Kate Melville's Courtship.

Auckland Star, Volume XL, Issue 43, 19 February 1909, Page 6

Kate Melville's Courtship.

By O. W. APPLETON;

";(All rights reserved.)

STXOPSIS" OF PBEVTOUS CHAPTERS. Dick Conynghnm, who has been mysteriously brought up by an cunt, finds himself- ruined by the extravagance of his wife, an actresS known as Coralie De Vere. His wife leaves him to resume her part on the stage. Travelling by rail to see a friend about an appointment, he Is claimed by an old and wealthy gentlewoman as her son, Harry Bishop, who disappeared three years before. Nothing he can say -—and he is strongly averse to playing the role of impostor—shakes her belief, his objections being met by the theory of lapsed memory. Dick promises to visit her at Beechwood Hall, and then continues his Journey. Ec makes a compact with his friend, Fred Glover, that it shall be rumoured that Dick Conyngham has gone to Africa and died there. Dick revisits his flat, and finds a bundle of letters belonging to Coralie. They are written from Australia by one Harry Bishop. He learns from Oswald Balrd, a friend, that this person has some power over Coralie. Going down to Amersham he meets Kate Melville, who welcomes him to Beechwood Hall as Harry Bishop. CHAPTER VIII. DICK AS A PRODIGAL SON. As Kate Melville had predicted, it proved to be a veritable repetition of the return of the Prodigal Son. The whole house was astir with the news of his arrival. Tears of joy coursed down the cheeks of the grey-haired old butler and excited maids nearly fell over each other in their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the "young master." Dick was more bewildered than ever. He wan awkward and ill at ease and played his part abominably. He turned his eyes piteously to Kate, and made a mute appeal for assistance in a trying situation. Kate was highly amused, although she had hoped for better results. It was plain enough to her now that Dick's memory was still more or less a blank. It was no part of hers to increase his confusion so she came to his rescue at once. They were now in the library. "You must make a little allowance for Harry, Mrs Bishop," said she. Don't expect too much just yet. His memory is coming back by gentle degrees. It will take a little time, I shouldn't worry j him if I were you. Let him wander about quietly just as though nothing had happened. Little by little everything will come back."

"That's the idea exactly," said Dick giving Kate a grateful look. "It confuses "mc to have everything come with a rush." "I see that it would be better so," said Mrs Bishop with just a touch of disappointment iv her voice. "I had hoped—but that doesn't matter—Make yourself at home, Harry. Don't trouble about anything, go and come as you like, you will settle down in the old groove again very soon lam sure. But how is it Kate that you two arrive together?"

"Through a' pleasant little chapter of accidents, that is all," she said. "I first espied Harry from a field path coming up the road, I gave no sign but stepped out a dozen yards ahead of him ou the highway and kept on thinking he might And something recognisable in my gait or figure. Soon his footsteps quickened, he came nearer and nearer, and at last he stepped up to ray side. I was prepared for a demonstration of some sort •now, when to ray despair he simply raised his hat and meekly enquired the way to Beechwood Hall. I felt like boxing his cars. Just fancy Harry Bishop asking mc the way to his own home." "But you didn't box my ears, Kate," said Dick, "and we got on not so badly afterwards', eh?" "Oh, yes, I perceived in you a glimmer of returning reason, and then I ceased to despair. I took him in charge Mrs Bishop, and here he is iv your excellent keeping. My responsibility is at an end, and now I must be up and away," she added rising, "I have a few purchases to make in the village." "And will return to lunch, of course," said Mrs Bishop. "On such an occasion as this you cannot refuse." "Of course not," said Dick. "The mere suggestion of such a thing is absurd. Moreover, I don't think you could be so unkind. Kate laughed heartily. " Oh, well, I don't wish to be thought unkind," said she, "especially, (as your mother says) on such an auspicious occasion as this. I'll be back, most certainly, but no slaying of fatted calves, Mrs. Bishop." Mrs. Bishop laughed in turn. " No," said she. "We hadn't time to follow the Scriptural precedent, butttheer c will be commotion in the poultry yard presently. I dare say."

