His Wife's People

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 194, 18 August 1931, Page 16

His Wife 's People

By ___________—-. FLORENCE BONE (Author cf " Red May, , " " Star* in the Smoke," etc)

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS,

"It was on the Thames Embankment

AXDY ROBB has an appointment at a coffee stall on the Thames Embankment to meet his cousin, GEORGE WESTOX, who is down on his luck and unemployed. Whilst George is waiting he notices a man walking with a graceful girl. The two pass a waiting motor car and the occupant gazes very hard at them. The incident interests George. Andy arrives and, over a meal, tells him that his firm ROBBS, LTD., have a vacancy for a clerk. George gladly accepts the post, though it is at a mill in the south of Scotland. Andy is engaged to be married and invites George to meet his fiancee, SHEILA JOSEPHINE LESTRAKGE DRAKE, -who lives with a friend, AN">"E STARKEr. Whilst Andy is having tea with Sheila in a restaurant, BERTHA MITCHELL sees them. On her return to Bellington Miss Mitchell tells MRS. JAMES ROBB, wife of Andy's partner, of the engagement. After Andy and Sheila iave been married some months, finance becomes difficult at the mill, and James Robb suggests that Sheila finds some money by way of a loan. To this Andy will not agree. To obtain evidence for a lawsuit in which Robbs may be involved, George Weston is sent to Edinburgh to search the old files of a newspaper. During his search Weston comes across the account of a murder trial In which the name of the accused person is Josephine Lestrange. Sheila receives a friendly but mysterious letter from Edinburgh signed "JOAN LESTER," asking for certain information about Bellington and its hotels. The next day Joan Lester arrives at Bellington and, "unknown to Sheila, sees her as she is calling on a friend. Sheila goes for a walk and meets Mrs. Lester, who has rented a furnished cottage from MRS. WEDDERBURN. Their conversation is overheard by MARION" ROBB, who decides to call on Mrs. Lester and endeavour to find out her connection with Sheila. An old tallboy left to Berfha Mitchell by a relative is lined with old newspapers, which attract her attention. Bertha Mitchell takes the old newspapers to Marion Robb. The papers contain an account of the Lestrange murder trial. Marion, after reading them, decides to confront Sheila with the particulars, and accuse her of being the daughter of Joan Lester.

CHAPTER XV. A Strange Disappearance. It was very warm and enug in Gay Traquair's sitting room. The house was ugly outside and the throb of the mills could be heard all the time, but George Weston rather liked that. It made the contrast with the warm room all in favour of Gay's house. She poured out strong tea, put cream into it, and handed George scones, brown bread and the chocolate cake he loved, for George had a eweet tooth. He didn't know yet what a good cook Gay was. He thought her a tender little plant who needed a strong man to lean on, and look after her. Gay Traquair had a lot of tough fibre. A man would soon find that if she loved him he might lean on her sometimes. Gay wanted badly to mother George Weston. There was a button hanging by a thread on his coat this afternoon. She did wish she might mend it. "Have you given up the idea of applying for that post in Edinburgh? 1, inquired Gay, when the tea was poured out. "Xot quite," said George. "I'm waiting until I'm sure it's vacant, and Robb's doesn't want me any longer. I'm not going to let Andy down. He was no end good to me." "But I want to know —do you like Edinburgh, Gay?" "I love the place. I just love to walk down Princes Street. I'm not very fond of Bellingion. "Then would you —I mean if —you see I'm not a fellow with a glib tongue, and I know you're well off, and " "I'm very lonely, George," Gay turned away her head to hide a tear, but George saw it. The room was very quiet on the winter afternoon. Gay was sitting on a low couch with the tea table before her. George got up, strode across the room, sat down on the cushioned seat, and took Gay Traquair into his arms. She sank there, feeling how big and safe and reliable he was. He was kissing her hard and fast, his mouth on hers, his breath coming quickly, all the passion of his heart and his nature in his touch, as he held Gay. She could feel his strong hands about her trembling body, as he held her closer and bent to kiss her hair, and her throat. Never had Gay Traquair hoped for such a moment, eo big with the thrill of bliss as this one. It was eo real—she could never think George Weston wanted her for her father's money. Suddenly there shot into her heart and mind the memory of the moment when they had met Joan Lester. Gay sat up, put her hands on George's shoulders, looked at him with shy but shining eyes, and said "I want to ask you something, George." "Ask me anything," cried George. He caught her to him again, and kissed her. "Oh, it's lovely—l love you to kiss me," murmured Gay. "But—" "But nothing —except—you've swept me off my feet. And I've got hardly anything to offer you." "You've got yourself," whispered Gay. "You do love me, little girl?" begged George his arm round her again, her small figure lost in his great clasp. "Oh —you don't know how much. That's why—l want to ask you—" "Yes, darling—" "Won't you tell me—what have you to do with that woman at Fir Tree Cottage ?" George was bewildered for a moment, and looked puzzled. "Oh, you mean Mrs. Lester," he said. "Nothing, dearie —is my lassie a bit jealous? Bless you—l don't even know the woman to speak to." "You don't —know her?" "Certainly not—" said George, stoutly. "She's good looking, but I don't take to her. I'd rather have you, jaj pet." George kissed her again. "But George —" They were sitting hand in hand, now, and Gay looked troubled. Whatever it meant she wanted George to tell her the truth. She said to herself that she wouldn't be hard cm him. "Hadn't you ever seen Mrs. Lester in your life before you came to Belliugton? When we met her the other day, near the golf course, didn't you say, under your breath, Tffowever did that woman get here ?'" "Great Scott! I may have done, darling—" said poor George. "She did take me by surprise, certainly. Drat that woman," he added, to himself. "Then how can you say you don't know her? Had you ever seen her in London V "Well —er —yes, I had —once." "Only once? When?" "Look her, Gay, darling," said George. "I can't explain the circumstances when I saw Mrs. Lester in London, because I don't know what they were. It was when I was down and out —"- "Oh, George—"

