The Wingham Times, 1905-08-03, Page 7THE WINGIIAI TIMES AUGUST 2, 1905
A Wicked Girl.
[11
• 11,I0•000•40 a '
1+c1
BY MARY CECIL HAY, LJ
if Author of "Righted At Last," "Carried Away," 1°1
• " Back to the Old Home," Etc., Etc.
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Etasesigeseala.e....**....X.assagassaytel
' P'There's nobody even took to be
tried for it. The crowner gave what
tine called open verdict."
"But surely some one is suspect-
ed?"
' "Not a soul, I assure you. There
Isn't anybody the police can take up
for it."
"It would be a satisfaction to the
police to take somebody up?" sug-
gested the girl, absently, while she
sweetened her tea.
"Yes, madame, it would be a great
• Comfort to thein."
"Naturally. Tell me about it."
the papers they say—"
"Oh, I know what i,he papers
.say," she answered, leaning back,
and seeming to forget the tea she
had prepared. "You telt me in your
own way."
"For myself I thought the gapers
very satisfactory and correct," the
Finan observed rather pointedly as he
whisked a crumb off the table -cloth,
"and there Were columns of it,
whereas if you tell it, .it is all over
fila a few words. Mr. Basset was
writing alone in his library that
evening—just a week to -day it ai.'as
—and there he was found sitting
dead, with one of his own foreign
• daggers in his heart. People say it
wasn't right for it to lie on his
table to be used as a paper knife." •
"Some thief can in, I suppose.
The windows are low, perhaps."
"They are, both of them, and
there's a door out into the park, but
all were shut."
"But could . be opened from • out-
side, no doubt?"
"Yes. madame. Neither was fast-
ened on the inside that evening,
strange to say. But nothing was
stolen."
"You mean nothing they are yet
award of. Who else was in the
Tower that evening?"
"Only the old lady—the Widow of.
Mr. Miles's grandfather—and his sis-
ter.".
"Except servants," added the girl,
unconsciously dropping the levelness
of tone.
"Except servants, of course," the
man allowed; "but they are old serv-
ants and above suspicion. Besides,
it is said their presence is accounted
'for all evening. They don't keep
',many at the Tower at any time.
It is very sad" — with a bland
sympathy—"for Mr. Basset was en-
gaged to be married next month. We
all feel for poor Miss 'Ope—"
"Yes, I know he was," the girl
quietly interrupted.
"We all," persisted the man, chaf-
ing under a Sense of injury because
no Iady (especially a young ono) had
any right to shiver sitting so near a
fire of his compiling, "feel for the
young lady at the Pines."
"1 ant going to the Pines,"
The words were so grave as to
sound like a rebuke, and were fol-
lowed by such a meaning glance into
the hall that the man could not but
take the hint.
When he returned, in ten minutes'
time, it was to say the fly was at
the door, and to find the visitor so
lost in thought, that he had to re-
mind her of !laving ordered a vehicle
at all.
"No," the girl said, hurriedly,
when she saw her box being hoisted
to the roof of the Ily. "I must leave
that until I send for it—or return."
Then haeing satisfied the man with
silver, in her composed accustomed
way, she took her seat and was
driven out of the sleepy little town
. of Thawton.
After enjoying about three miles
of roar} which rambled, with no di-
'rectness of purpose, over the margin
of flat country lying between the
downs and sea, they passed through
the little village of Dowsing '(at
whose station this express train had
• not stopped), and instead of driving
northward up the gradual ascent to
the tower, they went straight on for
_another mile, and then turned
abruptly southward, until even on
the girl's unlistening ears there fell
the sound of the sea washing its
long stretch of pebbly shore. Break-
ing a long wall on one side this
road, cane a little round lodge, like
a swollen and moldy toy, and at-
tached to it ayellow gate. Before
this the driver reined in his horse,
:Pains in Small
of the. Back
Se severe she could sostrcely
rise atter stooping—The
cause, kidney disbasi.