In another moment Kate had gone, and, dropping her hitherto purely sentimental attitude, Mrs. Bishop, left alone with Dick, suddenly became practical. "Now, Harry," s he said, "I shall follow Kate's excellent advice, and not worry you at present with many questions, though I should like to know how on earth you have managed to live these last three years—but that will keep. You are very nicely dressed, somewhat better than usual, for you used to be rather careless at times, you know, but you have brought only a little hand bag with you; have you no other luggage?" " Oh, yes," said Dick, feeling much less ill at ease since affairs had taken such" an unexpectedly practical turn. "I have a certain amount of luggage in the Cloak Room at the Great Central Station." " Very well, yoii must write and have it sent down here at once; so far so good. Have you any other impediments in London? A wife, for instance?" This appealed to Dick's, sense of the humorous. He reflected that Coralie by this time must have reached Southampton. "A wife in London," he exclaimed. "Thank God, no. What could have put that idea into your head?" " What wonden said she, "that I liave a thousand wild ideas in my head. What can one think when a son walks out of the house one fine day without a word aud for three years makes no sign. He at length Teturns, and here in his old home and talking to his own mother, is still mentally all adrift; even as I speak to you you do not remember mc as' your mother, you do not remember mc at all. I am a stranger to you; you do seem to recall Kate, and that is an encouraging sign so far as it goes. Now, under such extraordinary circumstances, with such a complete lapse of memory, how is it possible to tell whether you have;or have not half a dozen wives somewhere in the world. However, I promised that I should not over question you now, yo;a seem rational enough so far as-the present is concerned. Have you any money, Harry?" " Oh, yes," said Dick; '"nearly twenty pounds." v '•' ■-' "And is this the extent of your resources? " ' '- •"', "Just about, I'm afraid," said he. "It's, quite time that you came home; then.—» .:. y-i,! ■■-_• >.-,,- :r: . ..,-,

Author of "The Lady in Sables," "Rash Conclusions/ etc.)

Money considerations did not bring mc here," said Dick. " I told you last evening that I had'an offer' to go to': the West Coast of Africa—that' offer is still open." " Forgive mc; Harry. I meant no 'offence, you silly boy," said she, somewhat' startled at Dick's altered manner, "you must decline .t&at offer at once ; you shall not go_ away from us again. There is: plenty of money of your own lying idle in the bank; you need not go to the West Coast of Africa in search of it. Well) I have catechised and scolded" you enough for the present; you would like to go r up to your old room,' I daresay, and have a look about the garden and stables." •vVti "That will suit mc down to the ground." said Dick. Then, leading the way, Mrs Bishop accompanied him up a broad staircase and threw open a door on the landing above. "Here it is just as you left it, Harry. Not a thing has been touched, and you will find everything in its proper place. It has been ready for your return any day during the last tnree years. Now I will leave you to your own devices," and she smilingly withdrew. Dick glanced about the room with a species of awe. There was something uncanny about the idea that in the belief of everybody in the huse, he was simply returning to his own. It was a spacious room with cosy accessories: an easy chair or two and couch in *or;gntest chintz, a reading table with a lamp, a well-stocked book-rack with a dozen excellent- water-coloured drawings on the walls, two wide windows opening, upon a lovely view. "This is delightful," said Dick, "and it's all mine on the simple condition that I stay here. Incryabie." | He opened the door of a spacious wardrobe, and found every peg occupied. He took down a coat at random, and in a spirit of inquiry tried it on. It fitted him to a nicety. He tried on others ; with the same result. It was' astonishing, and .all this array of habiliments was absolutely at his disposal. Who on earth could be the man whom he was now impersonatin V Suppose he. should knock at the door at this instant, and. entering, , demand why Dick , was overhauling his ' private wardrobe ? The idea gave Dick a momentary chill, and then he wondered who the other Harry Bishop, In far away Australia, could be, and what his relations with C'oralie could nave been, and his thoughts quickly fell into such an ' unpleasant tangle that he was glad to get out of the room again and in the open. He sauntered through the garden, making careful notes of everything. Accosted with a pleasant grin by the gardener, he shook hands quite cordially with the old retainer, from whom he shortly obtained many scraps of useful information. Then Lucy came running down the patb with a great shaggy sheep-dog at her heels, who, at her ■ instigation, made a perfunctory show of joy at sight of him, and the name of the dog, he learned, was Waggs. Then came a visit to the stables and a hearty reception from coachman and groom and even-stable boy awaited him there, and the i little bay mare, his own suppositious property, was duly paraded, but failed to whinny; as expected, at the sound of his voice, and her name, it seemed, was TTellle, and Dick admired her greatly, as well as the trap in which Harry Bishop had taken his last drive. There, too, he picked up much serviceable information, and he pleasantly reflected that his memory was returning apace. A few days of this, and he would become on quite a familiar footing with Beechwood Hall and all its ways. He returned to the garden again, and was examining a quaint old sundial, comparing with his watch the shadow thrown by the September sun, when lie heard a quick step on the gravel path. He looked -up, thinking it to be Kate,' and saw a telegraph messenger boy aproaehing. Some ineffable instinct, caused him to cry out': •'**-' • '■ ; • .A "Is that for me—Harry Bishop?" "Yes, sir," and the boy approached and delivered the message. "Any answer, sir?" Dick tore .open the envelope and read its contents with a troubled face. "Not now," Baid he. and the boy turned on-his heel and-walked-away. "I'd better malEe tracks at once," thought Dick. "It would be madness to run such a risk. He thinks I have stolen his girl. If he learns that I have stolen his name as well, the fat will be In t*ae fire." r ■ ' " This is what the telegram said— "A mysterious man from Australia, calling himself H. 8.. is in London making inquiries about Coralie and yourself. Verb. sap.—Fred Glover." (To be continued daily.)