JUSTICE AT LAST

Auckland Star, Volume XLIII, Issue 73, 25 March 1912, Page 10

JUSTICE AT LAST

BT EJ3GAII PICKERING.

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

(Author of "Dick BoresTord's Wife," "The Sign of Secrecy," "Madame Lorraine's Revenge," "The Vanishing of

Gerirgo Bartram," etc.)

CHAPTER Xlll.—(Continued.)

It wns an apartment 'that overlooked the μ-srden, and an oriel window formed -a snug rctwat when-, one could sit un--8.-en behind the faded curtains, and that :afturniK<ii Hick had cnsi-oni-ud himself there, thinking of a good many things. lie had returned to the house half an hour iu:o. and kopt himself alone aince arriving '.he previous night. He was goinp back to London by an evening train, and was determined if possible to evade any encounter with his step-mother during hi* short stay nt lHackstone. Even Kitty did not know of his coming, but ho meant tn .spend an hour with her presently—he would have v talk with Miss Williams then, and the proepect brought a thrill of pleasure. It was of Cynthia he thought :i s he gazed from 'the window •amid the Hilence; ho thought of her beautiful fare, ami sweetly toned voice; of the pathetic look in her eyc.s which ho had noticed ouce or twice and pitied her for.

'The}' say *pity is akin to love'" he muttered, "and' I could love Cynthia with all my honrt and soul if slu?'d let mc 1 Jo love her, but a penniless artist hasn't any right to condemn a womali to sliu.ro his lot—ft wouldn't bo just tj her or himself, yet 1 love her nil the snmc. And thafi a very good reason for keeping clear of tbo place."

Ilia thoughts wore suddenly disturbod by a sound which caused him to pull the curtains asido to see Cynthia, who had entered the room, unaware of his presence, iliii£ liprwlf into a chair fobbing as though her heart were breaking. Her faro was hidden and he stood irresolute, tho sight of her weeping scwiul to full and tender as a woman's swelled up in his breast, and an overpowering longing to tako her in his arras, so that «he might know the strength and meaning of his comforting ar.d protection—an impulse so fiercely resisted as to r"score him to his calmness. Ue had crossed the room to where Cynthia sat, but h<. , would not allow himself too closely to her. She hud started to her feet as il unexpected presence alarmed her, and Bick misunderstood her action. If lie had only known tho sudden revulsion of her feelings from despair and lielplessness to the joy of seeing one whom she knew would help ami defend her, whose righteous anger would be aroused on her behalf, whose strength and resolute will were rrady to do tier service, all this was swiftly realised for the first time. und had" he read her panting heart he would not have held back tlu words which gathered to h-is lipe. Those that took their place sounded very inadequate and trite.

'You're in trouble." he said, knowing he spoke harshly. ''It> there any way that 1 can help you? 1 hate to see you crying. Have you had bad news?"

Cynthia restrained a little sob, but fshe saw him through a veil of tears, that added a beauty to her, as if a saint, to Dirk's artistic oven. Her voice had a patlws which made Jud-bcart throb wild-' jy, and then sho recovered her ordinary manner. "It isn't that." she answered. "I'm sorry you heard mc. 1 thought T was alone. Xo. 1 haven't had bad news." "I've no right to ask you why you were crying, but 1 can guess, the reason," he went on. "1 know what you've euffpr**<l sincp yon came here—l Know from ! my own experience. It's a cruel thing to take advantage, as Mrs. Curtis does, of your position. Why do you stop with her?" '"Because, for one thing, that I love Kitty as if she -rere my own sister." "I can understand." "Kitty isn't so very much younger tlian I am", and her love is all the world to mc, Mr. Curtis. You don't understand —who can understand—what it is not to have a friend, or" anybody to advise and help you, come what may. To be alone, as I am. without a home, or place of refupe, if I leave here." There was in Dick's look which caused her to turn avay from him, and her voice had regained somewhat of the recklessness that, to a. alight degree, had marked her manner from the moment when her father's crime was betrayed. "1 thought I didut care—l've no right to care—to be considered other than I am. 1 don't complain, only sometimes it Is hard to hear, and I can't forget." -

"We've all things to remember," replied Dick, rather hopelessly. "I- ahafr reinr-mber what you have told mc. 'jfinft' it possible ihat I may he able to make' your life Pa sier—to do something to lighten it? Will you try and think of mc as a friend?" and he held out his hands.

There are thinga more eloquent than words, and a.s Cynthia felt the pleasure Of his firm grasp, though it was only for an instant, she knew that he loved her. That she would be contont to trust het Kfe and happiness in his keeping, and be in that keeping safe for ever, that a love which had a pride in this strength of arm and ruggedness of face, wherein love found more than outward comeliness was crying in her breast for utterance and with it the knowledge that to own her lovp would dr.ig him down to her own level—the level of disgrace in which he would have to sharo,and she moved to the window dreading herself, leaving Dick to misconstrue her action for the .second time.

