CHAPTER XXIII. A NOVEL PASTIME.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 184, 25 December 1886, Page 3

CHAPTER XXIII. A NOVEL PASTIME.

IHaroaret stood motionless until she heard the door close after him. Then she glided iato that corner of tho room where she and her lover had eat that last night, and getting -down upon her knees, she began to look carefully all about for Arthur's missing diamond. She moved the tete-a-tete aside, *nd lifting the draperies from the floor, Searched carefully along the edge of the carpet, but she found nothing. '* I do not believe he loßt it here," she B*id ;" but he loßt it that night x and— tvhereV , , She was about to rise from her kneeling posture when her attention was attracted by the arrangement of the rich curtains •where they were drawn back from the window and the arch between tbe two *Soma and fastened in folds in the corner " How awkwardly the girls arrange these things," Margaret said. She took the massive tassels in her hands, untied the heavy corde, and wag on the j>oint of shaking out the draperies preparatory to gathering them up more grace felly, vW something made her stop. The next moment she T^aa bending over them oren closer than before. " Ah!" It was a sharp, startled cry that broke from her. And what she saw was sufficient to cause anyone a shock of surprise, for there, caught among the overehot threads, and almost in the heart of a Tich crimson rose, like a great drop of glittering dew, was a pure, gleaming diamond ! ** It is his !" phe cried, in a breathless voice, " but how came it here ?" She stood as if paralysed tor a moment ; then, with resolution evident in her pale face, she added : ** I have a clue at last ; but, oh ! it issuch a slight one, I fear it will lead to nothing tangible. Nevertheless I shall follow it, if it takes me as long as I live." ******* The next day Mrs Houghton'3 maid was taken violently ill, and their physician, upon being called, pronounced her disease to be fever of a malignant type, and advieed that ehe be removed at once from the house, as Miss Houghton in her present delicate con. dition was liable to take it. So the poor girl was removed to her own horne — being fortunate enough to have one In the city and a trained nurse was proTided to give her proper care. Every day Mrs Houghton drove out to ccc how ehe was progressing, and Margaret accompanied her, although ebe w*s not allowed to alight, her mother going in alone to aecertain the nesds of her maid and to -carry her comforts and delicacies. The house where ehe was ill was a bumble one, in a narrow street which had once been an important business locality. Years before there had been a fine array of shops and bazaars upon one side of it, while upon the other immense warehouses locmed gloemily above them. But as the tide of humanity rolled more *nd more into the city, pushing and crowding into every available nook and cornei, business interests had gradually been removed to the more aristocratic portion of the town, and then the buildings on the soath side of the street had been made into dwellings for the poorer classes, and those on the north rented for storage or left empty and deserted ■It was not a plea?ant locality, but rents 'were low there, and as the poor are forced to take what they can get for their money, they flocked into every available space. It was a pingular fact, however, that people t-hunned tho side of the street that was uninhabited ; the fide walk there was almost deeerted, while the opposite one was teeming with life. After dork the inhabitants of that place were disinclined to walk in the shadows of those great, gloomy buildings, and thus alter a time the belief gradually prevailed that they were haunted. Into this place, however, Margaret Houghton and her mother drove every day upon their errand of mercy, and after Mrs Houghton alighted, the driver was in the habit of turning his horses about and driving up to the opposite sidewalk, while ■waiting for her reappearance, in order to be out of the way of other vehicles passing through. Thus Margaret eat in the carriaga one day, -n-»iting for her mother, who, for SOIBe reason, remained much longer than usual ■with Annette, her maid. The young girl was extremely nervous arid imoatient that afternoon. She was sitting nearly opposite a narrow alley, which led at right angles through to another street running parallel with the one they •were on. She had never noticed it before, but new she saw that there were entrances all along, as far as her eye could reach, to the empty buildings on her right. Suddenly her attenrion was attracted by peeine a man come out of one of these doors in the alley- the third one from the corner. Apparently, he was an old man, having white hair, and a full, grizzled beard. He ■was very ordinarily dressed, wearing a on g grey coat, a tall black hat of somewhat antiquated shape, and cheap, thick shoes. He etopped a moment to lock the door after him, after which he tried it to see if he had fastened It securely ; then he turned and came down Vhq alley toward the street, swinging his kay S carelessly in his hand. Margaret noticed the keys particularly there were two of them — became one hit against the other, making a littte musical ring 'and she saw, too, that they were faetened together by a small biaea chain. She drew back out of the man's eight, although she still watched him, as he came out of tbe alley almost facing her ; but hia .head was bent as if in deep thought, and at first he did not appear to observe tho carriage standing so quietly there When he did, however, he gave a start of surprise, and shot a keen glance at the driver 6ifcting so dignifiedly upon his box. Then he ewept a startled look into the carriage, and though he could not see Margaret, she caught the brilliant fla?h of those eyes and her heart gave a frightened bound. The next moment be resumed his thoughtful mien, and passed on, up towards the large- and broader street which crossed, a lev/ blocks above, the one he was on. The minute hia back was turned, Mar•ret g'enned out of the carriage window and

