A Daughter of Mystery

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10254, 5 June 1911, Page 2

A Daughter of Mystery

BY F. L. DACRE, Author of "Was lie the Man?" "A Phantom of the Past," Sir John's Heiress," "A Loveless Marriage," "The Doctor's Secret," etc. j

OUR SERIAL.

CHAPTER XXIII .-—Continued

Mrs Mobberly was greatly disturbtd "I)o you think that she is dissatisfipd—that she is likely to leave tho office, .1 a 11 h'-. We are i us *- getting straight with tlio tradesmen,, and I dread being unable to pay the bills again when they become due. * "Don't make" trouble, my dear Laura. F don't think that Miss Tyndall will bo in a hurry to leave us." He smiled knowingly, and glanced in the direction of the garden. "She and Mr Stanley arc as thick as thieves, and she is. personally, very much attached to us, too." ft was Sunday afternoon, and the weather was delightful. It was butterfly time, and, the'garden was now a garden of roses. The bees hummed among - the drowsy fragrance, but there was no other sound, except the low-toned voices of Miss Tyndall and the curate. She was occupying the one ond of a. garden seat, and he was lying back in an easy chair. Above them was stretched an awning of white canvas for the sun was very hot.

pain and disappointment in his eyes. But it was so unexpected, and she had never dreamed that he thought of her in that way. And until now sho had not heard one word from him since that unhappy day. This is what he had written:

Curiously enough they were talking about Elneth's present and future, but there were no lovers' glances, no lovers' softly spoken words. It was merely n business conversation between two people whose mental qualities were similar, and whose sympathies ran very much in the same groove. s "Your knowledge of Russia and the Russians, politically and socially, is just what I have been lacking, Miss Tyndall. a-s I have been unable to study the theme on the spot. To colour nly work from the writings of any other man would be fatal to my book and my sell-esteem. My life here is no more congenial to me than Chancery Laiie is to you, and if we collaborated it would be a good thing for both." "You offer me a percentage of the profits?'' Slio shook her head iy. '<Ttoa't is it/ (exactly. I am not dangling an uncertainty before your eyes; I am a man. with an established reputation, though under another name, and would pay you for your work as it progressed. You are simply wasting your life and opportunities now —typing legal rubbish for a salary of a pound per week." "Twenty-five shillings,". Elneth corrected him.

"Perhaps you will remember that I was afraid of your being persecuted by your late guardian, but you assured me that lie was abroad, and had no further control over you. I was rather anxious for you, because certain advertisements had been appearing in the personal columns of a daily newspaper. For the moment I allowed tlio matter to drop, but as these advertisements are still being published, and certainly concern yourself, I think that some action should be taken to put an end to what must be an intolerable nuisance. I can only imagine that your guardian paid for a long series of the advertisements, and I enclose one of them. No doubt Mr Lawrence will advi.se you what to do. If I can help you in any way I am always at your service. Very sincerely yours, CHARLIE LOKiNGTON."

A blaze of anger leaped into the girl's eyes, and her face whitened even to the lips. Her full name arid a personal description in a public print! And a reward offered for information concerning her! The name and address at the foot of this precious item was that of a private detective —John Foxer, Elen Chambers, Surrey Street, W.C. It was Ronald Heseltine's doing, of course, and she resented it bitterly. She heard Mrs Mobberly's voice in the hall, and slipped the letters into her pocket. Then Mr Mobberly came in, and breakfast began. "I've had two hours in the garden,' 1 he said, rubbing his hands together, "and I am as hungry as a hunter! My show of roses this year will be tho very finest on record." As he had said this every rose season for the past twenty years, ho comment was forthcoming. "I do hope Jones, next door, will keep his beast of a cat out of the garden while we are on, our holiday. Cats ought to be licensed or taxed, and have to wear a collar, with the owner's name engraved thereon. Then thev would soon be thinned down a bit!"

"And I would cheerfully pay you five pounds. There would bo no more hurrying' to the city, no more swelter, ing, dusty offices —and all the other discomforts and undignified etceteras."