_ "I'd stay on," lie said "if T thought 1 should be of nny assistance, but you sec what I have to put up with 'when I enroe, I can put up with it—Mrs. Curtia amtiKCH mc at times, and there's always Kitty."

"it's for Kitty's pake that I'm stoppiii" here," rrpl:;-d Oynthia, without turning to him, uml i!r;n his ionvpr;;atior. ended ewtrwardjy, for neither she. nor ho f ;!t computer! to continue it. Cynlnia was alone when ahc, camo from tho -.vindoy, feeling n desolation l.hat was uifjhrent and sirunijfM from her former loneliness, as ai!G returned from the schoolroom.

KHly crept Into it on tip-too Heme time u'u.v I'ynthl.i had be.en sitting their, iiril Llio blue eyva sparkled with a glean: of merriment, in she. camo to ne.stle Juvlngly In Cynthia's lap.

"Is Hie heart better?" ''Oil, I've forpntten that," replied Ki'Ay. "It wasn't very bad, Mothei gav-8 Jiiß noma atnfV. I've Been Die!.—hn V<un'l> o u ' n => he iias. Shall 1 tell

ynuj" "Nil tales out of school. Kit, remember. Thai isn't fair," xmd Oyiithla began a fairy story. "I'm not- listening," interrupted Kitty. "I'm recollecting. Mother and Dick had a row."

•f-Fd ratber-net heer."

"About you it was," continued Kitty, with sublime deafness to the warning "Dick was fearfully angry with mother. He said she treated you badly—co she does, because. I've heard.her sometimes— Dick said it was cruel of her—he said that twice, and the second time he need a bnd word."

"I forbid you to say anything more, Kitty, exclaimed Cynthia sternly. "It was "wrong of you to listen, and it's wrong of you to carry tales. Ladies never do."

"But I'm not a lady," answered Kitty, "and I couldn't help hearing. And I think Dick's awful brave to stick up for you. Do yon mind if I say what Dick"said?" Just forlonce he said it was cruel —dam cruel. There!"

Cynthia was silent with a crowd of Ithpiights rioting through iher brain. Yes, it was brave of Dick to speak up for her, and she pictured his indignation when ho had done so.

"You're not angry, aro you?" whispered Litty, her golden tresses laid against Cynthia's cheek.

""No. Why should I be angry? You'll have to promise that you'll never tot anyone about what you've heard. Never. ''

"Kiss mc." Cynthia bimt down over the rosy lips and Kitty gave v sigh of satisfaction.

"I won't ever talk about Dick again, now," she said. "But I'm wondering why you don't like him. He's the best brother in all the world."

From the schoolroom window the road leading to the house could bo seen, and presently Kitty, during the progress of the fairy talc interrupted Cynthia:

'There's a teletrraph boy coming," shfr exclaimed. "They make daddy so wild, sometimes. Tie jumped o:i a telegram oni-o in thn hall—l saw him do it. Ami Leo's walking about by himself. Hβ hates boys. I'll go and catch him, please, Miss Williams."

The child had vanished like a sprite, and Cynthia bepnn to tidy the littered table. She was thinking of that interview between Dick and his stepmothor, and the probability of Mrs. Curtis dismissing her abruptly in consequence of it. And then Kitty ramo running to the room waving a telegram.

"It's for you," she cried. "Aren't yon glad 1"

Cynthia opened tho envelope and Tvad the messapt , - the curt words that. brought a wailing cry from her, and the paper fluttered to the ground unheeded CHAPTER XIV. MliiS. M Et-KOUB. Influenced by strict business principles Mr. Alo.ss had withheld hie lund, »ikl ovbu <ft>ue as far as to give ilrs. Mnlferd some small additional fbiunci&l assistance instead of seizing and gelling lhe furniture and effects ol No. 13, Warwick Crescent. lit- and she had not yet discovered the rightful heir lo the Wynn estates, and to eaipjoy a lawyer at this stage of the affair was equivalent, as Mr. Mohs termed it, to "giving themselves away. , "We must work the tiling out quietly," eaid he, in reply to something Mrs. Melford had asked, a* she sat in liv oflico one morning. "Tho facts are clear enough to a certain point, and we'ro starting from that. This man Desmond —otherwise Sir George Wynn—is keeping out of the way, and km daughter has disappeared entirely, it seejns. The pity its that you didn't wait a bit, but you women are so impetuous."

"I was goaded into speaking out; into denouncing Desmond," replied Mrs. Melford. "Just think how I had bjen treated,. He had promised to marry mc, find I would have been a rich woman, if Cynthia Desmond—bah! I hate to mention her name, nven—had not stepped between us mid thwarted all jny plans. I never intnnded that she should have known her father was a fraud and a thiei, and everything was going on wmoothly until the time George Martin was murdered. Then it looked oa if Desmond held off his bargain, and wo had a scene in the house, that I've described already.' .