Thousands of women make the mistake of
attributing their suffering to derangement of
tho peculiarly feminine system, when the cause
of trouble is diseMe. of .the kidneys.. To all
such the 'ut , of Dr. Chimera Kidney -Liver Pills
Will promptly relieve and thoroughly cure.
Mu..: Wyfittrs&,Henry Si., 1301evo11e,
but
'.,ri'tes•:' I suffered.
e great deal witk pain*
in the small of the back,
caused'fromki:drie7 aria-•
Ole. {viteneter I stooped
Y could .bitterly rise
again, the pains were so
Caeat. The dsease be-,
me do ekvete Ithat it ef-
fected my general health,
aid I was bewming run.
down. Since using Dr.
•Chase'll .ICidtt+k .Liver
I4**,HU',t roy
WILEtlII trouble has entire dim -
Pills
appeared. 1 can speak in the highest terms of
this medicine from the way it aotedin rayon." ..
r. Chase's Ride gyi irer Pi11e, one ill a,
1 dear
to.
afine ti tl I5f, @h. Portrait
efDr. A. W• gluee, the fampue receipt book
author, are eathiry
with a hoot intended to arouse the
lodge -keeper, but which only startled
the girl sitting behind him. Ile re-
peated it vainly again and again,
yet all the time there was awoman
sitting calmly looking rut upon him
from one of the round windows of
the lodge.
When presently the girl caught
sight of this woman's face, she at
once told the driver she would walk
the rest of the way, and dismissed
him. She paid him in excess, in the
old take -it -for -granted way, then
opened the gate for herself, and
walked up the yard of graden path
to the door of the toy lodge, enter-
ing without any preliminary knock.
"I saw you, Sarah," she said, to
the woman who stood at her en-
trance, but gave her no smile in
greeting. "Surely you have not be -
collie 'Mrs. Martin's lodge -keeper?"
"No, Miss Derry, I thought old Nat
was out there ready to open the
gate. DId Miss Ella send for you?
She told me she had begged you not
to come."
"So she did, and I tried to do as
she wished, but it was impossible.
How could I know her to be in
trouble and stay away? I tried for
a whole week, but I had to give up
at last and come. Something must
be done, Sarah. This awful murder
must be found out."
"It's a week since," the woman ob-
served, with no change in her intent
unsmiling gaze.
"Yes, a, whole week"—sadly. "As
Ella begged me not to come, I
thought • I -ought not—at first, . but,
as I say something must be done,
and isn't it natural Elia's sister
should try to cio it?"
"Yes, it's natural," the woman
agreed, the slow level tones striking .
dully on the ear after the girl's
clear, heart -stirred voice, "but it will
be of no use. Everything has beeu
tried. The kindness to Miss Ella
would be to teach her to forget it."
'Then I will try to teach her to
forget it. But I must also try—"
"Miss Derry," the woman's inter-
ruption was quick enough though
heavily uttered—"you will remem-
ber she is not strong like you, and
you will spare her any unnecessary
harass?"
"Who should spare her if not I?"
the girl asked, with simple, • frank
astonishment.
"You will remember how lately
she has had such an awful shock?"
"You Would not think me likely to
forget it if you knew how terrible
this week has been to me while she
kept me frons her."
"But you understand why, Miss
Derry? She knew Mrs. Martin
would make it disagreeable for you.
Miss Ella thinks of you more than of
herself. Did you expect to stay at
the Pines.?"
"If Ella asks me."
"But she tvan't be allowed to. No,
I'm sure she won't, so I must see
about something, while you speak
with Miss Elia. Will you cone up
to the house with me, and I will
take you straight to her room?"
"As you like," said the girl, her Hp
curling more in amusement than con-
tempt, as she turned out of the op-
pressive little room, the woman fol-
lbwing her in silence.
"Sarah," she said, suddenly, when
she had waited for her companion to
come up to her in the short straight
avenue of stunted elms, "I wonder
Mrs. Martin lets Ella keep you with
her, as you are fond of Ella, and
Mr. Martin is so intolerably jeal-
ous."
