Y Llan

urss MONRS-LYONNESS. BY CECIL ADAIR, Author of "Maid of tIle lIfoonjlower," "Quadrille Court &-c. Synopsis of Preceding Chapters. THE opening scene of the story is placed abroad, and we are first intro- duced to Elinor Masham, a lady who, while a nurse in a South African war hos- pital, has nursed Laurence Darcy back to life. She loves Darcy, who has much regard for her but does not marry her because he is not sure that a young woman of fisher-folk class, whom he mar- ried when young and left, is still alive. Staying at the hotel are Sir Fergus Danecourt and Lady Danecourt. The former is old and ill, and the latter young and handsome, and Sir Fergus is her guardian. He dies from an overdose of medicine, which he took of his own accord. Lady Danecourt and her brother, who is now Sir Robert Dane- court, return to England with the body. Meanwhile the reader has already been introduced to Lady Charles Vasseleur, her daughter, Joy, and Canon Conni- eton of Monks-Lyonness, in | £ ie west of England. Lady Vasseleur, has jusl; bought Penstock Priory. She turns out, to be a friend of the Canon's childhood, knows to him then as Deborah Chester- ton. She is told by the Canon of his Son, who, after getting into trouble, ran away years before. One of the Canon's girl parishioners vanished at the same 7 time, and he hoped he had married her. Elinor Masham, in London, engages a young woman-Lois Enderby, a Breton to read to her, and takes her down to the West to stay at the farm of the Penruddocks. Later on we are introduced to Captain Dermot Vasseleur and Joy riding together, and the captain tells Joy that he loves a woman he saw in South Africa devoting her- self to nursing the sick and wounded. It turns out to be Miss Elinor Masham, whom he saw nursing Laurence Darcy. Presently they come to a garden of the Penruddock farm, where Lois Enderby is reading to Elinor Masham. The captain recognises her and tells his sister so, and thinks she is probably Mrs. Darcy now. Next, Joy is coming from Monks-Lyonness Church and overtakes Lois Enderby and tells her that Captain Dermot Vasseleur would like to see the lady she had noticed her reading to. In, a short time Captain Dermot Vasseleur once more makes the acquaintance of Elinor Masham. Next, Canon Conniston is introduced to Lois, and then to Miss Masham. Dermot and Joy depart. The Canon asks particulars of Miss Masham as to Darcy. The Canon tells her the story of his missing son. Is Darcy his son? He thinks he sees a likeness in Lois to his son. Roderic and Alicia Danecourt are at Canterbury, and decide to motor West. They take up quarters at Monkshollow Farm, close to Monks-Lyonness. Darcy visits them. He acknowledges then that his father is Canon Conniston. CHAPTER XVI. ALICIA SEEKS A FRIEND. ELrNOR and Alicia were left alone to- gether., Elinor, wrapped- up till this moment in her thoughts and cares for Laurence, had scarcely realised that this would be the result of her suggestion. Yet when the walking party had started, and she turned back from the gate from giving them a send off, there was Alicia alone in the shade, watching her approach ,with a singular sweet wistfulpess of gaze that seemed almost as though it made a r silent appeal, the nature of which shfe could not determine. Elinor's whole being was at this moment 'curiously highly strung and super- sensitised. She had spent a poignant hour in presence of the man who had been long her lover, who was still that friend whose being bulked so large in her life that she had never been able to visualise any f uture empty of him, and of a lovely creature whom he had befriended, and towards whom it might well be that his own desires were tending. Upon that point she had not been able to assure herself one way or the other. The afternoon for her had been tense with emotion. Deep down in her heart were strange stirrings the trend of which she had barely understood. Yet 'now, as she turned away fiom. watching Laurence vanish in the"dappled sun and shadow of that woodland road, and saw the lonely black-robed vision be- neath the garden trees a voice from some unknown, unseen place seemed to speak tj her in words definite, t-igruiieant tersely authoritative. There is the woman you have wronged —whose life you have helped to over- shadow. Make therefore an act of repent- ance. Give up to her that love which for long has not been wholly yours. Let her know this—that Laurence lyarey is not for you. Tear his image from your heart. Then it may be that for her the sun of happiness may shine again." Elinor almost looked about her, as though to seek the speaker of this admon- ition. And yet she knew that it was but the voice of her own heart. Suddenly it had come upon her what she -must do, to wipe out, in as far as it was possible, the wrong she had accomplished Her act had been prompted by a mad desire to part two human creatures whom she feared we-re gravitating one towards the other. Her expiation must be to work to bring them together, while she herself stood aside to watch that glory of happiness from which she herself must henceforth be cut off. That which she had hoped might yet be her own, must be another's glory and crown; and she must work for-this end to be attained. In that-moment she felt that a veil dropped. She saw the end from the