FOR LOVE & FORTUNE: A ROMANCE OF LEEDS.

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXX, Issue 1514, 17 May 1898, Page 2

FOR LOVE & FORTUNE: A ROMANCE OF LEEDS.

By Stephen Somerset,

Author of "The Earlsford Mystery/' "The Tragedy in Milton Buildings,'' "The Mystery of Eversfield Grange," &c., &c.

" Cfoapter jjf. fHE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF

accordingly the edict went forth to cut Mr.". Saunders.

ETHEL MF.LVILLE

Ethel and her friend lingered on for a week at, Southsea, avoided or slighted by nearly all their former circle, and then Mrs. Saunders despairingly proposed that they should return home again. " Nob if lean help it," thought Ethel, whose more resolute n.iture revolted at the idea of going back defeated from her first social campaign. "If I may venture to advise, I don't think that would be at all prudent, dear Mrs. Saunders," said she, diplomatically ; "just think what the Smithsons, and the Browns, and the Tompkins' would say, when you have told them we were going to spend two months here and go into the best eociebv !"

After Ethel had been a few weeks at Mrs. Saunder's villa at Chapeltown, she began to find life there less agreeable than it had nt first appeared.

The intimacy with the Rivers family, from which she had hoped so much, seemed likely to die out altogether. Mrs. Rivers, of course, spent nearly all her time at Reginald's lodgings in Park-square, and Everard also had almost deserted Rivers Park. The gossips said his fickle fancy had been caught by the charms of a beautiful burlesque actress, who had recently performed at one of the Leeds theatres. Be this as it may, he constantly ran up to town, and seemed to have forgotten the existence of Ethel Melville. Mr. Lynwood too, did not appear anxious to continue the acquaintance which he had commenced so eagerly, and there were no other very eligible j-iartin among Mrs. Saunder's circle. " I'm wasting valuable time here," concluded Ethel one day, after reviewinjrall these circumstances. " I'm not growing younger, neither is uncle. He's been looking fagged lately and might drop any time. Then where should I find myself? Poked up in some horrid schoolroom at a salary of five-and-twenty pounds a year, very likoly. No, I must be looking out for fresh fields and pastures new—if I can only hit on the means of getting there." It seemed to Ethel almost, as though Providence had worked a miracle in her favour, wh?n presently Mrs. Saunders drowsily remarked, as she rang for live o'clock tea: "Do you know, my dear, I really think if J could boar the journey, I should like to ppend a few weeks at Southsea. I had a letter from the Readcs this morning, and they are staying there, and yery much want one to join them." "I'm certain you could bear the journe3 T , and, in fact, it would be the very thing you want, to strengthen your nerves after this hot summer," responded Ethel, enthusiastically. " ion always said Southsea suited you, and yon know so many people there."

"So I did, unluckily, my dear. It's a terrible pity, bub we might say I was ill." "Ay, if it were not for these stuck-up Clarence-Greens. They know people down here, and would never rest till they found out the truth ; whereas, if we could say we had changed our minds and gone on to Brighton they might never suspect anything." " Well, something must be done, for I don't think I would care to goon living at Chapeltown if my friends there knew how I had been slighted here." "Then let us go to Brighton, to the hoarding-house you once told me about, that was so delightfully select." " But there would only be nobodies at Brighton just now. The season does not begin till later in the year " "Nevermind. Let us fro and establish ourselves thero, and make excursions until the season begins." " Well,your ideas are generally practical, Ethel. If I feel equal to arranging about my packing we might leave the day after to-morrow." And so it fell out t hat Ethel Melville went on a journey which changed the course of her life, and also that of others among our acquaintances.