"George!" "And it hadn't anything to do with me. If there wae a secret —it wasn't my secret. That's all I can gay. I can't explain it because I don't know the explanation." '•'Was Sheila there?" demanded Gay, suddenly. George had never realised before tonight how damning circumstantial evidence could be. "As a matter of fact she was there," he said, honestly. "But she didn't knowshe was." "She wae there, and ehe didn't know she was?" cried Gay, in perplexity. "Oh, George, don't let's begin by deceiving each other. I thought you didn't know Sheila until you met her with Andy." "No more I did," said George. "And she says she didn't know Mrs. Lester until she saw her here. But Bertha Mitchell has found some papers "Oh, hang Bertha Mitchell," eaid George Wee ton. "Don't listen to her. She's an old cat." "I -wish she could hear you," Gay giggled, but looked anxious. "George, did you know that Mrs. Lester used to be Josephine Leatrange, a woman who was tried for murder twenty years ago, and Bertha is confident of it. So is Marion." If George swore under hie breath it was not surprising. He got to hie feet. His pleasant face looked almost drawn, and Gay took his expression for an acknowledgment that he already knew what she told him. Sudden light had dawned on GeoTge. Such a piece of information neatly fitted into the picture of the woman in the car on the Embankment, and the talk he had overheard in the dark. Gay rose to her feet, too. She held out her hand to George and he kissed it. Her eyes were full of tears. George would have taken her into his arms again, but Gay held him off. "I must think," she said. "I wish you'd tell me all you know." "Any odd tag of information that I possess isn't my own," said' George. He was not going to have the story of that night on the Embankment told to Bertha Mitchell, or to Marion Robb. He realised that he had, unconsciously, made things woree for Sheila, by saying she was there. He knew Bertha could get information out of Gay and as to Mrs. James—she had pumped George successfully on more than one occasion. George thought he would write to Simon Todd and tell him the whole thing. It wae time somebody did. "Gay—are you going to turn me down —after letting me kiss you?" begged George. "I don't know," said Gay, naughtily. She was enjoying her power over him. And she wae genuinely disturbed. • • • * . "And you tell me, Lfbby, that Mrs. Lester keeps firearms in her bedroom?" said Marion Robb in the kitchen of the "Old Anchor," where she had gone, ostensibly to pay a bill, but really to pump Libby about her employer. "Well, not to say fire-arms exactly," said Libby, calmly, knitting a sock. "But she's a rather strange lady. I don't think she ought to be there alone, at night." "Has she asked you to stay with her at night?" inquired Marion. "Losh, no, and I don't want to. I like to get back to the 'Anchor,' at dark. But it's a good place. She's easy to do for, and the pay's very good. Better than most, hereabouts." "I daresay she can afford to bribe you," said Marion. "Ye couldn't bribe me, Mrs. James," said Libby. "I've my pride. I'm sorry for the poor creater. I asked her hail she any kin and she said so sad-like that she hadn't. Then she began to talk about Mrs. Andrew —" "Indeed —what did ehe say?" Marion leaned forward, eagerly. "Oh, she said she reminded her of someone she used to know a long time ago. That was why she liked the lassie, she said, at first. And now she liked her because she was a sweet lassie —which she is." "Hmph!" eaid Marion. "But about the firearms—" "Oh aye, I was but sayin' to-day to Mrs. Mackay, that she had some strange playthings. But it's well for anyone alone at night to have a pistol, I suppose. I'm scared o' the thing myself. And she asked me to clean it. Anyhow, it wasn't loaded, I saw to that. But losh, it had wee jeweU set in it—who ever heard of a jewelled pistol?" "A jewelled pistol?" Marion's voice was almost awed. "No less —it's in a wee case, but not so small, for there's room for another beside it. Once the lady had a pair of 'em. She keeps it in a secret drawer in her desk, but she showed me the drawer. She's a friendly soul. I like her well except when she turns her great sad eyes on me. I think she's known trouble." "Oh, probably—are you going up there again to-day, Libby?" aeked Mrs. James Robb. Libby nodded rather shortly. "I'll walk up with you. I want to see Mrs. Lester," said Marion. She considered she had sufficient evidence now to condemn Joan Lester, and accuse her of being Josephine Leetiaugt and the mother of Sheila. "And if that girl won't ask hnr for money, I will," said Marion to herself. She waited for Libby Duff, and they went up the hill together. Marion was not quite sure, herself, why she had decided to go to Fir Tree Cottage while Libby was there. She would have scoffed at the notion that she was not without some qualms of fear at the thought of the jewelled pistol—probably the pair t< the one which had once shot Josephine's husband. Rowans looked deserted as they passed. Andy and Sheila were in Edinburgh. Smoke went up from the Manse chimney. Meg Wedderburn must be back. But Fir Tree Cottage had a desolate air. No firelight or lamplight shone from the window. Libby went round to the back door with her key, and Marion strolled to the front. Xobody seemed to be in the sitting room. Presently, Libby threw open the door. In her hand was a ecrap of paper. "Found this on the kitchen table," she said. "Mrs. Lester's gone." (To be continued daily.) Parents should realise that In nine cases out of ten the cause or nose-picking in children is not bad manners but worms. To ensure the good Health or your family, irive them a Wade's chocolate-coated tablet lay once a month. AJ all chaailsts.—(Ad.)