



Produced by Al Haines.





                           *DIVIDING WATERS*


                                   BY

                            *I. A. R. WYLIE*

                               AUTHOR OF
                 "THE RAJAH'S PEOPLE," "MY GERMAN YEAR"



                             SECOND EDITION



                         MILLS & BOON, LIMITED
                            49 RUPERT STREET
                               LONDON, W.




                            _Published_ 1911

  _Copyright_ 1911 _in the United States of America by I. A. R. Wylie_




                               *CONTENTS*

                                 BOOK I

CHAP.

      I. The Mistakes of Providence
     II. "Wanderlust"
    III. An Experiment
     IV. Outward Bound
      V. Among the Heathen
     VI. A Letter Home
    VII. A Duet
   VIII. The Awakening
     IX. Renunciation
      X. Youth and the Barrier
     XI. Wolff makes his Debut in Delford
    XII. Nora Forsakes Her Country


                                BOOK II

      I. The New Home
     II. --And the New Life
    III. A Meeting
     IV. A Visitor Arrives in Karlsburg
      V. The Cub as Lion
     VI. In Which the Rev. John Receives a Shock
    VII. Wolff Sells a Horse and Nora Loses a Friend
   VIII. Rising Shadows
     IX. Arnold Receives His Explanation
      X. Nemesis
     XI. The Fetish
    XII. War-Clouds
   XIII. Ultimatum
    XIV. The Code of Honour
     XV. The Sea Between


                                BOOK III

                               THE BRIDGE

      I. Home
     II. Exiled
    III. Revelation
     IV. The Bridge Across




                           *DIVIDING WATERS*



                                *BOOK I*


                              *CHAPTER I*

                      *THE MISTAKES OF PROVIDENCE*


The family Ingestre sat in conclave.  That they sat together at all at
any time other than a meal-time was in itself sufficient proof that the
subject of their debate was unusually serious: their faces and attitudes
added conclusive evidence.

The Reverend John Ingestre occupied his chair of state at the head of
the long table.  He was a middle-sized man, with narrow, sloping
shoulders, which were at that particular moment drawn up into an
uncomfortable hunch.  When he spoke he pulled at his thin beard and
glanced at his wife surreptitiously over his spectacles, as though
seeking her advice or support--actions which gave his whole person an
air of harassed nervousness.

Mrs. Ingestre did not return her husband's signals. She lay quietly on
the sofa by the window, her hand half shading her face, and seemed
absorbed in her own thoughts.  Only once during the Rev. John's long and
detailed statement did she give any sign of having heard.  Then she
shifted her position so that her grave scrutiny rested on the two
younger members of the family.  Perhaps she hoped to learn from their
expressions what they were innerly experiencing, and therein no doubt
she must have been successful, for their positions alone were expressive
of much.

The boy--or young man, for he was at that uncertain age when boyhood and
manhood meet--had his hands plunged in his pockets; his long legs were
stretched out in front of him, his chin rested on his chest.  Supreme
and energiless despondency seemed to be imprinted in the very creases of
his Norfolk coat.

The girl had her place at the table.  Though she sat perfectly still,
never turning her eyes from her father's face, there was something in
her rigid attitude which suggested irritation and impatience.  Her hands
lay in her lap; only a close observer would have seen that they were not
folded, but clenched, so that the knuckles stood out white.

"So you see, my dear children," the Rev. John said at last, coming to
his peroration, "I felt it my duty to lay the case before you exactly as
it stands. For a long time I hoped that it would not be necessary for me
to do so--that a merciful Providence would spare me the pain of
inflicting upon you so sharp a wound.  Well, it has been ruled
otherwise, and I only pray that you share with me my one
consolation--the knowledge that it is the will of a Higher Power, and
therefore all for the best."

He stopped and waited.  In spite of the catastrophe which he had just
announced, there was a trace of meek satisfaction in his manner, of
which he seemed gradually to become conscious, for he turned to his wife
with a note of apology in his thin voice:

"My dear, I have explained the matter correctly, I hope?"

"Quite correctly, I should think."

Mrs. Ingestre's hand sank from her face.  It was a finely shaped hand,
and whiter, if possible, than the dress she wore.  Everything about her
was beautiful and fragile--painfully fragile. 