"But she doesn't know I'm fond of
Miss Ella," the woman said, with
the ,first sign of a smile. "I pretend
to bo devoted only to her, and so
I'm allowed to stay. I know well
it's the only way."
"We were both your nurslings
once," said the girl, With an uncon-
scious pathos in her clear, musical
voice, "but you were never fond of
me as you are of Ella."
"No, Miss Derry—if fond Is the
word - ' I had no need to be."
"1 never,' the girl said, cheerfully
strangling a sigh, "was quite the
mistress of my temper, was I, Sarah?
They say red-haired people never
are."
"Bed -haired!" The woman's voice
was filled with astonishment, yet
neither raised nor quickened. "Who
ever said you had red hair?"
"All my best friends."
"Oh!"
That was all she said, and her eyes
were utterly expressionlesswhen she
turned them on the girlish figure at
her side, yet even she must have look-
ed with pure delight on the glorious
coloring which would have filled an
artist soul with rapture.
"Miss Derry, please don't ring,"
Sarah said, hurrying forward to open
the door when they reached the
square white house., "Would you
mind following me upstairs?"
"You *ill renternber" (she had
paused to whisP z in • att open door-
way)' that Miss. !Ella is not strong,
and has 'liad 'irteli a shock?"
E11t1.'s sister only Smiled her an-
stv.er ,ai skt passed into the room,
find Shrill Ealen had no,t, the under=
standing to read in that smile,: a
promise, strong as death.
• PART It
. CHAPTER if
Derry'sentrance, d, petty,
delicate -looking girl, Of above -twen-
ty, who lay ow a couch besides the
fires looked up from a book, theh'
Orin* ! ter her .heti
"Derry? You!"
"Me. NO Che else, zfl Sakkpb.°' 1!e,s'
Sick Headache, Biliousness, Dys-
pepsia, Coated Tongue, Foul Breath,
Heart Burn, Water Brash, or any
Disease of the Stomach, Liver or Bowels.
Laxa-Liver Pills are purely vegetable:
neithergripe, weaken nor sicken, aro easy
t• takeand prompt to act.
the merry answer, though the speak-
er's voice was stirred by some strong
emotion. "Kiss ate. Now again •—
again. Yes, again, It is such ages
since I saw you. Lock your arms
round my neck, my deur, just ns you
used to do in old times — those
very, very old times before rich mutts
stole you away frozn me."
The younger sister — for Ella was
the younger by almost two years --
answered only by a grove sweet
smile; but, after a pause, moved her
head back to gaze into her sister's
face.
"What brought you, Derry?"
"Tell Inc first that you care to see
me..,
' "I do. Oh, yes, I do indeed, but
you know I ant not mistress here."
"No, I am glad to say you are
not," returned Derry, stoutly, "Of
course I came to see you, but an-
other„rnaltive brought me too, Ella.
I'm afraid you may not like to hear
it spoken of—yet.”
"Why did 'you conte?" gently and
sadly asked Ella again.
"When I read that sorrowful letter
of yours, I felt I ought to be with
you, dear, though ao you told me not
to come, I submitted. Dut after
thinking, thinking,
six whole
days, I knew I must conte even it
only for that other purpose. Ella,
that mystery must be solved."
"Will you please not speak of it?"
urged the younger girl, gently.
Not speak of it! Must not I? Oh,
Ella, just this once, if never again!
You must forgive me. I can not ho
patient and resigned and gentle like
you. I feel hot and mad against the
lean who did thio awful murder. It
seems to me cold of you—I mean"
(with a caressing touch) "it is too
submissive, too forgiving of you —
of any one, Ella. 'Tell me — just
one or two things. Did you not
know of any quarrel he had had —
even an old one, long, ago?"
"No, none," with a slow shake of
the head. "Miles was not quarrel-
some."