"Yes. 1 was really Interested In it Desmond collapsed, and his daughter ordered you out of the house. She stayed in herself, although ehe'd no more right to it than you had—stopped until her father was fit to travel und then vanished. I suppose there was he-ipa ol talk, but no one has gueiwed what had happened, and everything is at a standstill until the owner of the property ie found," remarked Mr. Mose.

"Martin told mc that the true heir to the estates lived in England," replied Mrs. Melford. "He had found that ont and more. Naturally, because he wanted tju> facts in order to blackmail Desmond. ■esc nape™ Martin told mc he had jjave important details of the case."

"And Martin either lost them or left them in some place where he was lodging, and so as good'ae lost; but perhaps he threw out a hint as to the, connections of the Wyiin family?" suggested Mr. Moss with a eatisfactory recollection of what he had heard from ■Trevor, ■wiieh he roennt to keep for his own irse, unlcnowrt to Mrs. Melford.

"No," slie urwwered, and on her own ]>art felt equal praiitudo that George Martin had given the name of eomebody who might very possibly unravel the truth about the Wynn succession, that was a complicated puzzle. And until she and Mr. Mosh camo to a definite agreement—until she was sura of the sura of money he ■would ehaTe with her, Mrs. Melford meant to hold her tongue to him. As a matter of fact, Martin Kid mentioned the name of one of Mre. Mcl ford's intimate acquaintances, who rulous, inquisitive, scandalising -old woman, who knew the genealogy "f a score of coun-ty families, and had thoi' on the tip of her tongue—a Lady Woodville, from whom at that moment Mr«. Melford had a pressing invitation ,n her pocket, to pay a visit, to her old friend.

"When snail you Ik; t>ack in Town?" aekei Mr. Moas, aftor Mra. Melford had told him she was going away. There's no hurry, and 111 see what I can do meanwhile to put the affair in working order. This Dee-nond wor. t ihow again I should say—daren't, and his daaighter*R not likely to."

"If xhv i would expose her in pub!it\f erdaimed Sirs. Melford. "That would be at least part of my revenge. Think what I owe iicri It was slie who influenced her rather to throw mc orer at tho List moment. Don't yon think I've a. good reason for hatiflij h.ir?" "Women never want fnr reason*, i<s they call them," hn ro»l!"d. "when they've an object to gain. "Wlmt earthly ffood will you do by that! Mure harm, I should say,"

I "Don't yon think It will bo gond in I m>o Oynthln Desmond humbled to the ' dust?" oxeialmed Mrs, Melforrl, a look j of diabolical furj' diatortlnp; hei fair j fneo, "To huve her cvlnjjlng for r'ty tit ' my tent) .to hear her weeplnpr, iu;d to j spurn her na I would spnrn the vilest creature Jij. JU>Jidon Oh, j-oii don't' aTronmn'fi , hate Their: Mr. Moss, or yoS wouldn't wonder r wlat I Bfiy,"

"Well, bd long as you rlon't <lo an\ j tiling fl»at might spoil Lite game, yoi; lean jiease ynuwelf," yepjied Mr, Moss. [

"Good-t>ye. When are you going down to this place—Blackstone Hall, isn't it?" "An awfully out of the way place," Mrs. Melford told him. 'Tm going tomorrow.

Only the hope cf gaining some information from Lady Woodville would have induced Mrs. Melford to leave London, and undertake a wearieome journey into the country. Blackstone Hall, which stood some two miles from Blackatone

Manor, was a dull house moreover for Lady Woodville was too old to entertain, and her son, the present holder of the title, came 'acre but rarely. His mother was surprised at the length of the visit he was paying her, because formerly he had described Blacks tone Hall ac the family tomb, and he objected to being buried alive. "Gerard has been with mc nearly two months," said Lady Woodville, as eho and Mrs. Melford were at luncheon the day following the arrival of the latter at the Hall. ''The dear fellow always hurried back to London or Paris as soon as he could decently, but he's staying on now. You were asking if 1 knew anything of the Wynti family, weren't you? Well, Sir Mirhapl married twice, and 'pon my word 1 don't believe he was cer tain his lirst wife was Head. She left him —'the.ro was a Colonel Sonark orsomo such name —they went oIT 'together, an.l she died, or was said to have died, in Italy. Anyhow, Sir Michael inarriod again—an actress, if you'll believe mo, There wns a long dispute about the succession in Sir Hey.is Wynn's time—lliafs a hundred \enrs ago «<» ' don't rem.iirber it," and the old woman cackled. "Tli<-y"rn all tod —the Raronet Wyuns they always were. Wbnt'e this 1 hear nl»ot:t the present baronet? Disappeared they say."

They rambled on thus, but -Mrs. Melford pnthered no information to bo of fiurvice to her, and lum-heon ending, Ivedy Woodville's lumbering old chariot drow up at the house to take her and her visitor to an ninbling drive. (To be eontinue<! <Jaily.)