DEAD MAN'S MANOR

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 250, 22 October 1935, Page 19

DEAD MAN'S MANOR

READ THIS MOVING STORY OF A SURPRISING INHERITANCE.

CHAPTER IX. "I Don't Like Mr. Stokes!" It was with some reluctance that Roderick Masters agreed to spend a few days at the manor at Merrill's invitation.

The wound of disappointment was too recent to permit of its being healed quite so quickly, and he felt that actually to stay at the manor would not help forward the recovery. Yet the girl had been so insistent about it.

Besides, there was something aboxit her that was attractively dynamic. He had noticed that from the first moment they had met. Then, too, she was utterly different from what he had imagined her to be the moment the truth had been broken to him in Mr. Milvern's office. "A housekeeper-companion," Mr. Milvern had said, and at once he had visualised a woman of fifty, amplebosomed, and with spectacles perched on the end of a long, thin nose. This girl didn't answer the description in the slightest. She was the antithesis of his fleeting imaginings, and she intrigued

The arrival of Roderick Masters, of course, did not pass unnoticed by Mr. and Mrs. Jennings. There had been an introduction at lunch, and when Merrill mentioned that Roderick was Richard Stokes' nephew from South Africa, Mr. Jennings fairly bristled. He scented a new danger. Since his discovery early that morning, when ho had found Carol Stokes endeavouring to fob off probably worthless shares 011 Merrill, he liad been more on his guard altogether, and after breakfast he had mentioned the matter to Mrs. Jennings, who was equally indignant, and applauded the firm stand he had taken, despite Merrill's protestations.

Now, Mr. Jennings saw the vultures gathering, although ho had to admit that Roderick Masters was not in the least like his cousin if appearances were any guide. But Mr. Jennings recollected with a feeling of chagrin that Carol, too, had seemed impressive in his sight on first introduction. In Mr. Jennings' mind there was now no doubt whatsoever that Merrill needed the protection that only ho could give her, and, during lunch, ho was wondering what Mr. Masters' particular "line" was, and how soon it would be before he was endeavouring to get his fingers on the girl's fortune.

Determined to find out, Mr. Jennings adopted Mr. Carol's preliminary tactics and, finding Roderick out on the lawn surveying appreciatively the ancient facade of the manor, he strolled across to him.

"I can see you appreciate the real tiling, Mr. Masters," began Mr. Jennings in dulcet and complimentary tones. "It's a£ fine an old place as ever I did see, a.nd I've knocked about a bit in my time." "It's beautiful," breathed Roderick, scarcely listening to Mr. Jennings. "The more I see of Leybourne Manor, the more I like it," lie added, sincerely. "Yes, I. reckon Merrill's a lucky girl," vouchsafed Mr. Jennings. "I wonder if she appreciates the place as much as you do, Mr. Masters." "I think she does," Roderick told him. "I think she possesses a deep artistic sense." Mr. Jennings was not bent on a discussion on aesthetics. He wanted information. "Will you be staying down here long?" he inquired. "Can't say," Roderick told him. "I'd like to meet my cousin. You sec I've never yet met him."

"Never met him?" Mr. Jennings thought this incredible. "Look here, Sir. Masters, I'm a man accustomed to plain speaking. I don't like Mr. Stokes. J'vc a suspicion that he's out for mischief, and if I were you I'd be careful. Only this morning I caught him trying to wheedle a few thousand pounds out of Merrill as an investment in some shares —gold shares, so he said."

At the mention of gold Roderick stiffened visibly.

Gold shares did you say, Mr. Jen nings?"

Mr. Jennings nodded. "Yes, Randikes he called them."

Roderick stared hard at the little man beside him, then he shook his head with decision. "No, it couldn't have been that," ho said, firmly. "You must have been mistaken."

"He called 'em Randikes," persisted Mr. Jennings, who hated to be contradicted by anyone.

Then the younger, man began to laugh. It was a hollow, mirthless laugh that surprised Mr. Jennings considerably.

"You know, Mr. Jennings," he went on, "that's almost too funny. It just couldn't have been Randikes, because I've just returned from South Africa after losing a small fortune in gold mines, and Randikes was one of them."

j Mr. Jennings could scarcely believe' his ears. This was information indeed. So Mr. Masters had returned home practically penniless after losing his money. That was interesting . . . very interesting indeed. And Randikes had certainly heen tho name of the shares that Cfirol Stokes had been mentioning to Merrill. That was interesting, too. so interesting that he felt like patting himself on tho back for his own perspicacity. But he had 110 intention of "giving tho game away" just yet.

