THREE MEN AND A MAID.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9045, 3 February 1908, Page 2

THREE MEN AND A MAID.

[All Eights Reserved.]

CHAPTER X.—Continued

"Have you determined to remain in Hudston?" asked Marjorie. "I was told you had left for a week. Jf I want you in a hurry, how shall I be able to find you?" "Call at the inn. Say that you wish to see me at a certain hour, and I shall be with you at the time and place fixed, if not, you will find some one who represents me." "Have you any instructions to give me before we part?" "What did I tell you yesterday morning?" "That I was to breathe my suspicions to no ohe except you." "Well " "But I have not." "Why did you say, then, you had found Mr Warren's ring?" . "I see. You mean that I am not to discuss affairs at all." "Yes. lam SQrry now I did not caution you more fully." "Because you would like Mr Warren to have his ring again?" "I have nothing to do with that. My business is with crime and criminals not with moon-struck people who cling to legends." "Ah," she cried almost joyfully, "you are admitting that Mr Warren is not a criminal." The detective put forth a horrified hard at Iter and turned abruptly away with a hasty "Good-night." But he stopped in the shadow of a house and watched her trim figure flitting down the dimly-lighted village street. Close to Marjorie stumbled the ungainly form of Felix. "Philip Warren may or may not be a criminal," thought Winter, "but he is several kinds of a fool to run so hard when a girl like that is chasing him." On reaching the Greyhound, Marjorie became conscious that Felix was still following her. She gave him some silver and whispered: "Say nothing about the ghost. If you do, it will haunt you always." Never had the idiot's tongue been quieted so effectively. Nothing short of torture would wring a word from his lips as to events that night in Lancault churchyard. Marjorie was received with some clamour at home. "Funny goin's on be these," grumbled her father. "They said you were off 10 London this mornin', an' here be you wanderin' about Hudston lanes after ten o'clock a 4", night. I don't like it, lass, an' you'd better end it." "Father," she said, "have you, too, ?osfc faith in me?" A wave of tenderness and sympathy for the troubles which had overwhelmed the man sprung up in her. It was useless to pretend that she had not gone out of the livse of the old coupJe who dwelt in that narrow environment of the inn and its "season," but she was, nevertheless, their daughter, and she was sorry for them. Jonas was somewhat shaken by her words, and he could not maintain his angry look before her steadfast gaze. "No, no lass, not that," he growled, "but folks do be say in' all sorts, ard this be a quiet place, not used to the ways of big towns. I suppose now, no one would think it wrong if Fennell's Tower was in the middle of London." Were it not for the gloom in her soul she could have laughed. She bent forward and kissed him. "Bad people will think wrong of anybody anywhere," she said, "but 1 want mother and you to help me now, not .to be vexed with me because you do not understand everything that occurs." "Well, well, lass," said Jonas, scratching a perplexed head. "I wouldn't give tuppence what was said if Hannah and you were to make up your differences." "But that will never be, for she is my worst enemy." "Dang it all, Marjorie, if you quarrel wi' her'an'drive her away, the business will go to wrack an' ruin." "It shall not. I promise you that. I can draw twenty customers to the Greyhound to the one she can attract. I will help you and servo you to the utmost. But I cannot and will not leave Hudston. If I am not permitted to remain at home, 1 shall hire a room in the village." "Nay, nay. That shall never be, while there is a bed an' a bite in thy father's house." "Quite touching!" came a sneering voice from the end of the passage in which Marjorie and her father were standing. Hannah, with the soft tread of a cat stalking a mouse, had crept into ear-shot when she heard her sister enter. A fierce impulse rose in Marjorie's breast to denounce the woman who had betrayed her and Philip in order to gratify a lust for money and position. But she crushed her breath, and found joy rather in practising a new born patience. "I mean it, Hannah," she said quietly. "I cannot see any reason why you and I should quarrel. You are in a fair way to gain all. I have lost all. If I am satisfied, why should you war against me? J Hannah was struck suddenly dumb by this avowal. She had expected Marjorie to come home in a hot rage after the shock of losing the ring had passed. And Jonas said hurriedly, thinking to patch up the -anexpected truce between his offsprings: "That's better. What is there to fight about? Mowt, to my mind. Ye'll be hungry, Marjorie. Come along an' get summat to eat." Something to eat is a specific against all other evils in Yorkshire. So Marjorie, buoyed up with the knowledge that Philip Warren lived and was not far distant, sat and ate a hearty meal, and Hannah watched her, wondering and doubting and torturing her mind with indecision

By ROBERT ERASER.

