whose impeach- ment the success of his case depended. He asked her her name, age, and date of her birth, and applied the snine questions in regard to each of her deceased parents. He demanded where she had been educated, how she had ma ntained herself after her father's death, and finally said, in a tone that. betrayed how important the question and its answer was to the establishment of the girl's claims: "I have discovered, Miss Bird—assuming that you are Miss Bird—that you left your situation as music-teacher, or, to be more exact, that the school in which you were engaged closed, and you were thrown out of a situation, in the spring of this year. Where did you spend the months that passed between last May and this present month of September? And how, I may as well ask here, did your hand- kerchief happen to be found upon the water at the precise moment when that poor girl who was drowned, and who was supposed to be Lally B;rd, was picked up? Laliy blushed and paled, and looked appeal- ingly at Mrs. Wroat. The old lady stroked the girl's black hair softly, and said: 'Mr. Harris, you have touched upon a point of which I, as well as my, niece, would have preferred not to speak. But you are my personal friend, and the confidence will be safe with you. Laily, tell Mr. Harris your story." Thufe adjured, Lally, with much embarrass- ment, told her story with a quiet truthfulnes that carried conviction to the mind of the lawyer after which, at a sign from Mrs. Wroat, Lally withdrew with the maid. who soon returned alone. "Now," said the old lady briskly, "I want to come to business. Mr. Harris, I desire to make my will. Have you the necessary form with you ? I want a will aa strong as a will can be made, for the Blights may choose to question its validity, on the ground that I am infirm, or something of the sort. Peters, wheel up the writing-table." The maid obeyed. Mr. Harris drew from his pocket n large note-case, from which he extracted a document, which he silently handed to his aged client. Ah," she said, it is my will, which I re- quested you, months ago, to draw up, without date or names, ready for signature when I should be ready to sign it. It begins by declar- ing that I am of sound mind—an, yes, that is all right. The property is enumerated, and the legacy to Peters is down. I must have the annuity to her, to be paid out of the estate, doubled. She read the document carefully and slowly, weighing every word and oentence. When she had finished, ile gave it k into her lawyer's hands, saying: Write in the name of the legatee, Mr. Harris: I give and bequeath all my real estate, bank stock, Consols, and personal pro- wrV tr-rry.j.-ot niecr, it I puuii auu string, ko tufa no one rut Lailv c-un get my money. I want the property settled upon her. 81ie may marry some day, if her first marriage was no marriage at all. I'll discuss that first T marriage with you at some '0r to know whother the child is bound or not. But nc husband must have power. to. squander Lally's money." TTi' *T'8 as was directed, making ont the will to the perfect satisfaction of Mrs. Wroat. Peters, at the command of her mistress, called up the household, and in the presence of the housekeeper, the housemaid, the cjok and the footman, Mrs. Wroat signed the will. The domestics appended their signatures as witnesses, and were then dismissed; Lally was called back to her great aunt, and soon after the lawyer took his leave. The next day Mrs. Wroat was so much better that she insisted on going out with her young relative upon a shopping excursion. She pre- sented Lallv with a silver portemonnaie, filled with banknotes, and early in the day Mrs. Wroat, Lally and Peters went out in the ancivnt family carriage, visiting the most cele- brated shops in the West End. The old lady did not permit Lally to expend the money she had-given her, but bought, and paid for from her own plethoric pocket-book, a magnificent Indian shawl, jewels, rich and costly laces, a set of Russian sables, a dressing-case with gold fittings, scent-cases, a jewel case, and 6t host of costly luxuries of which Lally knew neither the uses nor the names. "Why do you buy an Indian shawl for so young a lady. iiia'a;n ? whispered Peters, in surprise. "And why buy thoee costly furs in September ? I shan't, be here when the cold weather comes, Peters," answered Mrs. Wroat in a low voice. "And though I have Indian shawls which she will inherit, I want to buy her one for hei own self. She will keep it always, ixxtuxo I bought it for her." Lally, as may be supposed, was grateful for her aunt's kindness; she was more than grate- fill. But in the midst of her pleasure a pang Lshot to her heart. She noticed that although this aged relative bought her an abundance of all standard articles, and toilet appurtenances and dainty personal belongings, she bought but few dreiisee-a token that she expected Lally QQO. to put on a mourning, gqrb. Ar>r & visit to a laaies outntter, where i'-hs. Wroat purchased for Lally a trousseau ii1: for a wealthy bride, they returned to Mount Street and to dinner. The next fortnight passed swiftly both to Lally and her great-aunt. The health of the latter seemed to improve, and Lally and Peters entertained high hopes that their kind friend and benefactress would live many years. The old lady's physician contracted the habit of call- ing in daily, but even Mrs. Wroat suiiled at his anxiety, and accused him of desiring to increase his fees at her expense without just cause. These two weeks sufficed to knit the souls of Lally and her aged relative together in a bond which time alone- could sever. Thev grew to entertain a mutual love, which would be to the survivor a sweet and tender memory while life should endure. Lally's experiences had been very bitter, and she had thought she should aever smile again, yet in her aunt's society she felt a great degree of actual happiness, and waited upon her, and tended her, with the care and love of a daughter. She played and sang to her; she read to her; she listened with keen interest to the old lady's tales of her youth and soon Mrs. Wroat was heard to wonder many times each day how she had so long existed without her bright young niece; and Peters grew to love Lally with a protecting ten- derness. ° During this fortnight, which passed so happily in the great old mansion in Mount Street, Mr. Harris had traced out Lally s