MY LADY.

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 60, 12 March 1926, Page 14

MY LADY.

By EDGAR WAIXACE

Author of "The Four just "Tfi^

Secret House." etc., 4tc

CEATTER.t^IiI.

John ATorlay could, it seemed, produce- as' a conjufer- produces from a bag the most amazingly useful cqmxnoditifes. He had a Lady Per£liam,* the wife of aii Under-SecrdttCry of St&g. A niost accommodaing cousin was this" lady in the days" of crisis 'Fefofe and after the : friquest.

Marie found a new friend and.a surprisingly beautiful home. If she saw lass of her guardian than she could have wished, she saw nothing at all of Mrs. Carawood.

Once or twice John brought from the stricken woman a note. Once she sent money for the girl's immediate neces-

"But I ought to be ■with her—it was a dreadful experience for my poor darling," she protested.

She had read an account of the tragedy in the newspapers and her own letters to Mrs. Carawood had been voluminous.

"She wants you to keep away from the shop," he explained. "Her one fear is that your name will be, in some way, associated with 72, Penton Street, and I think that is her only trouble."

"But who was' this wretched man?" asked Marie with vnconscious brutality, "and why couldn't he find somewhere else to die?"

John Morlay did riot answer. There was a greater tragedy here than he had ever expected to find in real life. She was soothed by the explanation and was content to accompany him on little excursions. Once they went on the river to test-out, the new" motor launch (the first opportunity tie had had of seeing Ids purchase) and this time Lady Pertham did not accompany them. It was a glorious summer day; no c!6ud broke the 'blue of the e"ky And as they passed slowly against the tide from lock to lock the girl, stretched in the well of the boat on a~heap of cushions, was very silent. ' ' . " " Green lawns, gay with flowers, ancient gardens with their clipped yews and trailing roses, white palace 3 and gay ■. bungalows slipped past them. West of Hainbiedon Lock, John turned i the nose of tile Munch to a letffy backj water and brought the boat to the bank. I "If you took a course in domestic economy, prepare to prove it now," he i said as\he lifted out a big hamper and laid it on the grass. ! "1 can make tea—if that is what you mean," she said. She was still very grave, he thought, and wondered why. 'TTbti are worrying about your nanriief , - V • She sfiopt Her Heaff. \. .j, "No—l am wondering about myself. ' I've got—what Wai it yoiir cousin called [it— a new angle to life." „ -^>. j "That sounds frightfully impressive." he smiled watching, her struggle /with a patent oil stove. "11l light that for you." But she .waved aside his offer assistance. The cupiand plates haidfoeen washed "in the fiver, hamper re-J-packcd and fie was lying?, on.-the graesV a cigarette 'between* his lips, when, ..abruptly, she- came bjick, to the , subject. 'TnTlike a v rivef-^-* ? C ;"; ; l ' ' "A fresh and sparkUiig brook," he murmured. "Anything that has teen funning on without a thought of its' destination," said Marie soberly. ~;..,-. "And now you're coming to the sea t" She shook her head. a sort of desert where I disappear." • - ; . "Or Sissip'ate. ; Andwher£. do tfesse melancholy notions come from?" I suggest that your young digestion is out. of She sat .up suddenly. "John, Fni a beggar!" she jjaid dramatically, and: he turned his head sharply toward her. "Why do you say that?" 'Tm a beggar —a poverty-stricken countess.. I have no money, ana I never had. money." He sat np in turn. "Why ._ you think so ?" he asked. She shook her head. ; "It Has come to me—a sort of inspiration. I woke up last night and realised it. John, I want you to tell ine tite truth." He tried to fence, but failed, as lie knew.' "I am not in Mrs- Carawood's confidence—" . : "I don't care whether you ire, or whether you're; not," she insisted, "you know. John Mprley, will you tell ine the truth?" He was silent. "ian IMch or poor?" John drew a long breath. "You're not rich," he said.. "And all the good things I iaye Said —Mrs. Carawood gave theni to ine?" He nodded and; he saw her face soften anSt the eyes grow te&ier. "The darling—thjS flear, , unselfish darling," she was biting fier lip to keep tears, arid for a I6ne time neither spoke. * "What must. I dp no*, John ? j etin'i live on must work; What a silly little fool Jijwjkt iiot to iKink. of this . .'Andi hive had glimmerings of intelligence ... .. .iueptJofin, •irhat am i to do?" .;Hitvpice sounded arid unreal to hjmseli when Ke answered: 'CSTpu mist get niarnea; Marie" She;.loqted at him startle 4. . ms&. ■- Md there ?^there e S Mart saiik. , " T rinfortunate," he said an A,fe ß wor ds seemed ridiculously commonplace. "I hoped—" She turned her eyes upon Hs, and for a second he saw wonder and doubt "I used to think that people who'fell attention of S, medical' specialist ,» he .said "and that people wno the age were heading for destruction. I *c. changed ray view. , ?- Mi looking; at the* river;. eeemingly absorbed in a tog 6f _. driftwood that had floated into the backwater. 'Tit isn't fair to expect a girl who has ff picture of Prince' Channirig in her heart tii-Jtfe satisfied with* dry as fluefr siibstituteS, is it?" r .. . She shook her heafl. ;/

