Novelist.

Waikato Times, Volume 2537, Issue XXXI, 13 October 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Novelist.

AN OLD SCOKE. BY FREDERICK TALBOT, Author of "Jack Pngh's Legacy,'' "Through Fire and Watur," &c. CHAPTER I.—(Continued). Miss a lady largely and liberally designed by nature, 011 lines which art rendered easy and flowing, sat at a busines3-like looking writing table with a stout Russian covered account book in front of her; a large double cheque book, suggestive of the power of heavy drawing, at her side; and a little ■way off a small pile of gold that Georgie instinctively recognised as her own quarter's salary. Miss Lamprey looked up with a, pleasant smile. She had a pleasant smile for people she liked, and a very acid and severe 0110 for delinquents, but she never frowned, for frowns bring ■wrinkles, which come fast enough without.

" Well, Georgie, did you see anything of uiy girls ?" " Oh, yes, we were just in time," said Georgie, taking a seat opposite Miss Lamprey. "Just in time to see them off, and a pretty noise they were making." " Pretty dears !" said Miss Lamprey with a sarcastic smile. "And Fanny ?"

"Oh Fanny was in her corner, between smiles and tears, at the happy ending of her weekly fiction.-"

"Poor silly Fanny," cried Miss Lamprey with a shrug, " who would think she was a sister of mine. But, Vincent, what did he think of my young people T' " He said they were a very rowdy lot," replied Georgie, laughing merrily, " and although I felt bound to reprove him I inwardly shared his •convictions." " I'm so glad," replied Mrs Lamprey, and she veally looked her pleasure. "It shows that I have succeeded in impressing upon the dear girls the true cachet of high society. is my mission in life, as the deal' marchioness said only just now." '' She has been here ?" asked Georgie, with a quick glance round. " What has she left behind her?' " Nothing but an odd card-case and one of her gloves, this time. But would you believe it ? She ■ow»s nie live hundred odd pounds on Lady Bertha's account, and she •came to borrow another hundred to •take h.'.r to Bilbury Uy.stle for Christina-!. It was so lucky lliafc T was able to oblige hm - .'' " Ui'iilly !" (w'.or^ii', 41 was it sufe "<)! i ! f lu-'ttlf i:iy cwii tnnii':, of course. 1 am tolr.ve Lady Adfiiu:: jiext i/nii ; aii'.l iiio niai'ohioji'j-ri will move heaven and earth to get

me Lady Tweedside's eldest girl. But now lot us talk about your own affairs. I aui almost ashamed to offer such a distinguished young woman this modest little honorarium," moving her hand towards the little pile of gold. " Thank you," said Georgie, counting the money into her purse. "It is very acceptable. At all events T shall not be quite a penniless bride." " That reminds me," began Miss Lamprey, " you have no expectations in the way of fortune, have you V' " How should I, my dear Miss Lamprey 1 You know all about my belongings, surely." "I only know what I was told," replied Miss Lamprey, gravely. "To wit, as the lawyers say, that you were an orphan child of respectable parentage, if obscure. My school was far from flourishing at that time, and I was glad to take the terms offered, especially as they included a comfortable sum in ready money. The matter was arranged through an eminent firm of solicitors, and I heard nothing more from the beneficient friend who provided the means for your education—till to-dav."

"And now you have heard," cried Georgie, turning pale with excitement : " and is there any news about my father ?" "Not a word about your father, dear. 11l fact, from the original terms of the arrangement I think we are bound to presume your father dead; at any rate in the letter I wrote to A.B —standing for anonymous benefactor —to the care of the eminent solicitors I did not ask any questions. I simply announced the fact of your approach-

ing marriage, and suggested that it was an excellent opportunity for A.B. to show himself once more A.B. or anonymous—" " Oh! you didn't," cried Georgie, interrupting hotly; '• you didn't write a begging letter."