beginning. A sword might enter her own heart; but she must not flinch. She had suffered very many pangs before in her un- certainty and overmastering desire of love. I But at this moment she felt a great calm- ness and uplifting of the spirit. An act of supreme renunciation was before her, and from it. sh would not-she must not shrink. Surely the die was cast. As she returned, the gaze of Alicia fastened upon her. Elinor felt that there was some special meaning in that appealing gaze, and as she regained her seat beside her guest, she held out a hand in a spontaneous gesture of great grace, suggestive of reserves of some unspoken sympathy and comprehen- sion. Alicia clasped the beautiful hand between her slender palms, and spoke earnestly, Dear Miss Masham! May I try to tell you how glad I am that you are here!" It gives me pleasure to hfear you say so; but I scarcely know the reason for it." Ah, but let me tell you! You see you can never be like a stranger to me, even though we have known each other for only a short time. You know about that shadow-the awful tragic happening of my life! With others I could never speak of it. Roderic and others tell me to forget —to put it all out of my life! As though we could chain our thoughts! As though we could drink of the waters of Lethe at will! Dear Miss Masham!—will you be my friend? We are here together-so unexpectedly; and you are so gentle, so beautiful, so kind! It makes me happy just to be with you-just as Captain Darcy always says of you. It does him good to come to you-it does me good also!" Elinor's colour came and went. The stabs of mingled joy and pain were poignant; yet she would not spare one pang.. Only why was it that those about her thought of her so much too well? Lois —others in the past-now the gentle Alicia, bringing homage as though to a shrine; whilst all the while the sense of her own imperfections penetrated her, and shrink- ing shame often filled her heart. H I willqgladly be your friend, if you would have it so. And do not call me Miss Masham any more. You shall be Alicia to me, and if I can help you tell me. I should be very glad to think it might. be so. Let me hear what it is you want. I have been for long a lonely woman without ties. But you have a devoted brother H That is just it-my dear brother's devotion is almost a pain to me. Dear Elinor—if I could only tell you all, you would better understand. But I am under a promise! And perhaps it is better not. Only please understand—about that dread- ful night—Roderic was not to blame Not even as much as people thought! I can't say more; only just this. To save me pain he took pain to himself. And now the world is trying to whisper cruel things of him! Perhaps /Captain Darcy has told you something. And we have left Danecourt for a time. And I have almost resolved never to go back! No one knows this—least of all Roderic. But I long to tell somebody of my thoughts and plans. Elinor, may I tell you?" Do, dear, if it will in any wise ease you, or if I can by qhance help you." It is just this. A rumour reached our home that set. tongues wagging. Roderic felt that he was going to be cut by the county. And we came away. Something malicious had got about. A little more gossip, and people would be saying that- that—my husband "*met his death pre- maturely, by purpose rather than accident. And it would have killed me to ,have seen his life wrecked! We' came away; and now he is happy-in his perfect innocence he has the right to be-and he will forget and put it behind him. And at Danecourt it will be forgotten too—I trust and believe. Roderic was always beloved there. One day he must go back and take up his position. But I would like for him not to go alone Yet you said just now, did you not?- that you wished not to return." Yes, that is part of my plan. Roderic should go back there with a wife! Oh yes, I want him to marry—I am not going to have him waste his dear self upon me. He must cease to make me the object of his life. And yet-how. difficult it will be to persuade him that I can do without him And it will be hard, I know. Always there has been somebody caring fos me. I have never had to plan my life for my- self. But this cannot go on always. And I am thinking forward into the future." Elinor gripped herself hard; she spoke in very gentle tones. Surely that will not be necessary for any great length of time. Another protector will come forward in due course. There you have the natural solution, Alicia." U You mean that you think I may some day marry again? Elinor, I' think not. Elinor did not argue the point. Most young widows who have suffered like, Alicia might feel in this way—certainly might so -speak. Instead of debating, she asked, io Then what is your plan for the future?" The plan which is slowly coming to me is to make a home here-at Monks- Lyonness—at Monkshollow Farm. I think the people would take me as a permanent resident—would let their guest-rooms to me by the year instead of the week. I could have a maid and a butler of my own if I wanted, and a carriage or motor also. I am well off under my marriage settle- ment. But I shrink from the cares and responsibilities of a house of my own. This would be a compromise. And I am grow- ing to love the place! I could make here a home of ancient peace." H I can