By Graham Yorke,

Author or " The Deputy Avenger," "Tlie Jacle ToKen," etc.

"Perhaps I did misunderstand," Mr. Jennings conceded magnanimously, "all the same you must agree with me that Merrill ought not to dabble in things she obviously knows nothing- about?' "Most certainly I agree with you, Mr. Jennings. Perhaps I'd better mention to her my experience of gold shares." Mr. Jennings was all of a flutter. "No, you'd better leave this to me," he advised. "You see, I know so much more about it." "You mean about stocks and shares?" inquired Roderick, suddenly disturbed in his mind at the turn in the conversation. "I was referring to the incident this morning," announced Mr. Jennings. "I'll have a talk with Merrill about it later before Mr. Stokes telephones her." "I think I'll go and hunt out Miss Grenfieldj" suggested Roderick, suddenly. "You'll excuse me, won't you. "Of course," agreed Mr. Jennings, "but not a word about what I've told you, Mr. Masters." "Not a word," promised Roderick as he turned back to the house. Roderick found Merrill busy with her accounts, and apologised for his intrusion. "I've just finished," smiled the girl, "there's quite a lot of work up here," she added, by way of explanation, "but I like it, and that's something." "I'd like to have another talk with you if I may," suggested Roderick. "Do you mind if we stay in here?" Merrill agreed. She, too, felt that the sooner Roderick Masters understood just how sho felt towards him, the better it would be. "Wo won't be disturbed in here," she told him. "Uncle Jennings will probably be fussing around somewhere else." "I've just been having a chat with him," remarked Roderick. "I rather like him. He seems to have splendid intentions."

Merrill made a wry face. "You do, do you? Well I'm not so sure. In the past few days, Mr. Masters, I've grown to lie suspicious of everyone. I haven't sorted everything out just yet, but one of these days I hope I shall. But what was it you wanted to talk about? I don't want to be thanked any more for asking you to stay up here if you don't mind."

Roderick sank down into the soft upholstery of a chajr and regarded the girl with interest. Yes, she was certainly an unusual type; rather different from many of the other young women he had known. She had character . . . a definite character. "I was wondering," he began, "if you'd care to tell me something about my uncle. You see he and I got on so very well together during the few days I spent here before going abroad and I always imagined there was a definite bond of sympathy between us. In many ways he was very like my mother . . .

his sister, you know."

Fires of Anger. Merrill avoided his keen gaze and toyed with a sheaf of papers on the table in front of her. "What exactly do you wish to know?" she inquired. "Well, first of all, I'd feel relieved in my mind if you'd toll me whether he ever mentioned me to you." "He certainly did, Mr. Masters," said Merrill, tersely. "There were occasions when ho talked about you a great deal. I'm afraid, however, I can't recount the conversation verbatim because Mr. Stokes was rather uncomplimentary."

Roderick gripped the arms of his chair and leaned forward.

"But why?" he asked, quietly and with a suggestion of helplessness.

"Can't you think of any reason ?" He shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't."

"Then perhaps I can enlighten you," Merrill pursued. "Here is an elderly man with only two living relatives in the whole world, yourself and Mr. Carol. There must have been moments when ho experienced a sense of acute loneliness

... as though he was cut off from any contact with the only people he had any right to regard as really belonging to him. One of them conies up to Leybourne occasionally whenever lie can spare the time away from his business. The other can't do that because lie is not in England. But that other one, Mr. Masters, could at least have written to his uncle telling him how he was getting along. Instead of that Mr. Stokes told me that while he heard from you two or three times during the first year you were away, your letters became considerably less frequent and at last they ceased altogether. Can you wonder that he should have talked, as he did, about his 'ingrate of a nephew'?"

"That's not true, Roderick denied. "Whenever I had the opportunity I did write to him. In fact the shoe is rather on the other foot, for during the whole of my twelve years' absence Unele Richard answered only one of my letters, and that was to tell me that 011 no account could he let me have a loan of a few hundred pounds to tide me over a rather bad patch when I was in Capetown. After that, I naturally did not write so often as perhaps I .might have done."

Merrill was wondering what she ought to say to this man who was so frank and so transparently sincere. Pier reproaches lacked the fire she had always imagined she would be able to impart to them