"Well, here is the reply," said Miss Lamprey, triumphantly holding up a letter: " A very polite and satisfactory reply. 'A. B. most courteously expresses his thanks for the satisfactory news conveyed, and has instructed his solicitors—eminent firm, you know, Georgie—to transfer the sum of one thousand pounds three per cent Consols to trustees for the benefit and use of Miss Georgiana Mason, till she comes of age, and afterwards to be at her own disposal, the only condition being that she shall make no effort to trace the donor.' There, now, what do you thing of that, Georgie, in the way of begging letters ?" " Oh, Miss Lamprey, it is all too good to be true," cried Georgie, getting up and giving her late employer a hearty hug. " I think I am just too lucky a girl altogether. It doesn't seem to be cannie all this good fortune coming to me." " Sit down, Georgie," said Miss Lamprey, adjusting her cap, tumbled by Georgie's tumultuous kisses, and trying to look se\ere, " Sit down, and take things calmly. You have been fortunate, certainly, but not more than you deserve. Indeed, I doubt sometimes whether Vincent is quite good enough for you." " Oh, Miss Lamprey," cried Georgie, " indeed I am not good enough for him. I am struck with awe and wonder whenever I think of it. How did he come to choose me 1"

" I don't see anything wonderful in that. Georgie, except perhaps, his clear-sightedness," said Miss Lamprey. looking Georgie over approvingly. " But I certainly dicl wonder, and have gone on wondering ever since, that the elder Mr Tryfoil should have welcomed you so cordially as his son's choice—a man very keen and self-seeking by nature —a member of Parliament, too, eager to increase his influence." " But he has always been so kind to me," urged Georgie, " more like a father than a stranger."

" Exactly ; all that increases my wonder, for other people's parents are rarely so demonstrative. No, I can only account for it all on the supposition that men have all a soft place somewhere about them. Well, what is it I.oftus ?" as the smart page opened the door and looked vaguely into the room. " Please 'm, here's a policeman is asking whether them's been anything missed about the house, because he's noticed a suspicious-look-ing character prying round the place more than once." " Good gracious, I hope not, Loftus," cried Miss Lamprey. " Tell Roberts directly to look after the plate. Wiiy, Georgie !" For Georgie had put her hand to her siae with a gesture of dismay. " My watch," she cried, " the dear little watch that Vincent gave me, this morning. It is gone !" " Gone V cried Miss Lamprey. " Why, when did you miss it 1 Nonsense, you must have left it in your room." " I had it at the station ; T had it coming home," cried Georgie, wringing her hands. " Oh, now I remember, I ran against a man as I was coming in, and he must have taken it ; oh, what a cruel, deceitful man!" " 3.1 un, Loftus, and tell the policeman to catch his suspicious character. Miss Mason lias had her pocket picked," crio.l ?vl i.-i =; I ,:imp;vy, energetically. Tii" pure disappeared on !iis errand, and Mis; Lamprey I llrned to (!ec>!'!ne. " My dear child, you must have fi;U the tug, surely, is the watch bruken o!r the chain '?

" Chain and all are gone," cried Georgie, in despair, "and my little seal—the little gold seal, that I prize more than anything, for it was all I had to remind me of my father." " We might get over the seal," muttered Miss Lamprey, sarcastically, " with half-a-crown, perhaps, but the watch was a beauty. Sit down, Georgie, and write a descripof it : number, makers name, and everything about it : and then, Vincent, is he still in the house V' " Yes, he is in the drawing-room with the Volkmans." " Well, Vincent must drive to the police station at once, and give notice." "Oli, Miss Lamprey!" cried Georgie, "can't we keep it from Vincent? Me will despise one so ; and I was quite cross with him for being rude to the man. And then, perhaps, the poor man didn't take it, after all. I might have dropped it. Oh ! give me a chance of getting it back before you say anything to Vincent." "Very well," said Miss Lamprey, " we won't say anything to Vincent just yet. Robert must go to the police station ; but then he is such a donkey." " I'll go myself, .Vliss Larnprey," said Georgie. " I had rather not see Vincent till I hear something about the watch. You can tell him you have sent me out on business, and—"

" What are you plotting now," cried the pleasant voice of someone who had just entered quietly in the confusion without being announced. It was Sylvia, Vincent's sister, Georgie's great friend—a friendship which had involved so much visiting at Gaunt Gate, the brother's attentions, Georgie's engagement, and all that was to folio Georgie had no secrets from Sylvia, and told her the loss she had sustained. Sylvia quite agreed that it was best not to say anything to Vincent—at all events till the chance of immediate recovery was over. The suspicious character might be taken red-handed with the watch in his possession.