(Bbapter jjtt. MRS. RIVERS DECIDES HER FATE. During the whole of the day following Everard'sdeath. Mrs. Rivers remained with her brother. His co>>dit ; on did not change m «ier : ally either for better or worse. He rambled ince santly, and ah his speech was of mortgages, debts, banki uptey, and other similar topics which would have started the ■■•any rivals who envied him his commercial riumphs. As the evening drew on he became somewhat quieter, however, from sheer exhaustion, and Mrs. Rivers, whose plans were now fully matured, announced her intention of goi >g to Park-square, in order to see how Reginald did, and to give her maid, whom she had left there, some orders about packing. "I shall be back before midnight, most likely," she said to the nurses, and taking one last, brief look at her brother, she quitted the house. She drove first to Rivera Hall a«d there dismissed Mr. Lynwood's carriage, saying sho should probably take ber own, which was still kept at the hall. She gave some orders to the servants, and going up to her room spent a few minutes there. Then she sob out on foot and walked rap'dly to Chapeltown, where she took a cab and drove to Victoria-square. There she dismissed the driver, whp had not seen her face, for she wore a thick veil. Thence she walked to the house in Parksquare, and letting herself in with her latch-key, went noiselessly upstairs. "If I am seen there's nothing extraordinary in my being here," sho said to herself, "and if I can avoid being observed, so much the better. I shall then perhaps hear what I want to know." Fortune seemed to favour her, for when she readied the door of the dressing-room adjoining that in which Reginald lay, she heard Air. Wilfer, Dr. Burdock, and Dr. Taylor in earnest conversation. Viola was also present, Mrs. Rivers discovered by looking between the hinges of the door, and she was weeping bitteily. At the moment when Mrs. Rivers began to listen to the conversation, Mr. Wilfer was saying with unusual warmth, " The moment poor Reginald has passed away the truth shall become known, and this murderess shall be brought to justice. There will then be no near representative of the Rivers' family alive, and, therefore, no one whom we need consider."

" Yes. I could introduce you to a very nice circle, my dear, for, of course, I hope you would accompany me." " I should enjoy it of all things, dear Mrs. Saunders. When shall we start ? Do let us settle it at once," exclaimed Ethel, joyously. "Could we be ready in a week, do you think ?"

'* Oh, sooner than that, I'll superintend your packing. Don't worry about anything, but leave it all to me," said Ethel, quickly. She hurried on the preparations for the journey as rapidly as possible, for she knew how changeable Mrs. Saunders was, and feared she might alter her mind. Owing to Kthel's vigorous action the two ladies were established in lodgings at Southsea in three days' time, and Mrs. Saunders, declaring herself dead with fatigue, remained in bed till the end of the week, and then began to call upon her local friends.

Ethel discovered that the Misses Reade had no merit save that of being distant cousins to an earl. They were useful, however, in introducing Mrs. Saunders and her protege to the select circle which they adorned. At first Ethel was in the seventh heaven of delight, but. she soon found that though the pretensions of these people were great, their financial resources were limited, and after this I hey ceased to interest her much.

"But I may .yet introductions through them," she consoled herself by reflecting, "and now I am learning something of the ways of society. I shall have a better chance elsewhere later on, if only I can induce Mrs. Saunders to go about a little." On tho whole, therefore, Ethel would have been well content to stay a month or two at Southsea, and it seemed probable ahe would do so, when an untoward incident occurred, which, trivial as it was, influenced the fate of more than one person concerned in this narrative.

" Even if there were, it would be out of the question to hush the matter up," said Dr. Burdock, with equal decision. "Taylor and I will state what we know at the inquest, and the post-mortem will probably reveal more."

On a never-to-be-forgotten occasion Mrs. Saunders in her capacity of companion had eaten her dinner at the same table with a Duchess. Ethel had heard bhe story of this dinner-party till she knew it by heart, and when she chanced to read in a local paper that the Duchess in question was staying at Bouthsea, she told Mrs. Saunders of the circumstance.

"As I thought, the game is up. Then it is time for me to disappear from the scene for ever," concluded Mrs. Rivers.

Without waste of time she went to her own room, and placed on her dressing-table the following letter, which she had written before leaving her brother's house. It was addressed to Viola, and ran as follows :

" Then, my dear, I'll try and get at) introduction. Nob but that I was introduced before, but the Duchess might not remember mo."