"O1
Ofl
course not, dear. I never
meant ft. 33ut you must, not be Coo
urisuapicious — just yet. Some one
might have resented something he
had done which was in itself harm-
less' — even noble perhaps. 'Think
it over — presently," as Ella gently
shook her head again. "Is there any
one who was jealous of him? You
understand me, dear? Jealous of
his being loved so well by pretty
Ella Hope?"
"No," Ella answered simply-, as she
suet her sister's beautiful question-
ing eyes. "Miles was not jealous. I
know he was never jealous. Never!"
"And he was not robbed?"
"No."
"Is it true that a five -guinea piece
hung at his watch -chain, close to
}where the—dagger was?"
"I do not know."
"But you have heard it?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then they think it was no thief?"
Diarrhoea, Dysentery,
Stomach Cramps
and all
Summer Complaints
take
"They fieein quite sure."
".And, Ella, forgive me fpr asking
one thing more, Does no one think
it possibly it might have been—him-
golf? Oh, my dear" (with a hasty
caress, as the soft brown oyes fill
with tears), "what a wretch I must
be to have uttered such an Idea to
you! Even to have surmised it
possible for one you love. Can you
forgive me?"
"Derry--." it was not till a minute
or two afterward , that her sister
broke the rather painful pause --- "I
am afraid that you forgot it would
be impossible to stay here. Aunt is
always telling me she will never for-
give you. Did you fancy--"
"Oh, I fancy lots of absurdities,"
said Derry, her voice wavering a lit-
tle timidly, though her eyes were
brave and defiant, "I even fancy I
have more to forgive Mrs, Samuel
Martin than she has to forgive me.
But now I conte to think of it, I'm
lost in wonder how I could even mo-
mentarily have dreamed of staying .
in her house. Never mind, I'll go
back to mine inn. I am only sorry
I dismissed my luxurious 'post -
shay,' but perhaps Sarah Eales will
shots the the way. Here she comes."
But Ella know the rustling step
better, and grew perceptibly ner-
vous as there entered a middle-aged
lady, handsomely attired, and with
a handsome face, though its expres-
sion was hard even to cruelty.
"Ella, my love," she began, and
then stopped short, and looked at
Derry, slowly scanning her from head
to foot — a scrutiny the girl bore
with cool indifference, after one
anxious glance to see whether it
pained her sister — "Ella," break-
ing the pause at last, "who is
that?"
"It is Derry," began Ella, almost
whispering in her timidity.
"Pray, my dear," said Mrs. Mar-
tin, "spare me such an imbecile nick-
name. If you mean your sister, of
course it ought not to astonish me
to see her anywhere, as she was al-
ways an odd young woman, wander-
ing about alone; but still to come
here, uninvited—"
"Derry is not my nickname, Mrs.
Martin," observed the elder girl, in
rather a kind and condescending sort
of way, as with profound interest
she studied the face, so ably pow-
dered. and . so skillfully, tinged with
rouge. "No one is to blame when
memory fails, but, if you will try,
you May recollect that I was bap-
tized by that name because I was
born in Londonderry, and my Irish
father had little whiles, like — an
English aunt. For myself," speak-
ing in a bright friendly way, "I like
it wen better than the Samuclla you
made dad bestow on my sister a
year afterward! Dear old dad! his
'only compensation was to hear me
tone it down to Sanibo."
"Oh, hush, Derry," whispered El-
la, pleadingly, and Det•ry put an arum
around her as if to console her for
something unmentioned between
them.
"Ella, my love," inquired Mrs.
Martin, "can you kindly inform me
what brings your sister? It would
be difficult to imagine her taste har-
monizing with yours and mine, or
the quiet life of the country possess-
ing any ' charm for her, so I am
curious to know what has attracted
her to this neighborhood."
"I will answer for myself, Ella.
Don't you be troubled, dear," said
Derry, seating herself and leaning
back in a low chair. "I've taken it
fancy to the country, Mrs. Martin.
Is there any objection to my follow-
ing my fancy?"
"I ani glad" /with cutting empha-
sis), "that you are rich enough to
follow a fancy now, instead of a
trade."
