UNKNOWN

Clutha Leader, Volume XLI, Issue 1, 10 July 1914, Page 7

UNKNOWN

By FLOKEN'CE WARDEN.

jitbor of "Settled out of Court," •'The Lo ve that Never Dies," ••The Face in the Flashlight," "The White Countess," etc. CHAPTER XIII. [ day «'as the appearance of the soaker in Edna's own sitting-room , tic material for the dress, patit scissors, and many pins. [jss Woods, that was her name, was side:. !y good-looking young woman, jdly built, with dark hair, a bright plexion. and tine eyes, to whom 4 took an instinctive dislike, je was very quic:, very clever with jngers, and appeared to take great uuitli her work. But there was a mis antagonism in her glance whenr her eyes met those of Edna unexgdlv, which surprised and puzzled girl, "ho was quite sure that this the very first time she had' ever I the black-eyed beauty. sss Woods was very quiet indeed, W g as the housekeeper was in the t, took orders from her with almost qnious readiness, and snipped and id, and pulled out taoking-threads measured, without ever saying a,* 1 j unless she was directly addressed. it when Mrs Holland had left, the i, summoned away on some urgent ahold business, the obsequious imaker s manner changed a little, all on her knees beside the young ', and still busy with scissors and she suddenly looked up and said, itone which was quite markedly agBive: ind how long may it be, miss, since have been in his Lordship's serle question and the tone were alike trtinent ,and Edna for a moment eno answer. She was, to begin ij so intensely amazed at this agave behaviour towards her on the iof a woman whom she had never re seen or even heard of that she quite at a loss how to deal with

K woman looked up again, in the t aggressive manner, as if demandan immediate answer to her ques- . [og had better put any question of sort you wish to ask to Mrs Hol- " Edna .said at lsat,. very quietly, tot without dignity. ltdr°ssniaker gave a sort of snort, wnt fin with her work. It seems strange you should take K at a simple question like that, i," she said at last, without looking Jus time. b made no answer. Vrhaps Mrs Holland will tell me wson why you're so touchy about [asked." u's amazement grew. Important (matter of the dress was, consid[be peremptory orders which Lord igtnn had given, she was resolved I put up with the annoyance of at impertinence while it was beade. So, though with much relucland some outward signs of nerv*ss, she said, after a short pause, i? which the dressmaker had n another aggressive look at I don't think I'll trouble you to • this dross for me, Miss Woods-" ■tie higan to take off the pattern r that ,vas being fitted on her. • Toman's manner changed immeij. -Oh, pray, miss, don't say • It would be a bad dav's work for II offended Mrs Holland. For she's ■e many ;. bi: of work to do for f Lockington." i>» was still more surprised than »• This young woman was anxious «k for the people at the Hall, and lie seemed unable to resist the ftation of being rude to those whom •erred. That, at least, was the wplanatioii of her behaviour thai fed to Edna.

■Jen why are you so rude?" she & coldly. "dressmaker's dark cheeks flushed «P crimson. "I wasn't aware that •rude, miss. I'm sure I didn't •to be. But strangers are a rarety i»nd I didn't know you'd mind my "g whether you'd been here long.'' "w been here only a week," said •> shortly. She was sure, by the a whieh the young woman pursed * moirh at the answer, that she nown as well as Edna herself how W had been at the Hall. ™ you've friends here alf.haven't your" went on thedress- *■ throwing at her another keen

•m wa s mure puzzled then before. '«* was sure there was some inotederlyiiin; the rudeness, andtthat ' "Oods felt in some wav aggrieved fended at something "the young to M had done.

* wnat it was Edna, quiet inno- * of having done anything which o annoy ,„• () ff cm \ a nvone, had not >ast idea. Mope I've made friends,."- said ".quietly. "At least, I've scarcely .?r, tlmo tn make anv enemies, I ™ think." *

dressmaker gave a sudden sav•P wi:!, her scissors, which sugr Xr > Kdna that, if she had not , a ny ramies, she had certainly . °J*. -More and more bewildered, "? wo y (mn g woman fit and pin and "silence f„ r some minutes. Then Jwoods suddenly said: ?ve taken some walks already, «on'"' S not a libert - v to ask the se words were uttered in a much ,<•»" tone, but the look in her t]y V' S ' as sne gazed searchin§""»a s face, was just as aggres- ** Wore. Jtonk you must have mistaken "? e . c lse for me," said Edna. "I m u outside the Part-" »'t -A - Park ves a good waU£ ' ' ". You can go two miles in r « n d to end. I believe." £ «M not feel called ujion to afL* «eny this. There was another

