MR. PERKINS Of New Jersey, Of. THE STOLEN BONDS.

Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 142, 16 June 1888, Page 7

MR. PERKINS Of New Jersey, Of. THE STOLEN BONDS.

CHAPTER VIII. (Continued.) «What became of your father's property?' Z;i\sx\ov, trying to tolve the mystery. all disappeared. We were living on ~ Pani'eV's money when that terrible gS^-' again her voice failed k'Had Mrs Kamsey always been kind to you before that t !w&cly°«fil'sfcmcet J^eys?' •He had been papa's ward j pap knew WmVell and thought highly of him. He S tie only man ho would.let me know; hesuid I was too young for beaux. • And you were engaged to him i '\Vith your father's consent?' .Wo; after his disappearance Horace ■aid beinff Wt«" * \ fc would be safe, r So a protector, and lie was so much S£ he would know besfc what to do ; 1 fc be guided by him in all things He Eed so good^nd wise,1 she added in a Quivering voice. 1 'Did Mrs Ramsey know of your engagement? said Marlow, trying to find out the exact state of affairs. ' Not at first, not till after Jenny left. • ' Wbere was Jenny all that time V 'She was a shopgirl and worked down town, and soon alter papa disappeared Jcnuv disappeared-and - '.ho broke down. Anawkward pans© followed. •I'erhnpa I ought to tell you why Mrs Ramsey t"'lied nic oub of the h°Ufee>' ™[d Ethel, trying to swallow her sobs. xou wont knew what to think.' <Ko no; don'fc distress yourself; 1 know everything. Now let me give you a little sketch of my story. My mother disappeared one night, disappeared down those Stairs while I sat here waiting for her to come back—she never came back ! and the police are looking for her to this day. and without a clue till lately. A former servant wrote me word to come to him ; he was sick and wanted to tell me somethin"-, So I went—and there was Jenny, Jiired to nurse him ; she had written the note in his name. He was very ill, and before lie could tell me anything, except that k had helped to kidnap her, ha was taken with a convulsion and could say no more. That night he disappeared and cannot be found.' ' ' How awful,' cried Ethal. 'Ithen went back to interview Jenny, \fho called herself Lizzie, thinking he might have told her something, bub she had overtaxed her strength and was taken very ill, and sent to the hospital. Wheu I found her there she was dying, and that is how I came to be there when you came in Slid heard everything. I followed you into the street, tearing for you to go home alone. And now try and noc think of ifc anymore. Let it.pass from you as an ugly dream.' Ethel sat mute for awhile looking down on her properly-folded hands ; then they unfolded, the slender lingers interlaced ar.d locked together. Suddenly she raised her kad ; her dark eyes opened wide as she said abruptly: ' May I ask you a question ? 'Certainly.' 'Are all men wicked? Sarah says they Bl'C,' 'I hope not,' said Marlow gravely. 'I am afraid Sarah is a pessimist.' Ethel looked puzzled. *I mean she takes jaundiced views.' ' She said they were all rascals where women were concerned.' ' ' Sarah should not talk to you so,' said Uatlow, sternly. 'But she eaid that you were as good as gold' 'j certainly am an honest man, if she means that,' said Marlow, with a, grave dignity that awed her. ' How any man can take advantage of a helpless woman is aainfamy I cannot comprehend.' inothar long siieuco, while Ethel sat with drooping head gazing upon her interlocked fingers. 'I'hen, looking up, she said tiniidly : 1 May I ask you another question V _ 'Justas many as you choose,' said he, gently, teeling an unspeakable pity for the forlorn young creature before him. 1 Why did you bring me here to your home ?'

' Because I did not know where else to take you.' 'But there are orphan asylums,' she persisted.

'True, but you are almost too large to play at being a foundling, though you are an infant in the eye of the law.' 'I didn't mean that,' she said, a little annoyed. 'But isn't there a place where big orphan girls can go V ' Perhaps there is ; I never have investigated the subject. lam afraid you are on a sort of debatable ground ; too old to goto orphan asylum, too young to go oii for yourself, neither child nor woman.' 'lama woman.' she said, drawing herEelf up with a curious sort of dignity. He bowed respectfully. ' But too young and inexperienced to mix and buflcb with the world alone.'

'Icould work; I am strong,' sho said proudly. 'Content yourself to remain here till youv father returns.'

'But I dislike to depend on the charity of a stranger, even if your father was my father's partner,' .she said. 'I hate duplicity,' thought Marlow. 'Playing a double part gives a man a guilty feeling.'

. 'Miss Dorset, I do not wish to claim credit for what is not my due. From what I have learned lately I have reason to suppose that my father died owing your father a debt. Now suppose you remain here till your father returns, as a sort of set-oil. You can do it with an easy mind, feeling no obligation.' ' 1 don't desire her thanks,' thought Madow, ' and I won't receive them, keep•ng hor hero as a decoy.' She looked at him earnestly, ' You Won't deceive me 1 there is no impropriety ?' 1 Under the circumstances, on my honour, hone. I will treat you as if you were my Bister.'

'I wish you were my brother,'she said wistfully. 1 Would you feel easier to call me so ?' he astad smiling, though he winced at the thought of being Dorset's son. Bub she drew back and sadly shook her head. ' No. M r Marlow will do.'

' Well, if you don't object, I would prefer to call you Mi ss Ethel '—for hedetcstod the lamo of Dorset.

'As you please,' said she gently. t 'Now, then, Alias Ethel,' said Marlow, « your mind is seb ab rest, I suggest tnab jou try to. take a good ■ rofresliinq1 sle «p and geb a little colour back into your weeks; they are very pale.' 1 1 am always pale.' put not that sort of pallor. Here comes Nm. Sarah, put your young charge to "«l that she may pet pome beauty sleep.' 'Yon talk as if I was a baby,1' said she, a I:'ttle provoked. Marlow laughed, glad to see that he could toyse.her from her dejection. 'Good night, Miss Ethel. Pleasant wpams.' tKie ya*c'lct^ ncr UP the stairs and then ™> smile died from his face and he sighed. J;|ow many parts we play,' he thought. tie turned down the »as, put on his hat W went out to continue his .search. But _M e image of his forlorn and lovely young filled his mind.

(To b$ Continued.)

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR SATURDAY, JUJNE 16< !888 e