" Well, I rather hope he won't," said Georgie, who liad got over the first bitterness of the loss. " Do you know that, after all I think I am glad. I felt that I was too luckly before, and that if some small misfortune did not happen the whole would go to smash like Polycrates and the ring, don't you know." " Oh, bother Polycrates," cried Sylvia, " unless its Greek for Policeofficer. Come along, Georgie, you and I will go and see the Inspector. I love that kind of place, while Miss Lamprey gets rid of Vincent." Just then the policeman returned with the news that the suspicious character had disappeared, underground no doubt, for he had been traced as far as the district railway station, atul a description of him had been sent along the line. "Suppose it should be in thegutter after all," said Sylvia, as the two girls went out on their mission. She peered over the kerb and under the phroton, and then looked at Thomas, the groom, who still stood rigid and immovable at the horses' heads.

" Thomas," cried Sylvia, " you haven't seen anything of a gold watch and chain lying about, have you 1"

" No, miss," said Tom, touching his hat, but with a suppressed grin on his face. Sylvia was not at all a dignified person, and was eren guilty sometimes of chaffing the servants. " I haven't seen a gold watch and chain, if I had I should have put them in my pocket." " True," said Sylvia. " Well, but did you see the suspicious character ?" "I saw a very seedy looking party, miss. But asking your pardon, I don't think he sneaked anything away. " No," replied Sylvia doubtfully, " but he sneaked away himself." " That's just it, miss," said, Thomas, who in this conversation put in touches of the hat as an author puts in—or somebody else for him—his commas and semicolons. " The party walked off just as boldly as you please, and wasn't in no hurry neither, miss; stopped an' ask me a question, miss, he did." " And what did he ask you, Thomas," continued Sylvia, to whom Georgie gave a pinch of of admonishment. " He aslc me, miss," said Thomas, gravely, working in more touches of tlie hat than a proper regard for punctuation demanded, " he ask me for master's name, if you please, begging your pardon, miss." "Oil, you needn't apologise, Thomas," said Sylvia, airily, " And you told liim, I suppose." "No, miss. I hadn't no orders." The young ladies walked on and were coolly received at the police station, where there was a fragrant smell of dinner that made them feel huugry, while the click of billiard balls, and the general appearance of careless ease suggested that the guardians of the law were having a good time of it generally; all but the inspector on duty who kept up the traditions of official dignity and imperturbability. He took everything down in his official notebook, even to the initials on the seal " fr M., in plain 'lot ff.ist, ' s i;d flcorgir, " My own initials, i value !hn.s.?a! as much as anything, for it was my father's, and I believe his father's iioi'oi':? him." "Ist).). -Miss, ' said t!i" in-pact >r, in a vuico (hit implied co u-

passionate toleranco of female prolixity. " A sort of heirloom, in fact. And yet the letters represent your own initials, miss, I think you said," with an inflexion of suspicion in the voice as if here Uiere were a flaw of some kind.

" Yes, my own initials, as is happens," said Georgie, anxious to explain everything to the satisfaction of the man iu office, "my name being Georgina while my father's name was George."

"Ah, Mason! I think you said, miss," said the inspector, carelessly turning over some printed sheets. "A curious coincidence," he continued, " but, of course, nothing but a coincidence. Only we've just had the word to look out for George Mason, a convict escaped froiri Portland Prison. But the description don't resemble you, miss. So I shan't take any further steps in that way," resumed the inspector, in a consciously jocose manner, as if he were accustome;! to, like other legal functionaries, to be raised very highly when lie did condescend to joke. Indeed two subordinate policemen who were waiting their Inspector's pleasure, smiled very hard as if struggling from a sense of official

decorum to smother hilarious feelings. But the girls were not amused. Sylvia, whose bravado was only skin deep, wanted to run away, but Georgie, who with more natural shyness had a greater amount of physical courage, held her friend by the arm as she confronted the Inspector.