"Are you really?" cried Derry, with
warns geniality. "I was afraid you
were not so deeply interested in dad
and ate. This knowledge would have
given us unmixed rupture while the
followed our trade, and I will try
to appreciate it now I only follow
a fancy."
"Ella, my love, if your sister's and
father's circumstances are really im-
proved, I would express satisfaction.
as it will save you any worry in
that quarter; but if this is only her
vaporous nonsense, and she has cone
here with any idea of my—"
"No," said Derry, placidly shaking
her head, "I have come without any
idea. I have come to spend my
wealth in this neighborhood, Mrs.
Martin, es it seems to offer fine at-
tractions for a spendthrift."
She paused and sat quietly at ease,
es if she had said all that could be
desired, but the lady of the house
had been taken by surprise, and for
it few moments hesitated involuntar-
ily. Then she smiled across at Ella
before turning to leave the room.
"My love," she said, with a grac-
ious little wave of her hand, "as
soon as your sister has left yon will
join ale, and I wish you would not
keep ma svaiting."
"I will not, aunt," she answered
readily; but a forlorn expression
! crept ovn• the pretty face when the
door was closed upon the two girls.
"Oh, Derr; ," she sighed, "why don't
you try to propitiate her?"
"Because --never mind," said Derry
bravely withholdlug what she had
been tempted to say. "I can't help
it. My sympathies are all with ---
the late Samuel."
"What did you mean, Derry, real-
IY, about your wealth?"
"This, dear. She hurried me into
telling it in a way I did not mean.
Ueele Joseph has sent Inc from Aus-
traits, to whole theusand pounds, and
! offers to make me his heiress, if—as
he puts it. -I will leave off sculping."
"Oh, What a good thing 'lei' yeti.",
"Is' it?" the elder girl asked dream-
ily, as she sat gazing into the fire.
'^rhe dear old dad says so'too, but
like that soldier in the song, 1M
'wipes away a tear.' „
"He never yet has been well ted,
you know, Derry."
"Well off!" Tho voice wad stirred
is; its action and does not leave the bowels pathetically, and the beautiful eyes
i shone like stars fora Monica; then
lcenetillatcdi Rttstlsi<r ALL SungristlTirs: the glow faded. "You forget it ell,
TH:Y'llti IlAfittTltbV;» ! of Coarse, Ella, as you left it so
Mas. geoesott Lost, Aylmer, Qat:, writes, "I .soon,'• she Said, br%hgiflg >i gaze
from, the fire to her sister's lace, strif:
hate used Dr. Fowler's !;:inset of wile Strawberry speaking it a. lots lnuafnq tone. You
forreardweafeybo boost erase past era 1 line it le can not understand 'whiff iII is .OU
the oily ileikine Which brie& true' is MtAore a• 1~at and MO. 'Pee love the ljtgtutittsl
HOWL eSperiment With neo . and
untried remedies, but procure that
which hills, stoked ,the telt of time.
Dr. Fowler's bas stood the tett for 6o
years, and has never1ail*ed to give satis-
faction. It is rapid, reliable and effectual
.. -.+ labor. I wonder whether a, thott-
sand pounds could ever iseem to ale
11
7
worth so much as one of hie wor'tI
of praise when I have worked not
unworthily. We love the freedom,
*he busy day -tune, and the IMPPY
evenings, when he talus to me of
hooka and art, or takes inc where he
thinks he can teach me even more.
C)h, those delicious hours in the art.
galleries! Or other evenings when -
busy friends can be idle too, and we
have music or reading from a book •
we would discuss, or when we rush
off in unpremeditated joy to a con-
cert or a theater."
"And you still call our father Pat,
Derry! You seem to bo invited out
sometimes," added Ella, with a kind
attempt at seeing a good side to
everything.
"Yes, and I'm vain enough to like
that too. To like wearing a pretty
frock and looking at other women's,
and noticing how differently men talk
in dress -coats or velveteens. Oh,
;'es, I enjoy it all." 'rhe whimsical
glance was directed straight into the
fire, and Ella guessed nothing of how
the society of the clever sculptor,
and that of his beautiful daughter •
who inherited his talent, were al-
most humbly sued for by many whose •
aristocratic mimes the rich Mrs.
