Kate Melville's Courtship,

Auckland Star, Volume XL, Issue 51, 1 March 1909, Page 8

Kate Melville's Courtship,

By G. W. APPLETON. \®Ul Author of "The Lady in Sables," "Rash Conclusions," etc.);

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. !

Dick Conynghnm, who lias been mysteri- .. ously brought up by an aunt, finds himself pulned by the extravagance of his v "wife, an actress known as Coralie De Vere. - His wife leaves him to resume her part f on the srnge. Travelling by rail to see a friend about an appointment, he Is ' claimed by an old and wealthy gentlewoman 1 as her son, Harry Bishop, who disappeared . three years before. Nothing he can say , —and he Is strongly averse to playing the r role of Impostor—shakes her belief, his objections being met by tjie theory of t lapsed memory. Diet promises to visit - her at Beechwood Hall, and then con- , tlnues his Journey. He makes a compact ' with his friend, Fred Glover, that It shall 1 be rumoured that Dick Conyngham has I gone to Africa and died there. Dick re- . visits his flat, and finds a bundle of letters I belonging to Coralie. They are written i from Aiis'tralia by one Harry Bishop. He I learne 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 J Hall as Harry Bishop. Dick finds It useless to deny that he Is Harry Bishop and just as he is beginning to settle down at I Beechwood Hall as that person, he receives I a tel6gram from Fred Glover telling him that a man called Harry Bishop has come from Australia to London and Is enquiring concerning Coralie. Dick goes to London where Oswald Baird points out to him the Harry Bishop from Australia. Dick finds a photograph of the supposed aunt, who had brought him up, In Harry Bishop's room, bearing the Inscription, "To Harry from Auntie." He resolves to solve the mystery surrounding his Identity. CHAPTER XVll.—Continued. Mr. Caxton laughed again. '"Worry!" said he, "it's like that, is it? Well, tell him to cheer up, she isn't liicely to trouble him again for at least six months, unless she has gone raving mad, which is very unlikely." Oswald Baird thanked him and recrossed to Dick. "It's all right, just as I thought. Mr. Caxton laughs at the idea, and says that unless she is raving mad, you will not see her again for six months at least." "That's a bit of comfort, I am greatly obliged to you, old chap. But suppose she is raving mad." "In that case it would be known here. Jlr. Caxton tells mc she has made a big hit in .New York. No, no, you have no present cause for worry whatever. .Make your mind easy on that score." "And do you think, I want your advice on this, do you think that I may safely pospone telling the mater about my connection with the blessed woman?" "You don't want her to know?" "Not for worlds, if it can in any way be prevented. In short I don't want a soul in Bucks ever to hear of it. Nobody knows Dick Connyngham down there —It would be utter ruin if that great blaring creature were to carry out her threats, and burst in upon us. It would be better to square her, to keep her away—Anything—My God; Baird! The very thought of it is maddening. Oive mc some advice. What shall I do?"

Oswald Baird reflected for a moment, Then said he:

"I tell you straight Harrj', that if 1 were in your place, I should say nothing at home, the necessity for doing so, in my opinion, but remotely exists. You have evidently forgotten, an important factor in the affair so far as Coralie is concerned. Do you not recall our last interview and my suggestion that the other Harry Bishop may have a prior claim upon the person of the fair but troublesome creature? He was in hot pursuit of her in London. He left London for America still in hot pursuit of her. If they have reconciled their differences, you will never be molested by her—at least openly, for good reasons she will n-ever dare: but may possibly ■bless you on the quiet. Should they quarrel, however—you need never trouble yourself an instant about her. They have possibly met since she posted your letter. The result, in some form or another, will be known to you shortly. That much I confidently predict, the rest may seem rather cryptic to you. It is so, but we shall see what we shall see. Meanwhile, my boy, sit tight and keep your mouth shut if that be your wish. There is really no occasion for you to open it, and now, after this long speech, after rehearsal too, I am nearly gasping with thirst."

"So am I," said Dick. "Come next door and have a pint bottle, you were the liO3t on the last occasion if you remember."

The subject of their recent talk was not broached again. The bottle finished, Dick thanked his friend very heartily for his advice and at the door they parted. Dick hesitated for a moment, then referred to the memo Mrs. Bishop had given him and turned his feet in the direction of Somerset House. There he remained for a considerable time, searching bulky registers. Finding what he desired at last, the following entry in his note book beneath the other.

Born October 1877—Harry Bishop—son of Henry Bishop, Esq. by his wife Helen at Kenilworth House, Coventry, Warwickshire.

"Nothing like doing tilings methodically," said he, as he left the building. "And now for Coventry. I'll do that to-morrow. I ought to obtain some valuable information there. But where shall I go now?" and he paused a moment and thought, "I don't want to meet too many pals to-day and overdo things. In spite of Baird's reassurances, that letter of Coralie's has got horribly on my nerves."

Suddenly he espied a cab passing by and hailed it.

"Great Central Station," said he at once leaping in as it drove up to the kerb.

He drove into Amersham town in the station bus; had a brief chat with the landlord at the "Griffin," then walked over to the Hall. It was a glorious day in early October, the trees were still in full foliage with scarcely an autumnal tinge: the sun shone brilliantly on a turquoise sky. It was not a day for gloomy thoughts and .imagining, and Harry enjoyed the world thoroughly, arriving horn« at last in buoyant spirits. As he entered, a something on the hall-table at once arrested his attention. It was only a letter, but there seemed something strangely familiar about it. Its shape and colour gave him a sudden chill of apprehension and as he drew near enough to read the superscription, his buoyant spirits fell to zero. There had been something in his presentiments after all.

