Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1908-11-03
Hidden
Perils
By MARY CECIL HAY
CHAPTER VII.


rode up to IT,
Why, Athol," he exclaimed, as he dis
mounted, you don't mean to tell me you
start on your daily rounds so early as
this?"
No, not usually, but I have an unex-
pected and hasty summons into Alton,
and as l am obliged to walk, must
start at once. No train stops at Kumley
for the next two hours
"Then l am glad 1 happened to come
just now" cried Trenham, laying one
hand upon the chestnut, while he gave
Athol the other. "Athol, dear old fellow,
I've brought this as parting gift, lit
tie remembrance of me. It's a selfish
idea. after all, but want you to have
cause to think of me often. Your thoughts
are always good thoughts, Athol, and /
want a share in them. Try him now.
MOUNT end try hin nov. He carries
splendidy up to fifteen stone, and yts
don't ride that by very long way; and
he is the quietest fast runner l ever saw.
You always said you must have a quiet
animal. because of needing him so often
held for you. or leaving him at cottage
doors, or something. We're, dear fellow,
| think you will like him and it will be
such pleasure to me to picture you on
him ON your errands of good"
Athops eyes turned hurriedly from his
friends face. Something in its gladncss
struck him sadly. He stroked the beauti-
full chestnut horse with caressing touch,
but could not trust himself to speak of
the thoughtful and most useful gift.
do you like him? Do you admire
him, VereT' asked Rourke. with boyish
eagerness. "Tell me if you do, old fell
low. l so seldom have pleasure like
this"
Then AthoI told him what he thought
both of the gift and of the giver, but
the words were but broken and unsteady
ones. after all.
Thank you; thank you from my heart
Now mount and let me watch you out of
sight. Good-by, dear fellow, dear old
friend"
Watch him out of sight," Rourke
had said; but both horse and rider were
only a dim blur upon the road before
him; and Athol, looking back, saw The
leaning, watching figure at the gate,
through even a still more binding mist
Of tears.
Rourke Trehham was ushered at once
Into Mr.. Gaveston's presence when he
reached Rupert's Rest, and had not been
there many minutes before Una's father
had given hearty consent to his suit.
I'VE can settle all preliminaries when
you return, Trenham," he said, in a mat
ter-of-fact tone of business, though he
made an effort at an unusually genial
smile; 'but l suppose we must look upon
this as a regular engagement"
Rourke answered eagerly that for him
self it was a binding and lifelong engage
ment, and that during the two years of
his absence he should do his best to prove
himself deserving of Una, and of the con-
fdence her father had placed in him.
In his gratitude and his anxiety to go
to Una, he hardly knew what he said, but
1t seemed to content Mr.. Gayeston, and
their parting was prompt and satisfac-
tory enough. In the hall Rourke encoun-
tered Miss Sheford who was Una's COM
panion now instead of her governess, and
she stopped him to congratulate him and
to wish for him and her favorite every
possible happiness. The young man
thanked her in his glad courteous way,
then he passed on to Una's sitting room,
and found himself alone with her at
last.
One long look-glad in its affection.
sad in it's foreboding-into her innocent
eyes. One long kiss upon her shaking
lips One long embrace, and then Rourke
turned away with never a backward
glance: and Una, dreading to be alone
ht1r ioA 70
her old governess.
At Kumley Priory Trenham halted only
for @ few minutes. This was essentially
duty call, and one over which he had
no desire to lnger. Old Mr. Surle was
sitting by the fire in his gloomy brown
library. and he neither put down his pa
per nor raised his head from it when his
nephew entered.
"Good-byr' he repeated dryly, after
Rourke had explained the object of his
visit. whats the effect of saying that?
It's as senseless and useless a ceremony
ns was that ball at Hohve last night
Have you apologized to Newley YETI"
Rourke laughed. "Apologized OF
course" he answered. gazing curiously
at his uncle. as he stood opposite to him
on the rug.
"How?'
This second question was more sharp
and abrupt even than the first, and Dighy
raised his keen eyes from the paper for
moment.
This way" replied Trenham. leisure
ly II said l hoped l should not come
back until his presence no longer dark
ened my fathers house."
"Indeed!' observed Mr.. Surle, grimly
And how did he receive that most alb
:ect apology
VERY charmingly. He answered me,
with his usual frank amiability, that he
thought should"
"You are random, headstronk. sense
less fellow" blurted out the old man.
"and ell l can say is, you'd better stop
before you go too far. If you have
grain of sense left you, for goodness sake
exert il and curry favor with the man in
mower. There. don't interrupt me;
moan what l say. Your only way is to
90 straight to him now and make amends
for your speech last night. Be quiet;
don't believe he was the offender Not
he: a polite. polite. self-governed fellow
He would not burst out with an insult in
I
try to tell me II was his fault. Go to
him now and tell him you are sorry. Say
il whether you are or not Nobody cares
whether an apology is true or not. so that
Ii is spoken out"
at will never be spoken out in this
case" remarked Trenham ooolly.
Then take the consequences; you de-
serve them. Now what about Gaveston's
daughter? Are you going away burdened
with promises TO herr"
Il have told Mr.. Goveston." said
Rourke. unwilling to quarrel with the old
man in this last interview 'how dearly
love Una. and he has consented TO give
her TO me for my wife, SO on my re-
turn we shall be married.
BE married. Ell? Ah5 settle st Hohve,
suppose
why. where else should we be likely
to settle. Uncle Digby?"