The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-12-06 00:00:00

tALL RIGHTS RRBHRVED.3
AMBITION'S LADDER.
13y tho Author of " ittherstone Grange;
_0 A Lifo for
a Love," 4•e. .

CHAPTER XXX.—( Continued).

Mr. Sartoris made no answer; he had none
ready, and she rose to go, but as she turned her
head from him a low sob burst from her lips
that roused all the kindly feelings of his nature,
and he insisted upon her resaining her seat
.for
awhile.

"I must be cautious in such a case," he sad.
"But I cannot think you have any—pardon the
word—guilty reason for your silence. Consider one
moment—if this matter is of such a vital importance
to you --"
"It means whether I am to earn my bread or
starve," she broke in. "For must not the same
-answer always be given me ? '
"The more reason you should throw aside con-
tealment. Come, lam a lawyer, and have received
many confidences in the course of my life. Give
me yours—show me some good cause for your in-
ability to procure references, and I will consider the
matter again. If—as I imagine it may be—pride
stands in the way--"
" Pride ! Ah, how you mistake," she cried,
vehemently interrupting him. "What should such
a creature as Ido with pride? No, no. My reason
is a simple one, I cannot do as you ask."
"Cannot!"
" No."

Mr. Sartoris was rather puzzled, and looked so.
"I must confess I don't quite understand," he
said. "You tell me that your father held high
"link in the Austrian service —he must therefore
have been of good birth—and yet you are unable to
get anyone to support your statement."
"And yet it.is plain enough," returned Miss
Desmond, after a momentary pause, during which
she seemed to arrive at some resolve. "What I
have told you is perfectly true, and yet, though
many knew my father, /have not a friend in the
world."

•‘ Impossible !"
"But true, Mr. Sartoris. Not the most forlorn
wretch upon the face of the 'earth is more forlorn,
snore utterly alone and friendless, than I. Judge
for yourself. lam scarcely twenty, but till within
a few months back I knew neither care nor sorrow.
I lived with my dear mother in a villa a few miles
outside Prague. There all my life has been passed,
save for a few short visits to Vienna. We saw no
visitors except one mv father. He came often,
and if I sometimes wondered why he did not stay
with us altogether I was easily satisfied with my
mother's explanation, that his position at Court
prevented it. It never struck me to enquire why
we did not join him, and I might still have been in
ignorance of the truth but that an accident befell
my father. He was killed by a fall from his horse,
•and the news—brought by his servant—gave my
poor mother, who had long been in delicate health,
her death blow, and left me orphaned, friendless,
and without a home, without means, save a small
'sum realised by the sale of my mother's jewels."
"But, surely I" interposed Mr. Sartoris. "In
=such a case your father's friends would aid."
"I have not told you all. He died a rich man,
and yet I could claim nothing. Do you not under-
stand now !"

Mr. Sartoris began to fancy he did understand,
:a. little, if not quite everything, and Miss Desmond
proceeded.
"A few hours before her death," she • went on,
-"my poor mother recovered from the state of un-
-consciousness into which she had fallen on hearing
of the accident which killed her—protector. You
see that I use plain words, sir. Yes. He was not
her husband, she told me. Could not be, for he had
,ft wife living in Vienna, a proud, cold woman of
high birth and immense wealth. She—my mother
—had been a governess in an English family—she
-was English, too, herself, and we always spoke it to
each other—when Count Desmond met her first, and
they learned to love each other. He neverattempted
to deceive her, she told me, and she, an orphan,
with no family to disgrace, at laid yielded to his
prayers, her own heart, and accepted his
protection. Nor had he ever given her cause to
:repent it, she said, being always most tender and
devoted. Her only cause for grief was the stigma
I must endure through her fault, but that at least
mould be partly atoned for by the fortune I should
inherit under his will, which I should find in a
drawer she described to me, and of which she gave
me the key. That night, my arms round her neck,
ft prayer for my happiness upon her lips, my mother
-died."

"And the will?'
"Was nowhere to be found. Lawyers came and
-seized the house with all that was in it, a few paltry
trinkets of small value, and my own clothing alone
excepted. The countess's instructions, I was told,
'Were that I was to leave the villa immediately after
My mother's funeral, which took place within two
days, and I obeyed, for even if appeal would have
been of anfuse I could not stoop to sue to her.
My mother buried, and the father whose na no I
had no right to bear dead also, with hardly an
acquaintance, much less a friend to whom I could
turn for advice or help, I resolved to come to
England and try to turn what poor talents I possess
to account. But though I have been here nearly
,six months I can find no work, no one ready to trust
me for what I am. My last sovereign is in my purse,
and that gone I shall be destitute.
" Poor girl! poor girl !" muttered Mr. Sartoris,
-moved more than he would have cared to acknow-
iledg,e by the mournful pathos in the voice of the
Speaker, who had not told her story without some
breaks and evident difficulty which he attributed to
pain and emotion. "It is indeed sad. But did not
your mother speak of her relations ?"
Miss Desmond shook her head.
"She, too, was an orphan, and had none," she
replied, in the same low voice. "Now you can judge
for yourself whether it is possible for me to satisfy
'you."
"As far as I am personally concerned I may say
that I am already satisfied," answered Mr. Sartoris,
-who, for a lawyer, had certainly allowed himself
to swallow the most outrageous romantic story
he had ever heard, with very little exercise of
-wisdom—perhaps because it was so outrageous
that he never dreamed of the possibility that it
was lconcocted for the occasion. "More than
natisned, indeed, and if I can help you in any way
I will."

"Except the one," she said, a little bitterly.
4 You will not risk exposing your ward to the com-
panionship of one who has no legal name."
"Nay, that is no fault of yours," he rep'ied,
gently. " But I 'Dermot decide at once. Miss
Trenchard has another guardian whom I must con-
sult first. But if you will leave me yaur address—
oh I have it, of course—l will let you know the
result by to-morrow morning at least."
And BO the interview ended. What the result
was is already known through the letter which
George Sartoris received from his father. Doctor
Sampson, easily persuaded, impulsive as he was,
was hardly likely to have doubts when his long-
headed co-guardian expressed himself satisfied, and
the same night's post conveyed a note to Miss
Desmond, requesting her to call again at Chiswick
next day, a summons which she was not slow to
tomply with, and settle as to terms.