Martin would have given her right
hand to have upon her,visiting-list.
"Of course I was a poor judge. i
being only thirteen when I left you," i
resumed Ella, "but I seem to remem-
ber we were always poor. Aunt
Crystal says father always will be.
That he is not contented with hav-
ing to work hard for his money, but
when he gets it he lends it."
"It is his privilege," said Derry,
sedately. "He has a few very genial
friends who give him opportunities
of lending what they usually speak
of as if it were a bore to have. it.
There's one young man who comes a
great deal to the studio and owes
l'at nearly two hundred pounds, and
he calmly informed me yesterday that
if he ever needed to borrow money
he knew he should never ask e. nli,n
who had to work for it! I will
do him the justice to believe he
thought he never had."
"Oh, Derry, what a shame! Did
father hear?"
"No, several of us had just seen
dad himself off to Paris. He has to
sculp Sara, and he is to do sonic bus-
iness for Uncle Joseph on the sante
visit, so I shall be able to stay here
all that time,"
"But you will be so dull, Derry,
and lonely too! It is horrid of aunt
not to let you stay here, especially
now we are not going out, and I am
so miserable. Aunt herself is cross,
too, because she hates to be without
change and visiting, and she is wor-
rying so about who I ala to marry,
now that Miles—"
"Where's Miles then?"
The shock of this sharp sudden
question, made Derry's cheeks as
white as the beautiful low forehead
over which the hair was drawn back
in wavy richness. El1a's face dim-
pled into a smile, while her eyes
were lifted to a gilt bracket, on
which there stood, peering down, a
fine gray parrot.
"George has been silent a long
time to -day," she said. "lie always
seems depressed if any stranger is
here, else he talks of almost every-
body; picks up everything. Sometimes
his keenness 'startles me almost as
much as he startled you, Derry, but
not very often, I feel very angry with
him, for if I snake an effort to be
cheerful with .him, he invariably
grows melancholy and silent."
"Where's Miles then?"
"Yes," resumed E11a, smiling
again, "that is the question he gen-
erally asks now."
"How wretched for you," said her
sister, kissing her pitifully as they
stood. "I fear it is the cry he has
often heard from your lips, dear,
lately. Oh, Ella, it must be one
of the greatest sorrows possible to
lose—even without its being in that
sudden and terrible manner — one's
lover." '
"So you can imagine it," asked
Ella, softly, "though you have so
often said you could not fall in
love?"
"I can feel for you, dear, dust the
same—perhaps more, being one of
those women Do Quincy speaks of,
to whom a real female friendship can
not be supplied by companionship of
the other sex. Now, I must go, or
darkness will fall upon me in a
strange land. May Sarah walk with
ane?"
The woman entered so exactly at
that molnent that Derry caught her-
self uncomfortably regarding her,
but after meeting the gaze with
straightforwtird gravity, Sarah smil-
ed tenderly into her young mis-
tress' questioning eyes.
"I've got lodgings at Harrack's,
Miss Ella," she said, with a quite
perceptible anxiety in her even tones.
"I thought I should, and I went
there first. Mrs. Frayd has sent ale;
back in her little cart with her man
driving, and he's waiting to driv.t
Miss Hope back."
"He must take me first to the
Railway Inn for my luggage," said
Derry, as she kissed her sister, and
pretended not to be hastening her
departure for that sister's sake.
"Now don't harass yourself about
me, Ella. I shall be perfectly happy.
I shall -- I shall. I don't quite
know yet what I shall do: probably
meditate over my thousand pounds."
"I dare say you shared it with
father?"
"We tossed up for each. hundred."
"Oh, Derry!"
"Don't look shocked, dear. for we
really did. But I won quite enough
to meditate upon."