cloßely watched him. She noticed that ha limped slightly as he walked— limped with the left foot— and also that the ungloved hand, from which the keys were still swinging, was not the hand of an old man at all, but; white, and delicate, and rosetipped like a lady's She watched him out of sight, until he turned a corner, then she sank back, white and trembling, among the cushions of the carriage, where Mrs Houghton found her soon after white as death and as afcrengthloss as an infant. "I have tired you out, Margie, keeping you waiting here in the celd bo long," she cried, in a voice of self-reproach. " I believe I will never bring you into this dismal place again." " I think I am rather more tired than usual, mamma," Margaret answered, weakly ; " there is a disagreeable chill, too, in the air to day ; but I shall be all right again when we get where there is a cheerful fire and I am rested. How did you find Annette this afternoon?" " Shu is much better, and declares that she will be able to return to us by another week," Mrs Houghton answered. In spite of her assurance that she should be all right when Bhe was rested, Margaret did not get over the effects of her excitement for a day or two, but seemed nervous, depressed, and preoccupied, while Bhe would start violently and glance about her in a half frightened way at every unusual sound. The third day, however, when Arthur Aspinall called,he found a pleasant change in her. She was looking much better, while she seemed more cheerful and animated than she had appeared since her lover's dis appearance She greeted him cordially, and immediately fell into a social chat with him, and w as so kind and affable that he could hardly believe she was the «atne person, " Gome and see what I am doing," she said to him, after a while, and, rising, she led him to a table at the other end of the room and upon which there stood a glass case, having a black velvet bed within it, to which various coins and curioua designs in red aealing-wax were attached. "Ah, you are making a collection of coins, Margie," he said, bending down to examine them more closely. " Yes ; I began it several years ago, and for a time was very much interested in it ; but after a while I grew weary of it and put my case away. It occurred to me, however, a few days ago, that I had plenty of time now and a good opportunity to gain something new, being in a foreign country, so I have brought it forth, hoping to get some amusement out of it." " You have quite a variety of coins— some rare ones, too, Arthur observed. "Yes ; there are two or three— -these,"' touching them lightly -with the tip of one of her dainty fingers, "that I have been very enticingly invited to dispose of upon two or three occasions. Thi3 very fact, however, only served to make mo desire more earnestly to keep them." " But what are these designs in red wax?" the young man inquired, turning his attention to them. "These," pointing to four or five, " are copies of some rare medallions which a friend in Boston allowed me to take." " But how were you able to reproduce them so nicely ?" "I made a mould, or impression, of plaster of Paris, and then melted my wax ' and filled it with it," Margaret explained. ! "This is a queer device; may I ask what it is intended to represent?" Arthur asked, taking up a circular tablet that had received a curioue impression. Margaret gave him a swift, searching glance ; but he did not observe it. "Oh, that is a little invention of ray own," ehe said carelessly. " After making a copy of the medallions I spoke of, I conceived the idea of taking the impression of different kinds of koys. I first form uay little tablet from melted wax," shoeing him one that was perfectly plain, "then, whenever I find a curiously shaped key, I heat it moderately and stamp it upon the smooth surface). " 11 That is a novel idea." " Yes, and perhaps a foolish one : but I think very few people have any idea of the many curious keys that exist in the world ; you perceive I have several that are very queer. By the way, havu't you something unique that you would allow me to take an impression from, to put with my collection ?" The question was lightly put, but a close observer would have seen that the young girl was waiting with considerable interest, if not anxiety, for hia reply. " I don't know of anything, ' Arthur answered, plunging his hands into bia pccketß and bringing forth several keys of various shapes and ei/es Her eyea lighted for a moment as her quick glance passed from one to another ; then a look of disappointment swept over her face. "Those are all modern,' she qaid, indifferently. "I want something old and queer ; have you no others ?" " Yes, 1 have others, but nothing very curious, I am afraid, unless it ia one belonging to an old-fashioned valise that was my grandfather's. " 4i Anything will be acceptable. Suppose you bring all you have around to-morrow and let me select from them ?" She spoke nervously and with an unsual flush on her cheek. " Very well, I will," Arthur replied, and then he stood watching, while she gathered up her treasure s and carefully re placed them in their case,