" I beg your pardon," said Georgie, firmly, " but do you suspcct either myself, or anybody belonging to me, of beiug an escaped convict 1"

" That was only a pleasantry 011 my part," replied the Inspector, suddenly resuming his stern, official manner." " Ladies, your case shall be attended to, although I can give you very little hope of recovering the property alleged to be stolen. Constable Smith, open the door for these ladies."

"We shall have to tell Vincent now," said Georgie. ruefully, as they walked back to Cornwall Square, " and I don't know what he'll say to inc."

" You had better tell papa about it," said Sylvia. "Heis so fond of you that I dare say he will get you another watch just like the last, and then Vincent need never know."

Georgie shook her heacl. "I didn't think that would quite do. No, I will stick to the path of rectitude, although it looks awfully thorny." It had been arranged that Georgie should spend the greater part of her holidays at Gaunt Gate, and she was to begin her visit this very evening—a visit to be commenced by a state dinner party, given in honour of herself and Vincent. Miss Lamprey was going too, and sent Georgie upstairs to dress in good time, as she was apt to dawdle over her toilette, and Miss Lamprey did not like to fce kept waiting. The night was foggy and cold, and Georgie shivered inroluntarily at the sight of the state dinner dress, so altogether wanting about the shoulders and neck, that lay waiting on the bed in all its dignity. Georgie had the state bedchamber now, a handsomelyfurnished room, with a grand fire blazing on the hearth, and well lighted with gas and candles. With plenty of time before her, Georgie lingered over lier dressing, and, donning a loose wrapper, sat dowu before the fire to think over matters. The sight of the comfort and even luxury that surrounded her recalled the different lot of the half-starved looking man who had probably carried off her watch.

" Poor fellow, I don't blame him much," she said to herself. " Perhaps he had a starving wife and children, and it's quite a comfort to think what a good time they will all have this Christmas."

Georgie, in her vivid way, made quite sure of the wife and children, and began to speculate as to how the man would dispose of the watch, and lay out the proceeds to the best advantage. But he would be terribly robbed in disposing of the watch. Now, would it not be better for all parties to offer a good reward, say ten pounds, and no questions asked. Georgie settled all this satisfactorily in her own mind, and even put aside the tea pounds as not to be counted in her mental estimate of ways and means.

And from that she went 011 to think over the coming visit to Gaunt Gate, which secretly ."he dreaded just a little. Mr Try foil was certainly very kind, but his wife was hardly so genial. She was a handsome woman still, although the mother of a grown-up son ; but to George's miud there was something repellant about her. An air of gloom seemed to hang about the house when husband and wife were together. There was often harshness in the tone in which Mr Try foil addressed his wife, and on her part a shrinking submissiveness that seemed to conceal something not far from aversion. Tlie management of her children too had always been taken out of her hands, and she held a strange isolated position in the household, so that. Georgia had ol'ltMi pi tied her although she did not like 11r. And liieii, Mr Tryfuil altii iiigh a prosperous, sticewsst'ul man. ii.nl ii!',v:iys a gloj-ny an-1 prouyatipiod air. Some hidden borrow st'oniod to pvey upon bin. Georgia's train of thought wns

interrupted by the entrance of Miss Lamprey's maid, who brought iu a letter which had just avrivod. A not very promising looking letter in a brown and dusty onvelope. Georgie scrutinised the address, but could not recognise the handwriting, so she broke open tho seal and read—

"If G.M. wants to hear of her watch let her come alone to the corner of James Street, next St. James Park Station, fit eight tonight. Alone and without saying a word to anybody, for the sake of one who wishes her well."

Georgie threw down the note in delight. " I shall get my watch again, and Vincent will know no-

thing about it," she cried. " How does he know my name," she puzzled. Well, those people had ways of finding out through servants she concluded. But eight o'clock ! and it was now half-past seven. Still, the South Kensington station was close at hand, and she could reach S. James's Park in a few minutes. She could be back soon after eight, if she did keep Miss Lamprey waiting for a quarter of an hour or so; yet to return with her watch safe and sound would sufficiently excuse her want of punctuality. So without giving herself any time for hesitation, Georgie wrapped herself up in a dark thick Ulster, counted out ten sovereigns which she placed between her glove and her palm—ran down stairs and let herself quietly out into the dark night. (To be continued.)