[Published By Special Arrangement.]

whether to declare undying hate or pretend to lot bygones tic bygorirs. Next morning there Wtis a curious transition in the Greyhound. Marjorie and Hannah changed placet;. Without any discussion, by a sort of tacit agreement, Marjorie became the housekeeper and Hannah the lady of leisure. Before the close of the week the new order was firmly established. In a small village, such a shuffling of parts in the characters of a drama with whose every twist and turn all Hudston was familiar, could not fail to attract attention. And there were several unexpected developments. In the first instance, the Greyhound did a roaring trade. Not only the shopkeepers and farmers of Hudston, bjt the local gentry for miles around made one excuse or another to drop into the hotel and exchange a few words with Jonas or his pretty daughter. They all treated Marjorie with respect and sympathy. Her mere presence was enough to check the rough speech of some of the livelier spirits. Even the hotel servants came to her help, and, whereas Hannah, at busy periods, had to use her hands, Marjorie found that it was sufficient to give directions to waiters and maids, and these humble assistants did all in their power to lighten her labours. Each evening she did not fail to visit Lancault. Her resolve was fixed now that no stupid terror of ghostly manifestations should prevent her from challenging any one she met there. Nevertheless, on quiet nights, she heard nothing but the echo of he.i own footsteps on the worn slabs, and, vhen the weather was haish, the sobbing of the wind through the ivy was in unison with her own tad thoughts. And Philip came not. He seemed to have passed into the region of the dead. One afternoon, in the smoking-room of the inn, tfie head keeper of the Courthope estate attracted Marjorie's artistic eye. He was a man of middle age, with the sturdy, oak-like aspect induced by his calling. Dressed in green corduroy, with gun, game-bag and attendant retriever, he made a picturesque figure, and the girl made afsketch of him, as a draw-ing-block and colour-box chanced to be at hand. Jonas and he had much to talk about. A colony of foxes in a neighbouring covert was playing havoc with game and chickens, so when the keeper rose to go Marjorie had caught a very fair portrait. "By gum, miss," said he, when she showed it to him, "that's the finest thing I've seen for many a day. I rriust have it, whatever the price. Now, what'll be the cost of it?" She demanded five shillings for the Cottage Hospital Fund, and velveteens cheerfully deposited the coins in a box provided for the purpose. He carried off his treasure. Within an hour, Marjorie had three sitters. Next day she was honoured by a commission from James Courthope. Now, James' visits to the Greyhound had been rare of late, and Hannah's Sunday clothes had been displayed to a wondering village without their proper setting of an accompanying and obedient squire. Hannah had written io the Court, and James replied, reasonably enough that he was busy with estate affairs connected with the succession. It was not to Hannah's liking, therefore, that his first hour of leisure should be given to portrait-painting, even for the benefit of the sick, and he was hardly across the threshold of the inn before she came to meet him. "I was looking out of my bedroom window, and saw you riding down the street," she explained. "Have you come to take me f6r a walk?" "No," he said coolly. "That was not my idea. My head keeper showed me,a sketch of Marjorie's, and I dropped in to ask her to do a large one of my noble self." "Sorry I can't draw, but I am still able to talk," snapped Hannah. "You are the only .woman able to draw me," was the pleasant answer'. "Come Hannah, why be vexed with me? Robert is hardly dead yet, so it would be bad taste to parade our courtship before the village gapers. Or do you suspect me of wishing to flirt with your small sister? If so, come with me and listen." (To be continued.)