". 1.-don't know; I haye never harboured a Prince but H I had; ". - ffi, waited, _ hM Jie ~ very nice. Rather tall and stern looking and BiIMM weit Sfii |nd iX&c&al. huL she aid nof 3raw away. And {Ben £18 arm went about her slim figure and the golden Jw*4 tuvnA U*wifs to chafe

CHAPTER XXIV There was an air of festivity in i Penton Street. Though its womanKind hid been denied a View of the bride, Save those, and they were*,many, who had made the journey tc> \ St. , -Asaph's, the, wedding rightly; belonged' to the j street. t , i''^" -1

'. Mil. Fanner, strolling hqmeward with Herman, had a sen^*'of "infpbiflance as was" natural in one intimately a'slsoCia'ted with, the events" which had led" to the perfect culmination. He was attired:.magnificently, and even if bright brown hoots do not accord: with a" shining , silk h&t. . Herman, _ uncomfortably respectable .himself, thought He' Ka"d never ' seen Mr. Fehner looking so. gentlemanly, j

This employer of labour had given his mien a day's holiday on full pay. They had refused the holiday on half pay, and there had been some unseemly haggling. But the matter had been settled to the satisfaction Of all, and as lie strutted past the closed gates of his " yard" he could afford the royal glow of power which enveloped him. They turned into the shop through the side-; door. Mr. Fehner took off his hat, and putting it carefully down surveyed it for a long time.

Herman looked at the ragged cigar he was endeavouring to smoke and threw it into the fireplace.

"Well. Herman," said Fenner, oracu- I larly. "We're getting into society. An inquest and a wedding in a fortnight. Don't you like that cigar? Try one of mine." |

" This is one of yours," said Herman J unpleasantly, " that's what I cqmplain j about." ■ I

"That inquest is going to be a mystery to mc for sonic time," said Mil Fenner in his profoiiridest manner. "I was talking to a colleague of mine at a meeting of the Master Builders' Federation, and he said it licked him."

"I don't see any mystery about it," Herman's voice was strange and irritr able. " The chap was a thief and had been discharged from Dartmoor, and lie must have sneaked, in here . after we'd all gone to bed. I found him in the morning." I

Fenner was not convinced,

"But why here?" he demanded.

" If he's got to go and die, why not anywhere. The shop door was left unfastened, arid he must have found it ajar. And Mr. Tenner, don't talk about it. 1 am trying to forget it, if I can."

He pulled from his pocket a shining gold watch and examined it lovingly.

"What's that, Herman?"

Mr. Fetinef was ciirioiis. ".A watch... M'lady gave it to mc," said the proud Herman. 4

"Gave it to you? To-day?" incredu-

louslv.