The letter was from Coralie.

CHAPTER XVIH. KATE HAS HEIR SUSPICIONS.

At that instant Mrs. Bishop came from the dining-room. "You are back earlier than I expected, Harry," said she, "so ara just in time for lunch." Then noticing that he was looking at the envelope ,on the ta-Me she quickly aAiaA:

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"Oh! yes. There is a letter for you from America, and in a -woman's handwriting. I never saw such a funny scrawl in my life. Have you? I>o you recognise it?"

Dick—we must call him Dick once more—pulled himself together with a. mighty effort, and with the courage of a man who handles a bomb with a hissing fuse attached to it, picked up the letter and critically surveyed it. "It seems somewhat familiar," said he. "But 1 don't suppose it ia of any consequence," and he shoved it into his pocket. To the feminine mind, such an action seemed incomprehensible, unless he were afraid to open it in her presence. Her next remark stung him: "Kate was here when it arrived," said she, "and got quite excited over it. '1 had no ir".ea that Harry had lady correspondents in America,' she saJd, and I dare say you will be severely cross-ex-amined when she meets you again." "What about? I have not read the letter myself yet. It is a begging one, I suppose. Where is Kate? I'll go and ease her mind at once," and he put on his hat again. "Surely." she said, "you •will have some luncheon first?" ""So, I had a little snack in town," which was a. lie, as you perceive, "and Kate mustn't got those stupid fancies into her head. lam very glad you told mc, Mater." "And I am very sorry I did," said Mrs. Bishop, crestfallen. "I am the last person in the world to cause strife."

"Strife!" and he laughed. "My dear Mater, disabuse yourself of that idea at

once. It is to avoid that, that I am going to see Kate. Suppose I tiand her the letter and tell her to open it?" "Oh, Harry, forgive mc! It is so foolish for old people to interfere in young people's love affairs, even in fun. I am so, so sorry." Hβ kissed her on the forehead. "Don't, , there is no cause. You have done mc a good turn, Mater. Kate and I nearly had a quarrel over this woman the other day," and lie took Coralie's letter from his pocket and held it up. "I made certain confessions—all young men commit follies at times, you "know that. But mine were not very serious. I told her that the woman in question—an actress —had gone to America with another man. That was true, she had cast mc off. Kate accepted my statement, and the episode ended in a kiss. To-day she sees a letter on the hall table in a woman's handwriting, from America, and directed to mc. What is her conclusion? That lam a liar. Now lam going down with this unopened letter to Kate. Am I right, Mater?" "Quite right, my boy; nothing- could be fairer, nothing more honest. Still, you forgive mc all the same, don't you? though I .begin to think with you, that in a way I have done you a service."

"You have, Mater, you have," said he

"a very great favour, indeed. I shali make Kate eat 'humble pie' very soon

I assure you, with this." and he waved Coralie's letter as lie left the house.

As the door closed behind him, Harry's countenance changed. He wonderevl how the devil he had gone through the ordeal. He made at once for the great clump of beech trees still in full leaf, and once there, looked cautiously about him, and pulled Coralie's letter from his pocket. He broke open the envelope, and read as follows.- —

"Dear Dick,—By this post lam sending you two letters. This one will astonish you, I know, and the other to your club, will explain things. You know yourself that you have treated mc

very shabbily; you even accepted £20, which I could ill spare, when I left London to try and earn some money for you. That was very cowardly— not to say, dirty. But never mind. What do they say? 'The wind-mills of the gods grind surely but slowly,' and you will see mc in your ancestral home a very few days after you receive this from

"Coralie Bishop." Harry took the other letter from his pocket and read that through again also. Then he tore the two into burnable pieces, wasted a whole box of matches, and at last reduced the pair of precious epistles to ashes beneath the greatest of the great beech trees, and then set out in quest of Kate.

He lound her at home. "Oh!" said she. "This is indeed a sur surprise."

"Is it?" he answered. "I thought pos sibly you might be expecting mc." "Dear mc! Why 1" "To explain." "Explain what? I really do not understand."

"You were at the 'Hall , this after noon?"

"Quite so." "And a letter arrived for mc while ou were there."

"That, too, is true." "Anu you saw it." "By accident, yes." "And perceived that it had been posted in America."

"One could not fail to observe that :act."

"And also that the address was in a woman's hand-writing." "That fact, too," said Kate, with emphasis, "was strikingly obvious." "Precisely, and so you jumped at once to a certain conclusion."

"I did, and a right one." "You thought it came from"—and he paused.

"From that horrid actress woman, Harry," said she—"and you cannot deny it."

"I do not deny it," he replied. "I have no motive for denying it. It was from her."

"And yet," said Kate with genuine feeling, "you told mc, and I was siliy enough to belive you—that that affair was all over—that it had been but a foolish episode, and she had gone to America with another man."

"Exactly," said he. "I do not retract a word I said. I told you the truth. I hate—l detest the woman—now more than ever for writing mc a brazenly impudent and insulting letter—and coming between us—a thing of which she really never dreamed."

__ "She has not done that, Harry," said Kate quietly. "I trust no woman can.

I dare say that you have been extremely foolish, and have done things of which you sincerely repent. But, as your affianced wife, there should be no half confidences between us, I accepted your explanation the other day without a single arriere pensee, and it did truly give mc a very great shock to-day to see a letter from that woman awaiting your arrival at home. You told mc that she only knew you as Dick Conyngham. Why does she address you as Harry Bishop, and how is it she knowe that you are living at the Hall?" <To be continued flail^.^