"But am T capable—am I ——" "You have a facile pen and an exuberant imagination; qualities which are mine in a lesser degree; but, what is more to the point, you are steeped in experience, knowledge, and local colour."- •

"I will think it over, Mr Stanley," Elneth said. "My mind is so unsettled at piesent." She pressed her hand wearily to her brow.

"Although I hate everything Russian, I have Russian blood in my veins," he went oa. "A. little —a very little. My father was an Englishman, and my mother the daughter of a Russian noble, who had married an English wife. I am dark, like my Russian grandfather. Well, I shall expect your favourable answer in a day or two, and I want you to remember that you and you alone are essential to the success of my new book.' "You shall have my decision very soon, Mr Stanley," Elneth said. The next morning there were two letters for Miss Tyndall, and at sight of them lying on the breakfast table a deathly whiteness overspread her face. One of them bore the New York postmark, and the writing on the envelope was that of Paul Morosov. From whom the second one came she could not even hazard a guess, and her mind Mas full of vague terrors. Her first impulse was to secrete them in her dress before the Mohberlys came in to breakfast, then, with an assumption of carelessness, but with shaking hands, she tore off the cover of Morosov's letter, and a strip of paper fluttered to the carpet. It was an American draft for twenty-five pounds, payable in England! The letter enclosed with it was brief, but kind, and read as follows:

"When do you have your holiday, James?" Mrs Mobberly asked. "Why, you haven't washed your hands!" "Oh, that's only the stain from my new fertilizer. You know we always have a fortnight before the long vacation, and I shall probably get off ' next week. What do you say to Brighton this year? Now, if we can manage Miss Tyndall's holiday at the same time " He shook his head. "I am afraid we can't. I don't want to impose too much on Mr Lawrence's generosity." ! "How pale you are this morning, Miss Tyndall," Mrs Mobberly observed kindly. "And you are eating nothing. Try some toast and maraar lade."

"My Dear Elneth: I am sending your quarterly allowance, now due. Wo are settled in New York, and have a nice house near Central Park. When you are tired of England come to your rightful home. Mrs Morosov and the children miss you very much. With love from your affectionate PAUL MOROSOV."

But Elneth declined. "We must arrange your holiday with mine, Miss Tyndall," Mt Mobberly decided. "We can't leave you here to look after yourself. I'll speak to Mr Lawrence to-day." "Pray do not include me in your plan of campaign," Elneth said quietly. "I dislike the work at the office, and shall resign at once. My place there can be filled quite eas~ Had a bombshell dropped into the room the shock to the Mobberly could not have been more complete.; The breakfast cup midway between Mr Mobberly's lips and the table was set down with a clatter, while liis wife stared at Miss Tyndall in terrified amazement. Again she had visions of the tradesmen's .importunities, and the struggle to make both ends meet. Of course, the'curate was at the bottom of the mischief. A holiday Brighton would now be impossible. "You have astounded me, Miss Tyndall," Mr Mobberly ,said( when he had partially recovered, "and I am very, very-sorry." He pushed away his unfinished breakfast, "Of course,,l have no right to, be inquisitive, but have •you something better to do. London is full of pitfalls, and " He waved his thin hands deprecatingly. "I have pleasuriter work whidh I can do at home, if Mrs Mobberly does not object to having me about the house all day." "Object to you! Oh, my dear!"

Elnetl) gave a little gasp of astonishment, not unmixed with pleasure. So the money was coming regularly—-twenty-five pounds every three months —one hundred pounds a year! She did not pause to ask herself how Pinil Morosov came to discover her exact postal address. In many ways he was a wonderful man. So the Morosovm were settled in New York, and the children missed her —dear little things! She turned to the second letter, and here another surprise awaited her. It was from Charlie Lorington. She reddened slightly when she remembered his proposal to her in the park. He was very much in earnest, too. and it was hard to forget the

Mr Mobberly uttered a relieved sigh and considered the question of finishing his breakfast. "I have really no necessity for earning my bread," Elneth went oix naively, "as I have an income of twenty-five pounds every three months —my own money, really and truly." She took the draft from her pocket, and handed it to Mr Mobberly. "Perhaps you would not mind getting it cashed for me? I think of doing a little literary work for Mr Stanley, and matters are shaping themselves very comfortably." (To be continued.)