"X guests you will write a letter for
father'' amusement," said Ella, try-
ing to be cheerful. "Give him my
love, and tell him I have not spirits
to write. I will be sure to drive
over to see you to -morrow." .
"Where's Miles then?"
The shrill, Weird cry hurried Derry
away, with a look in her eyes Sad-
der than tears; yet si rs• to uttered sever-
al little polite commonplaces to Sar-
ah,. Who conducted her down into the
nevi* shadowy avenue where the little
yellow village cart waited.
"Miss Ella," Sarah said on her ter
turn,. for Ella. had nervouelY waited
to hear of het sister's departure be-
fore joining her :hunt,. "It was very
kind of Diss Derry to eflno on pur-
pose th comfort you, toad r prey she
The Kind You Have Always Bought, and which has been
in use for over 30 years, has borne the signature or
, and has been made under his per.
sonal supervision since its infancy.
Allow no one to deceive you in this.
All Counterfeits, Imitations and "Just -as -good" are but
Experiments that trifle with and endanger the health or
Infants :and Children—Experience against Experiment.
What is CASTORiA
Castoria is a harmless substitute for Castor Oil, Pare.
goric, Drops and Soothing Syrups. It is Pleasant. It
contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic
substance. Its ago is its guarantee. It destroys Worm*
and allays Feverishness. It cures Diarrhoea and Wind
Colic. It relieves Teething Troubles, cures Constipation
and Flatulency. It assimilates the Food, regulates the
Stomach and Bowels, giving stealthy and natural sleep.
Tho Children's Panacea—The Mother's Friend.
CENU1fiE CAS`T'ORIA ALWAYS
Bears the Signature of
The Kind You llao Always Bought
In Use For Over 30 Years.
INC CCNTAUR COMPANY, TT MURRAY STRCCT. NCW YORK CITY.
may discover the man who went ;n
to Mr. Miles's that night. Of course.
it is not likely, as the police fail;
but we'll do all we can. IIe had
some enemy of course, and it is just
possible Miss Derry ntay find out who
he was."
"Yes," Ella assented, in a sorrow-
ful, wearied tone, and then joined
her aunt.
"It was an eccentricty of that
girl's to come all in black and yet
not in mourning," Mrs. Martin be-
gan, as if the thought had been rank-
ling all through her solitude. "Ella,
my love, be with her as little as you
need, for she—" Mrs. Martin paus-
ed abruptly, She had been going to
say "throws you completely into the
shade," but she changed it compla-
cently into "she and I are utterly an-
tipatica."
Yes," said Ella, submissively, as
she sat down to pour out the tea.
CHAPTER II.
Derry Hope sat in the yellow vil-
lage cart at the door of the Railway
Inn, wondering what the immediate
future held for her, while she dream-
ily watched the wizen little old man
who had driven her go into the inn
for her box. She saw the fiat -faced
waiter accompany him out, with a
skillful effect as if assisting, but for
a wonder she failed to notice his hun-
gry expression of countenance, and
no shilling was forthcoming. While
the little cart stood there, a train
came sauntering into the station,
and seeing it the old man had the
appearance of being struck with an
idea.
"Would you be nervous, miss, to
'old the 'orse a minute'?" he asked
Derry, who absently confessed her-
self equal to that daring deed.
Idly she sat until his little bent
form was swallowed by the station,
then she made up her mind through
.
1
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GERMS absolutely destroyed .
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natural deductions that; for an uiar-
limited period she must possess her
soul in patience. So that when with-
in reasonable time the little man re-
appeared at the pony's head, it took
her so by sure' ise that she paid scant,
attention to the fact that the rein
were taken out of her hands with 'a
stiff conventional speech, which at
another time would have made her
smile, and that she was being whihi-
ed away, not from Thawton only.
but from the cautious little old mars
who had driven her thither.
She looked round once or twice at
the tall, heavy figure beside her.
even taking cognizance of a strong
silent profile; and each time with an
added sense of injury, for she was
not accustomed to men who were not.
entertaining, and she had no. idea,
(To be continued.)
i
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r•
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