"You've met some of the people about already, haven't you, miss? I've heard people talking about you, as if they'd seen you," Miss Wood went on presently. Edna shook her head. However unwilling sho might be to converse with this young woman, she wanted her to know that she had made one great mistake about her. It seemed clear to Edna that somebody else had been taken for herself, for certainly her own wanderings, having been very few and very limited, could have given rise to but little gossip. Unless—she wondered whether the laboring man who had come at her call when she discovered the body on the "round, had been chattering in the neighborhood about her, and about that incident of the man and the cloak.

"I've seen nobody outside tho walls of the park," she said.

-And then she looked* at the young woman, to find out whether she knew of that particular incident. Miss Woods gave no indication of any such knowledge. It seemed plain that she believed Edna to have been seen outside the park. "Then somebody must have seen you '.vcr the park wall, miss," said the dressmaker, in a tone which clearly n.eant to insinuate that Edna was telli.ig an untruth.

E'Lii grew quite unconfortablo at this tersisteit and impertinent incredulity, which she would have complained about to Mrs Holland, 'f she had not remembered that, unfortunately, the housekeeper aiso for <. ; iio.ir,t reasons. Jw.ked upon her a< Uhwortbv of implicit be'ief.

She answerh! a few ;,ihm- questions, u!- designed m 'h- s:ur>o ivay'to imp.; that she had been seen outside the park walls, very curtly and coldly, and when Mi-s Holland came in, and the interrogatory ceased, she was flushed uncomfortable, and miserable to such a point that it was impossible her condition should escape the housekeeper's vigilant eye. When the trying ordeal of the interview with Miss Woods was over, Edna resolved not to have to put up with any more impertinence, told the housekeeper, simply and quietly, that she disliked the dressmaker, and that she hoped she would not have to be fitted by her. "I'd rather Susan did it," sho added. "She's quite clever enough to tell tin's young woman what is wrong with "What has she done that you don't like '' asked the housekeeper, searchinsly.

"She persists in saying—or in hinting—that I've been seen outside the park walls -Since I've been here, and that I've made acquaintances here. But it's not true, as you know." But Mrs Holland began to look at, her in almost the same manner as»Miss Woods had done. "How do I know?" she said, shortly, as she shrugged her shoulders and shortly left the room. Edna was stupefied. What was this that had happened ? Who had been impersonating her? For that the housekeeper believed what Miss Woods had hinted rather than what she, Edna herself, had said was plain enough. Even the excitement of playing and singing to Lord Lockington, now that she felt him to be a friend whom she had met and conversed with, could not entirely quench the uneasiness and distress which Edna felt when she recognised the fact that someone had been making mischief for her. Who it was, and how it had been made, she could not guess. She t had seen, before that interview with the dressmaker, no faces but kind ones, and no offended expression upon the countenance of any of the household except that of Mrs Holland on the previous evening.

What, then, could be the explanation, of the mystery? That Miss Woods should have been venomous, and the housekeeper so cold., seemed to point to the fact that both these women believed her to have been guilty of some grave indiscretion, of making friends with absolute strangers, or doing something equally unwise and improper. She thought she would try to make an opportunity of challenging the housekeeper on the subject, although she knew that she had had the misfortune to lose part of Mrs Holland's good opinion by the incident in the White Saloon on the previous evening. In tihe meantime there was the interest of the first call upon her professional services which she had received since the odd meeting with the supposed Lord Lockington in the Blue Saloon. Revesby, as usual, brought the message that his Lordship would be glad if 'Miss Bellamy would sing to ih:m in the old wing; and, as before, she was escorted thither by the butler in high spirits in the hope that, as soon as the man-servant had retired, Lord Lockington would speak to her through the window between the two rooms.

