A FATAL DOSE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVII, Issue 258, 5 November 1906, Page 6

A FATAL DOSE.

CHAPTER IV.

! By FRED M. WHITE, ! Author of "The Corner House," "Craven Fortune," etc.

CHAPTER 111. THE ASPARAGUS FERX. The last guest had been -ushered out by the inscrutable butler, a sense of peace and quietness fell upon the flat, and Eleanor stood before the fire, with one slim, white, satin foot upon the fender She had her own reasons why she did not want Monkwell to see her face for the moment. The door had been closed by the butler; seated hv the table, amongst the artistic litter ot fruit and wine and flowers, was Monkwell. calmly smoking- a cigarette. lie had steadfastly refused -anything in the way of champagne, nor had he ventured to smoke till this moment. Eleanor turned upon him now with a world of scorn in her dark eve?.

'Really, Mr. Monkwell. we are getting on,' , she said. "I know that, for some time past, the barriers of Society have been breaking down, and that men and womei. nowadays find themselves in a class of society to which they are not accustomed."'

"That is precisely so." Monkwell said in bis boyish way. "At the present moment 1 see before mc a most charming exr.tr.ple of the type of individual you refer to." Kieanor quivered with a passion she could hardly restrain. There were few people she was afraid of, few men from whom she would have shrunk, and Monkwell was one of them. She feared this man. she feared his peculiar air of innocence, she felt that he wax an enigma Jo her. His words had been quiet enough, hut. she uiider.-i ood them absolutely and perfectly. She came a step nearer the table herself, and proceeded to light a cigarette in her turn.

" I have not much time," she said, "because I have important business elsewhen. Still. I should like yon to explain that remark of yours, even less dense people than myself might have regarded it a? a piece of gross impertinence."

chance of their presence being discovered. A day or two later, the lady goes to Stephanie and Co., and asks them to supply her with asparagus fern like one that she has seen in Monkwell's shop. They do not like to say they haven't got them but profess that they wiU send her one in a. day or two. The thing is quite easily managed: under pretence of changing my 'stock this unique specimen finds it 3 way into Courtville Gardens, and the diamonds arc safely removed from their hiding-place. Now. Mrs Marsh, do you understand what I mean, or must I speak still more plainly? Of course, you can defy mc if you like, or you eaji take the wiser course, and give mc an opportunity of getting my money. I don't- want to be too hard upon you, and I will give you just three days to iirirl the cash. If I don't receive it by that time, 1 will issue a warrant- for your arrest, as sure as you are a living woman. Those are the conditions—a thousand pounds within three days, or you become acquainted with the inside of a gaol."

Eleanor Marsh attempted no defence; she was far too clever a woman for that. So far as Monkwell could see, she did not turn so much as a bair. Th?re was a hard smile on her face.

'■Very well." she said: 'T think I can see my way to manage it by thit lime. Almost at once I am going into tho country to stay with the Duchess of Baventry. I had better give you ber address, so that you can communicate with mc if necessary. Have you git. ;:

visiting card in your pocket, or a piece of paper?"

.Monkwcll searched his pockets and produced a telegram. He tore off a corner and pencilled the address down upon it, thVn he left the room, leaving the grey flimsy behind him. In a mechanical kind of way Eleanor took up the telegram ajid read it. A quick cry came from her lips: she rang the bell for the butler.

"A marvellous trick of fortune." she cried. "Robert .lasper Cleave will be in Englajid to-morrow. You must find him without fail. To think that this should fall into my hands'."

"Not at all. not at all." Monkwcll said. "I meant every word of it. Ah. you are a clener and audacious woman, and some day you may la.nd in a very high position indeed, hut 1 know what I know, and I keep my information to niyfclf. unless you challenge mc as you did just now. Then, perhaps, you