history step by step from the hour of her birth until the present moment; not that he doubted her, but that he desired to be supplied I J proofs of her identity, should the need arise for them. The lapse of the fortnight indicated brought the time to October. One evening, when the night was wild without, Mrs. Wroat, Lally and Peters sat lat9 in the parlour adjoining the bedroom of the former. Lally played and sang a grand old anthem, while the old lady's crooked chin was bent forward upon her gold- headed staff, and her bright black eyes fiileti with tears. Then followed some old-time hymns, such as the Covenanters sang in the lonely Scottish wilds, in their hours of stolen, secret worship. When the sweet voioo had died away, and the strains of music melted into silence, the old lady called Lally to her. The eirl came, and seeing the unwonted emotion of Fier aged relative, knelt before har and caressed her hand softly. The withered yellow hands were upraised tremblingly, and draped upon the girl's dusky head. "God bless you, even as I bless you, my darling," said Mrs. Wroat, with a great J earning over the young creature. "Poor orphaned child You have blessed my last days; may your life be blessed. Peters, when I am gone, stay with Lally. Be everything to lier-maid, attendant, nurse, mother—all that vou have been to me." I will I will! said Peters, as if regis- tering a vow. "And now, my darling, good-night," said Mrs. Wroat softly. "Kiss me, Lally. Again- again! Goodnight." The girl enfolded the withered form in her arms, and kissed the old lady a hundred times with passionate fervour, and then, sobbing, went up to her own room. iJ Peters put her mistress to bed. The old lady seemed as well cr better than usual, bus there was something unusual in her manner, and Peters sat up to watch by her. "If she wakes, she'll find old Peters by her side," the woman said to herself. How sweet she sleeps t Towards morning the maid dozed. Just at dawn she awakened with a great start and a sudden chill. She sprang up and leant over the recumbent figure of her mistress. How pale the thin, sharp features were! One lore lock of grev hair lay on the withered cheek3; the bony hands were clasped upon the bosom the hooked nose and the crooked chin almost met, but upon the shrivelled mouth was a smile far more sweet and love!y than any that had played upon those lips in the old lady's far-past youth —a smile such as at)gels wear Peters thrust her hand upon the sleeper's heart. It was silent. The heart, clogged or hampered by disease, had ceased to work hoars before all the machinery of life had stopped and Mrs. Wroat had awakened from her sleep in another world. Lally's generous and noble friend and protector was dead. CHAPTER XXXIV. A scupsun a KISS wrisi. Miss Neva Wynde, on finding herself con- fronted by Artresit at the very door of Mr. Black's wild Highland retreat, comprehended in one swift fiaeh that she had been betrayed by her enemies, and caught in a snare, as we have said-that, in ahort, ah* was virtually their prisoner. But after her first wild start of amazement, after the first wild glance at her enemies, she stemll repressed all aigna of terror or surprise, and although her pure, proud face was paler than usual, yet sne did not otherwise betray her fears. Mrs. Artress ben I she said. This is a surprise t You said, Mrs. Black, that she was staying with friends in London, did you not ? An evil smile played about the full, sensual lips of Octavia Black, and she looked at Neva keenly as she answered, with affected carelessness: I did say so, I believe. But I intended to surprise you. You are so fond of Mn. Artress, Neva, that, I wished her to be of our party. I am glad you are so pleased." Neva did not reply, but she drew up her slight figure with a sudden haughtinp"T, <ma ber pale, proud face wore an eTpr^asion of sternness before which Mrs. Bliok ought to have quailed. But oaitj laughed, as Neva thought, mockingly. "Come into the drawing-room, good people," cried Mrs. Artress. "I have made the house habitable, and I want you to compliment me upon my handiwork." Mrs. Black went into the room, and Neva followed her. Craven Black coming last like a h i; guard. bad aa x.-acc-.ih'rt&kls faelam that sin* i»'Si alroadjr a The drawing-room at the Wilderness was a lorg, barrack-like apartment, with bare walls, upon which were bung a few engravings. The furnituralwas old, but well kept, being a combination of mahogany and black haircloth. The six windows were curtained with faded damask of-the coiour cf mahogany, and an old book-case, containing a few old and worn volumes, completed the list of furniture. 'd "It's a perfect old barrack, Craven s*'d Mrs. Black with a shudder. "But I suppose it must be fearfully difficult to get furniture and such thinga up the cliff. However, if we make a shooting-box of this place, decent fur- niture and pictures and thinga have got to be brought here. This room is like a draughty old barn." "So is the whole house,* said Mrs. Artress. "But the place is so delightfully romantic and secluded and hidden, you know, that one can f Uii "P drawbacks. I have had my hands nil, I assure you, since I arrived here. How do(y°M«ke the Wilderness, Miss Wynde?" and secluded, as you say, L.' answered Neva quietly, yet with a shade ot hauteur. "Have vou been here long t I came direct from Hawkhurst, stopping only a day in London, said Mrs. Artress.. "I came by rail to Inverness, and there I chartered a fishing smack and loaded her with provisions and furniture, and bed and table-linen, and whatever else I fancied we were likely to need during our stay here. I had visited the Wilderness once when I was a girl, and knew about what we should require. I came on, sent away the sloop, and put the house in order. I have two women servants in the house, of the stolidest possible description. Yon will find it aext to impossible to make them comprehend your soft southern tongue, Miss Wynde." Neva wondered if the last sentence contained < hidden meaning. "It is September at Hawkhunt," continued Mrs. Artress, with a shiver, "but here one might swear it was January-the mountain air is so cold. Will you go up to your rooms ? "Yes," responded Mrs. Black. "When do we dine ? Mrs. Artress oonsulted a tiny jewelled watobe on.,f ,recent acquisitions,

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A LURING GAME. I --:.I