But she was disappointed. The morn* ing passed almost exactly as before. She had sung several songs, to the accompaniment of the organ in the adjoining room, when the-butler appeared, as before, and announced that his Lordship thanked her and would be glad if she would play the organ and the piano in the great hall that afternoon after four o'clock, and that in the meantime he would not trouble her further. Deeply- disappointed as well as surprised, Edna went back to her own sitting-room and played and worked and read*, feeling a strange reluctance to venture alone into the park after what she 'had herself seen there, as well as after the amazing suspicions which her leaving the house by herself seemed to have roused. The day, therefore, passed slowly and uncomfortably, and she was quite glad that, the next day being Sunday, she would have a chance of going beyond, the park walls without exciting gossip. It was Mrs Holland who told her where the church was, and offered to take her there. They generally walked, she said, as it was not more than half a mile from the park gates. The morning was fine and frosty, and Edna, in her black jacket without any furs, felt rather cold as she kept pace with Mrs Holland's somewhat heavy and leisurely . tread on their way through the park. ~ «To Edna's satisfaction, they passed just near enough to the little square stone -building with the heavy iron-

bound door for .her to be able to direct her companion's attention to it. "What is that queer little stone house?" she asked.

Mrs Holland laughed. "That's not a house," E aid she. "It's much too small for that: It's a sort of shed that was built by his Lordship's order many years ago to keep a target and shooting things in." "Is it used now?" "Not since my Lord's lived all by himself, shut up in the Hall."v "But it's got a door." "Oh, yes; it was used once, by his Lordship himself. But that was years ago. He doesn't take any interest in shooting or anything else now." "He couldn't shoot if he's an invalid," said Edna. Mrs Holland threw at her a quick look. "No, of course he couldn't," she said quickly, .with an air of being tired or the subject.

Edna walked on again in that mood of puzzled silence so usual with her now, and made no attempt to learn any more from her companion concerning her employer. Tho church to which they were wending their way was an old one, stonebuilt, with a square tower-and three aisles. It was of fair size, and was well filled with a typical country congregation such as Edna was surprised to find within" so few miles of a great city. She sat with the housekeeper in the Hall pew, which was comfortably cushioned and very large, and Ednacould not help noticing, as the pew was at right angles to most ofpews, the intense interest with which she, as a'stranger, was regarded, by the rest of the congregation. .Whenever h:?r eyes turned in the direction of the body of the church, she was. sure to ■find somebody else's eyes fixed upon her. Of course, this was really not very surprising, considering that'the parish was a country one, where everybody knew everybody else, and especially considering the singular circumstances of life at the Hall, as known by everyone. Still, Edna was rather disconcerted by the great amount of attention she excited, and she would willingly have escaped another ordeal which awaited her when service was over. A lady, whfi had occupied a pew opposite to that of the Hall,, was standing outside the church porch surrounded by her children, and speaking and nodding to so many members of the congregation as they passed out that it was easy to discover she was the vicar's wife.

Indeed, just as Edna came out in the porch, Mrs Holland' whispered in her ear:

"That's Mrs Eastham, the vicar's wife. She's sure to speak to you." And, indeed, Mrs Eastham may almost be said to have pounced upon Edna and her companion as they came out.

"Ah, Mrs Holland, how do you do?" said the vicar's wife, who was-a very homely-looking lady, in sidespring boots, white stockings, and the sort of clothes which might be expected to correspond with those details. "And so this is Miss Bellamy, 1 suppose ? How do you do?"

And thus abruptly introducing herself, Mrs Eastham, shaking Edna by the hand, and dexteriously whisking her out of the pathway into the long grass between the graves, went on: "I must introduce you to Mr Eastham. Mrs Holland, may we take her home to dinner with us?"

"I'm sure she'd be delighted," said the housekeeper. Edna tried to look as if phe were, without much success. .

Seven pairs of rather uninteresting light eyes, those of the vicar's family* were fixed upon her with so much interest that it was difficult to imagine that she would have a very lively time at the vicarage.

Then the vicar came out, and Miss Bellamy was introduced by his wife to a tall, grave elderly man with a pleasant face, a manner which was too cold but dignified and "refined, and a strong Lancashire burr in his speech. . Edna had to walk between the two elders, and she found the ordeal a trying one, as, although without impertinence, they were evidently anxious to know all about her engagement,' and thought i; a curious one. But it was when they had reached the vicarage,''a pleasant old house with large windows and good gardens, that the worst part of her suffering commenced. (To be continued.)