compel mc to t«»ll you a little story, 'frilly, it reads like a romance. Here is :i girl, brought up in the heart of the country: she lives in the open air; her food is the ha.rd food of the people. But all this ia the making of her. because it builds up that magnificent health and strength of nerve which is so fine a weapon in the world's fight to-day. The girl is ambitions: she knows that she is goinc; to be beautiful; she eagerly devouTs all the class of fiction that comes in her way hearing upon the lives of the greal . Then she leaves the village. She graduates through a Wpst Knrl cigar shop, and finally she finds herself the mistress of a. few thousand pounds. Xceil 1 ca.rry the story any further? Slip makes up her mind to finish at the top of (he tree, and at. the present moment she is within an a*e. of doing ?o. But this is a. dangerous game, and an expensive one. There comes a moment even when success is within her gra.sp, when she has ihe most pressing neeil of money. She falls back upon the old expedient of trying to obtain possession of vn'tuables and then disposing of them. 'Die tradesmen are shy: the lp.dy has not quite as yet established herself upon a sufficiently high ha-sis to gull my colleagues in Regent and Bond street. But still, -there is ajiother way left, which is just as useful, and far less dangerous, because it implies no monetary liability in the future. V>'e will say ■the lady in question comes to my establishment, and looks at a lot of valuable, dia-montls. She does not ask for credit, she doe.s not purchase anything: but just as she is going away, goods to the value of over a thousand pound? are missing. There nre other people in the. shop, so that it is impossible to say definitely who has taken the perns. The lady 1 have in my mind smilingly submits" to be. sea.re.hed if necessary, and the more thoroughly the operation is carried out. the mora »leased she seems to be. Of course, we have to make the most profuse, apologies, which we do. but we are not satisfied. We shall never be satisfied, though we have our own ideas which are not likely to be altered. 1 have my loss, and 1 had made up my mind to write the debt off as a bad one when I cuno here on business to see you this evening."

FOR HIS SAKE. In a very tbougutiul frame of mind. Philip ilrovr along with the idea of finding , Lena and taking her to Lexington House. He was a little disposed to be annoyed with himself, because he thought ihat in a way he had played the coward in nol telling Eleanor Marsh that his engagement to Lena was an accomplished fact. He might further bave gone on to say tbat they also were going down to stay with the Duchess of Davcntry, and that the engagement would be formally announced there. In deed. Philip had gone further than that. for he wns faking his mother's family jewels with him. so that L-ena might Fee them and rnnke up her mind as to whe*her or not she approved of the setting. If wns. perhaps, a. small matter, but on the whole, i! would have been far more loyal nnd straightforward to have told Kieanor Marsh this. And yet. all the time. Philip could not. rid himself (if the idea that Eleanor was the wife for him.

At any rate he put her out of his mind now, resolved to think no more about her. Lena welcomed him shyly. She was glad to have her lover back again: she had striven not to feel in the least jealous of Kieanor .Marsh.

"So you have come for mc," she said shyly. "Really, 1 began to feel quite anxious about you. I am so sorry that we have no opportunity as yet to discuss one or two little things that trouble mc. Do you know, I soiiietimes feel afraid of the future. I doubt if, after all. you have made a wise selection. Philip. I am so shy of Society and its many strange ways."

I'lilip laughed. He could understand quite clearly what was passing in the, girl's mind.

"You will get used to that in time,"' he said. Xot once during this time had he shown the slightest disposition towards endearment : indeed, Tvena could have counted the times that her lover had kissed her since their engagement.

"You want someone more stately." she said —"someone more commanding. I user! to think at one time that Eleanor Marsh Mould have suited you better than myself."

Hardy shrugged his shoulders indif ferently. He felt a little mean, too.

""Yes, ,- lie said. "An exceedingly brilliant woman—clever and all that sort of thing—but. at the samp time. T can never get it out of my mind that there was something of the adventuress about her. l"or instance, she never speaks of her people except somr vague references to relations in Virginia, and I am quite crrtain that the money she makes by her journalism is not sufficiently larjre to maintain that luxurious Hat in Courtville Square. By the way. 1 saw that she was in the House to-night, with Laflv Lorrimer."

"It was a very foolish time to come," Eleanor said coolly. Slowly, as she, spoke, and self-contained as she appeared t* be. a brilliant red spot burnt on either cheek. "Purely you could have done better than force yourself upon us this evening. -.

"That is as it may be. , ' Monkwell went on. "I have been finding out tilings and putting two and two together. As I sat here loniglit. I was pleased to find that my little experiments had not altogether hcen in vain. Is it not a fact that your florists are Stephanie and Co., of Burlington Oardens?"

They stood there for some little time longer, discussing the future—always his future, by the way—until Hardy noticed a little impatience pass over (lie face of his companion.

"Why, y.es," Eleanor exi-liumed in some surprise. "Pint what on earth can that have to do with the question under discussion?"