"Yes. It's a wedding present," said Herman. " The first one I've ever had. Ain't it a grand thing? It's twentyseven and a-half minutes past four— now it's twenty-eight minutes. I never knew that time was so exact. Didn't she look lovely, Mr. Fenner?" He clicked his lips in an ecstasy of admiration. " I wouldn't have missed that wedding for the world."

" Did you see mc talking to Lord Pertham?"

''That bald-headed bloke?" said Herman interested. " Was he a lord ?"

" Can't you tell a lord when you see one?" Mr Fenner was reproachful. " There's something nhcut a lord that's —well, he's 'different I"

"Oh, I remember," Herman nodded, "the bloke with a white shirt* Big fat fellow?"

Mr. Fenner closed his eyes. : "That was the butler," he said resignedly. Herman recalled guiltily that he had shaken hands with this magnificent fellow. . ...

"Yes,. Lord Pertham and mc had, a bit of a talk about the prevailing condition of, the labour market," said Fenner with relish. .-. "Would you believe it, his lordship has been obliged to give up building on his'estate it 'Ighgate '111 because of the wiy tfiem,builders are going on? . It, requires legislation, Herman." ... "Does it? Well, I suppose you're right. My word, -whit an. awful lot of long words you know, Mr. Fenner!"

"I know one or two," said Fenner com- j placently.

Herman, was bntie point of asking him why he did ii(}t go into Parliament •when an unexpected apparition took his breath away. It wa? ; Mr. Julian Lester, immaculate, infinitely self-possessed. The scowlsVthat met Mm were mildly amusing. _ v ''Good morning. Is Mrs. Carawood in?"

Herman regarded him suspiciously. "Here, eir, you ain't come here to make any, ifouble hive you?" ''fiecause if you liave —" began Mr. Fenner fiercely. Juliaft ehdok hie head. ,"No no; .Far from it. I've just come to.explain_how.'my mistake arose." "About miady?" asked Herman.

Julian. nodded again. Ordinarily he could not hive brought himself to discuss suchjmattefsHjHth a servant, but the circumstances were peculiar. 'You see, I've just discovered that the Countes£ Fioli, who died at Bourne mouth, and whose money, by-the-way, was found, hid. no children, so "it couldn't tiave been our Countess Fioli. You know in itely these titles are duplicated and triplicated,, and quadruplicated." Hermani blinkked.

.."Tell Mr.'Fenner, sir," he said. "Words like,them are/meat and drink to him." ~ "S6 I thought I'd come along and see lire. Carawood. On a day like this, when everybody is happy, I would not like.to leave an unpleasant memory. I wrote to her last night. Did she eet mv letter?" . ■ . 3

"She got a lot. of letters this morning " said Herman. ' a

A car had pulled up at the door, and through the window of the shop Julian saw Mrs. Carawood alight. She looked surprisingly attractive, he thought. It wan as though tho rangic hand of nature had smoothed every line from her face She stopped dond at the sight of him her eyes fixed on his.

t i Foh ? l J I, li ß b . con BUch a S° od frien d that I shouldn't hko the least ill-feeling to exist between myself and a lady for whom he has such an admiration," said Julian, and offered his hand, which after a second's hesitation, she took. ' "Well, there's none, Mr. Lester. I ffo t your letter, and thank you for it You re going away too, aren't you?" "Yes—then I'm forgiven?" , "God bless you, sir. I B hould forgive you if you'd cold mc a ton of moths " tttemjd good-humouredly, and went out with him into the street. They stood talking earnestly for a long time, Fenncr'B jealous eyes upon them Presently she came back

saW, "Did you enjoy yourself, Fenner?" Mr. Feaner indicated hi a gracious approval. . : I 'It was very neat," Jie said. "Art and taste everywhere TJiat's wliat I noticed Bgeakmg as a profeeeional joiner, art and taste." : "I Baw3thelart, but I didn't so much as nibble a sandwich," Mrs. CaraVood I shook her head. "It would have choked jme." r Li. w,'ij!a.