understand that. Monks-Lyon- ness throws a sort of spell over me tool" "Ali Elinor! How .glad I am to hear you say that! For listen farther to my dream! Roderic must go out into the world, he must marry and eventually return to Danecourt, where I am sure he would be gladly welcomed and received after an interval during which people will have had time to forget. But his trouble will be- leaving me lonely. Only here I shall not be lonely. That dear old Abbey Every day almost I go. there for evensong, I am to have a little donkey cart almost at once, and then I shall go to and fro independently. And I love that dear old man. Is it not strange that he should be Captain Darcy's father?" Yes; and Laurence will make his head- quarters there, if not his home. I am very sure of that, whatever he may think. So you would have one friend at hand-indeed two—father and son both. That would weigh with your brother without doubt." Yes." Alicia was silent for a few moments and then said softly, U I had not thought about Captain Darcy being here much, though it might be, of course. Elinor, I was thinking about you II wondered whether you would perhaps stay with me sometimes at Monkshollow if I were to carry out 'my plans? There is abundance of room. Your pretty little companion and your maid could come too. Sometimes you speak of being lonely. Two lonely people might do something to com- panionate one another! Would you some- times visit me?" Dear Alicia, I think it would be charming. Only I seem to know so little what my future life is going to be. I have been for long a rolling stone. I make no ties." a Ah, but that will end soon, surely! Come to be with me for a little till you grow strong and sound again. And then, of course, things will change for you. But even so we could go on being friends. Sometimes you might want a quiet home of rest whilst your husband went else- where And this place would draw him also, would it not?" Elinor gazed at Alicia with wide yet half unseeing eyes. Her expression was strange. Dear Elinor !—forgive me if I have spoken amiss. But I always thought that you and Captain Darcy were betrothed— waiting the re-establishment of your health." That was-the fiction—once," Elinor answered in a low, steady tone, but I think that it is now ended. In waiting we have both of us lost our youth. Our love for one another has grown middle-aged also." Elinor smiled in speaking, pressing her linked hands very close together, but keeping her voice quite steady, middle- aged love makes for excellent friendship; but would be a very poor foundation for matrimony! And I have grown exacting and capricious through these years of loneliness ,and ill-health. I should fret any husband to death. Men like to be the capricious creatures themselves," with a little half pathetic smile, and we age faster than they do. Often I feel Laurence a boy beside me! He is beginning to feel the same himself. He likes to regard me as a cross between a guardian angel and a very dear and valued friend. But such a man as he is wants other elements in a wife. Always there should be some glamour of mystery and of the unknown. We two know each other inside and out! There is nothing more for us to explore. We should bore one another all too soon. So, dear Alicia, put that thought quite out. of your head. Laurence Darcy will never be my husband, although I hope and believe that one day he will find a wife who can be more to him than I could ever be now." Elinor spoke Avith great earnestness, and with something uplifted in her aspect, as Alicia expressed it to herself, which charged her words with almost the power of a prophetic utterance. The two women looked at each other, wondering what thoughts lay in the hidden heart of each. Friendship was forming rapidly between them, and yet both 'were conscious of hidden reserves which might long exist between them, perhaps never to be brought forth into the light. The words just spoken sounded strangely in Alicia's ears, up- setting many preconceived ideas. But she did not seek to combat them. I If that be so, indeed, dear Elinor, then perhaps Captain Darcy may the more wil- lingly settle beneatli his father's roof. For I cannot believe that any man who once had been your lover and was now your attached friend could easily content him- self or find a new ideal. The new must suffer continually by comparison. Ah, if you only knew me better Alicia, if we are to be friends do not let us begin with false sentimenbd Do not regard me, I beg you, as a flawless woman « But no! A flawless woman I should fear, should shrink from! Dear Elinor, I .am so strangely drawn towards you, I cannot tell why. Perhaps, because we have both suffered trouble in our youth, and now we have been drawn together a second time quite unexpectedly. Perhaps our guardian angels are working together for this Do you believe in these beautiful, beneficent beings, attending us through life?" x But Elinor had no time in which to answer, even had answer been ready. Time had fled, and now the sound of approaching voices warned them of the return of at least some members of the walking party. u It is Roderic," spoke Alicia, H with little Miss Enderby. And Captain Darcv is not with them. Then he has remained with his • father. I am glad—I am very glad! "I, (To be continued.)