'"I am sure, 1 beg your pardon." he said contritely. ''Yon are ready. Had we not better get on as far as ton ITousp?' ,

"I was just coming to tliat.." Monkwell wont on. '"Yon sec. I nhvny. prided myself uj>on the palms anil ferns which 1 keep in my establishment. \ have ,i contract with Stephanie :ind Co. to look afier the plants and change thc:n when necessary. They :tre. apt to dpt»rioraf<! in quality in the atmosphere of a business cstab'::-'-iment. Some time ago Stephanie ana C-. sent mc a fresh consignment of palms, amongst wTiMi was quite a new specimen of an nsparagus fern. It, was so graceful that I sent, round to Stephanie lor soni" more. They sent mc back word to say that thnv had supplied mc with the only on? they possessed, and that, the specimen in question was absolutely unique. 'In fact, it is precisely the same plant t.haf you have, in the centre of your supper table at the present moment. :, "Tbe same?" Eleanor faltered., "I —I dont understand " "Oh. I am coming to the point quickly enough row. I know it is the same plant; in fact, I recognised ifc by that broken little branch at the top. As soon as I sat down here this evening I caw through the whole thing in a flash. The lady I speak of came to my establishment; she took up the missing diamonds and thrust them amongst the earth in the palm. They would be perr fectlj- $afe with, not tie slightest

They drove away together, and ca.me at length to their destination—one of tho largest houses in Cirosvenor Place. The establishment was lighted from top to bottom. A roll of crimson cloth lay across the pavement; a, constant stream of carriages ebbed and flowed before the door, and nt the. head of the stairs one of the most fashionable and exclusive hostesses in London gTceted Hardy warmly.

He was already beginning to feel the subtle intoxication of success. In her shy, quiet way Lena slipped in: she was terribly afraid of great ladies like her hostess. She had only come here to-night to please Hardy, but there were many people here to whoru s-he was known, and almost at, once she was sur rounded by a bevy of friends. Looking up presently, she saw with a smile that Philip Hardy was in animated discussion* with the very woman whom they had so recently been discussing. They made a handsome pair as they stood there together, and Lena sighed just a little enviously as she recognised the fact.

The dark, .glittering eyes of Eleanor Marsh Tested on Hardy's face with a subtle flattery. He was always moved to Ms .best in the presence of this -woman, -though, .there was something- about

her at the same time that repelled him. She was smiling her sweetest and best now; her words of welcome, were smooth and well chosen.

''Lucky in. war, lucky in love,' , she said gaily. "Is it a fact that I am to congratulate you on your engagement to Lena Grey? But why did you not tell mc before supper to-night?"

Philip nodded gravely. Just for a moment the woman's face grew hard : she hid. her eyes behind her fan. It was only a fleeting spasm, and a second later she was smiling as gloriously as ever. With a. bow and a smile she turned to another man who had just come up to claim her society. Philip moved on. thinking nothing of this interview, and little dreaming how fateful it was going to be for him. He was just a little bored and tired of this idle frivolity; lie wanted to be alone, to think over the events of the evening. Perhaps Lena divined what was uppermost in his mind, for she stole across the room and laid her hand on his arm.

''Don't you want to go?" she asked. "Philip, you have been working too ha.rd lately, your eyes look tired and misty. Whatever yon do, don't forget to think of your health."

Hardy laughed indifferently. He was feeling to-night that he could defy the fates in all directions. He was so well, so strong, and so successful that ill ness of any kind seemed far removed from him. lie had listened lightly to a famous specialist's statement that he would have to be careful of his heart. True, lie saw things in a dim and misty way sometimes, but a. day or two's rest speedily gave relief. All the s*me, he professed himself ready to do anything that Lena needed. t-he drew him towards the door.

"Then let us go." she said. ''Take mc home to aunt's flat. She will not be

back just yet, so thai we can have a delicious hour together. We have been in London now for over a month, -and I have only seen you twice in the last fortnight."'

"I feel horribly guilty."' Hardy laugh cd. "We won't have a. cob; we will walk as far as the flat."

Lena, asked nothing better: she felt perfectly happy now. as they sauntered along with her hand in her iover's arm, and listening to his glowing plans for the future. Jt was about himself that he talked, ajid Lena, wa.s too- wrapped in him to notice the selfish egotism of it all. She was only too happy in the knowledge that she had won this man's affection; she was frightened by the reflection tbat she might not be worthy of him. With his head in the air, Hardy strode aJong. quickening his pace unconsciously. As they turned a corner, a shabbily dressed man, loafing furtively along, came in more or less violent contact with Hardy. The man's shiny hat fell to the ground: be muttered something angrrily about the stupidity of people who would not take the trouble to look where they were going. Hardy apologised in his superior iminner: the man appeared to be about to retort angrily, then suddenly turned on his heel and crossed the. road.

lie stood just for a moment watching the retreating figures. his face was working convulsively; iie threw up his head and laughed bitterly. The others were out of sig-ht now.

'"Philip Hardy—and. as I live. Lena Grey." hp muttered, "t wonder if they recognised mc: but that is quite impossible. If they had, Lena would surely have stopped: she was always forgiving a.nd sweet-tempered. 1 wonder if it is possible " The man slopped abruptly, and drifted down the street. {To be continued daily.)