" Dear Viola, —I hardly like to make one so young and innocent as yourself the confident of my sorrows, but you have been much with me of late, and have, I think judged me more fairly than others. " I have made myself a beggar in trying to save my poor brother from ruin, and I have learnt from his broken words to day that the sacrifice has been vain. In am in despair, and seeing no hope for either of us. I prefer to end my life at once, rather than to live, a burden toothers. " 1 wish you and all my friends prosperity, and I die in charity with all men.— Farewell, Mary Rivers."

Ethel was of course delighted at the possibility of becoming acquainted with a leader of society. "Who knows what may come of it?" thought sho, little dreaming of the catastrophe for which she was paving the way. " Will you contrive to bring in my name when you are t-ilking to the dear Duchess, one day ? " Mrs. Saunders asked one of the Misses Reade. " I usred to know her—that is to say I met her !tb Lord Well broke'*, when we were both on a visit there, when when I used to go more into society, you know."

Miss Reade promised to do as she was requested. The fact that Mrs. Saunders had been the salaried companion of the great people whose names were so constantly on her lips, was unknown to her present circle, and in her eagerness to visit the Duchess, Mrs. Saunders omitted to conaider the effect this information might have on them.

Then Mrs. Rivers quickly took off her long cloak, and put on a complete costume which none of her household had ever seen. This she covered with the long cloak, put on the hat she was ordinarily wearing, and put a traveller's hat in her pocketNext she packed up the dress and jacket she hud taken off, and also took up a tiny bag, all of which articles she conceale 1 under her cloak. Finally, she stole out of the house,as she had entered it,unobserved.

A day or two later, Mrs. Saunders and Ethel, going on to the pier, found themeelves most coldly received by several leading members of the " select " circle in which they had recently moved. " My dear, what can be the meaning of it?" exclaimed Mrs. Saunders, almost tearfully, as she and Ethel sauntered disconsolately back to their lodgings, and Ethel Mas equally unable to solve the mystery. The truth soon leaked out, and Mrs, Saunders discovered, too late, the fatal blunder she had made.

As she hurried through the Square she glanced upwards. The sky was starless ; thunder growled in the distance, soon becoming louder, and presently a vivid flash of lightning played across the empty Square, and lighted up the pale, resolute face of the fugitive. " There'* a storm breaking. So much the better for me. None of my friends will be out to-night, and after all," she added with grim humour, as her spirits rose with the exercise, and the increasing hope of safety, " it's rather a characteristic end for me. My enemies call me a 'she-devil,' I'm told,so its only natural I should disappear amid thunder and flame."

The Duchess, a gossiping, thoughtless wonirtn, without any actual malice in her nature, had, as it happened, remembered Mrs. Saunders, and having some reputation for wit, had thought proper to give a droll description of the companion, summoned to fill an unexpected vacancy at the table, badly dressed, and ill at ease, yet Btrising to give herself the airs of a woman of society. Her Grace's remarks were not iu the best taste, but thoy bad an effect which, to do h»*r justico, she had never Intended.

{ To b". continued)

" You are the only girl in all the wide world that I have ever loved," he said to tho Boston maiden.

" I am delighted to hear you say so," sh& answered ;" but I think you arc hardly correct in saying the wide world. Round world would be better. The world ;.< round, slightly Battened at the poles." At the Zoo. Lover of Animals (to keeper): "That monkey looks a? if he'd got consumption, poor fellow t" Keei>er (stirring him up) s " Nonaeast, iv'a his vanity; corneue there Osaw.' Wilde."

The" genteel ; ' coterie to which Ethel i\d Mrs. Saunders had been admitted, Ward of the Duchess's ridicule, through fhe Misses Reade, who went into both the •vUtrCia!ic and the " genteel " set Now Mrs. Saunders was not wealthy enough to (lake her new acquaintances overlook tha fcct'-'v'. .'• d'.'c'.'SSif >U\s l n .lMfhed. flt brr, and