THE MAN OF A HUNDRED MASKS.

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume I, Issue 190, 29 July 1911, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE MAN OF A HUNDRED MASKS.

— — — - - - — >‘T Hi JSHED BY SPECIAL ' lilt.l M.HMI N 1

By , i , '

W.A. MACKENZIE.

Author of •’ The Bite of the Leech." " His Majesty’s Peacock. “ The Drexel Dream,” " In the House of the Eye.” “ The Glittering Road.” &c.. &c COPYRIGHT.

CHATTER XXI ZUI'GHI MAKES A DEDUCTION. Mrs. Rrinch r> turned to • : about half-past eleven that night. Her visit to that part of L<mdon which still live-t awav bark in the Early Yktorian ri.-! -what a cert iin cpicrammatixt has c.albsi the HorM*riatr <3*? —had oxhan-tc«i her: the muffins had lawn too the tea ton black and t!c pork chops of snpiier lav on !>• r tnnsrvnc? like rmi> ponderable lead ■ It w.t-t with a sigh of relief she- stos«p <1 -t the door of No. 19. and failed for le r i >t< b-kev. ■'THank go<xlno-s.” -he <aid. ‘ that's ore.* for sir iron tbs. Camberwell—hah! Not for tn'*! Not while 1 ha.-c nr litl! • liomc hero with the girls.” The her was tot forthcoming. Then Mis. Br'n'-h remembered placing it on the kitchen mantel-piece, where, in all po*®i’wlitv. it was now resting But. no matter, if Stella had !*een well enough to rule to Hampstead the prorwu.s dav. she was well enough to walk along the little passage and open the door So Brinch rang. There was no sound within. Had Stella gone to hod. then? That was not likclv. since her habit was to wait up and have supper with Matgai'et. Perhaps -!.»• had a headache, though, and had relin'd oarlv? Or sh.,» had fallen ndwp bv the fir.’ she was nmir without »t night, even on the hottest nights of summer? Mm. B rim’i rang again. this time with greater persistence. “I’m afraid I’ll have to wait until Miss Margaret comes homo. A nice thing, after that horrible afternoon in C-amlterw.-ll it's tokmi wore out of mo than -i whole nirht of danmng in the days wl.cn clmcing ri as dancing. Ah I poor old -John ’• iliin-he.id that's dead and gone wouldn’t have put up with the Sopperty-flop irlidov-g.’— low imitation they call diming nowadays. Well, hero gom for a third time.” And again, and for a longer period. Mrs. Bi inch rang. 'Gone to bed, and sound." she sighed. “Well. I’.c got to make myself comfortable: that’s all there is to it.” So she settled herself mi the topmost step of the stairs, and turning her back against the wall, folded her hands m her lap and prepared for a wait of haU an hour. In ten minutes she was

fast a-dc-cp _ / Margaret and Luciar. found her thus when they came quietly up about half past twelve. “Brinchie. Brinelde—wake up. yon dear old sonl! What on earth are you doing lhercP” "Doing hero, nv dm-? Well, now. it’s all the fau’t >f that pork-chop. I’m sure. Forgo' mv kev — “But didn't von ring?” "Ring. is it? Of emirs'. I rang: hnt Miss Gordon’s gone to bed and 1

eoiiWin’t malto he* hear.” •’•inn’ to Tir'd.” said Margaret, hastily in.v-rting he;- key in the lock. “Thon sho’.s not -veil I must see what is tho matter. Don't rome in, Lucian, nisi wait a niomeiis <>r two. If she s gone to br-d. you can’t come in, you know I’ll come back again and give yon good-night. ” Margaret pn.-lusl in The passage was ir. total darkness. She switched on th” el.Tlric light- and went at once *«> Stehr’s bedroom door, opening it rerv softly. The ti-.-iriwun was. in darkncsS, too. ami by passing her hand over *.h»' pillow she learned tls.it the bed was nnoerunied. -"She must have fallen asleep on the Sofa.” thought Margaret. coming out and enterin'* the sitting-room. Thrctigh the windows, across which the inrtnins hail not Ix-eu drawn, came a gleam ot light from the gas-lamps in the str. ' t b low , and flickered tittttUy on the whiter ceding. By such n reflected light mm cannot see clearly. but on<> >wi: see dimly; one can make out fornu—and Margaret saw Uw» heap on the -nt.’ Sbo turned on th-' eb'« trit: light, and Moved towards ’itelfa. “Slellat” she '.di -d in a low voi»-»». sn .as net to awake the sleeper too hrOM|O<dv. As tie-re eas no answer, •ho said, ‘.StilJa;”’ a rain a little louder. Mrs. Brioch was already hustling about the kitchen. Margaret heard the preliminary ex plosion of air in the Sipes of the g.is-s'ov.' It was. strangc_r, cttrnmUy. e -rily still here in the Mtting-f.om She approached the .sofa to remove the rug. and gently shake Stella awake. Th n -I;, - .night sight of the gier-e of pip"- -< it : « Gi > black hand She held be* I r .it - Lw a second, but

abe> did not ’■ -»• ->ar SteMa’ wax. ,nn !> pliving a a willy. mIIv •nko. She plucked off the mg swiftly, and seined Stella’s shoulders for the purOOflO of givoig her a .shake, such a •baking os this snirsonii* kind of hnmnnr deverv.xl Her l and tour h<*l Ste'iia s m* k. It wxs •pi'.r*» cold- -cold a* tee. For a m'O'-'ii. *■!.> , 'od m'rffretly »t.b. f-.z. >■ ... ,»-w a. that she had tour! ,'d Hi ,-v.- diHtisl with horror. Th - J-• -rrm.! -I. -dv and tottered into th- pi—ig- . u; .| to the dnor. Lucian »», .wwiz h. - Her face wiw white as. pat . r. and s’;e swaved .is she walked. ile put mt his arms and vaii.-hl her ‘•Margaret!” She hid her r v -.» -io Ids bread. ‘'Margare*' M»rg>rotf What on earth w th” iwr-'.-r'” Shu lifted np her f.v--*, am! ho saw in her eyavr that >ire had seen something dreadful. something verv nnnnud. unmet htn- t’- >f lev’ turned her to store >’•' I ' ’ •' M.ro.n.t, •prat.” "Gr-’’ ,t r,..j j,,,,, ~v. v tho hand t'm.ird, I-" sit* ;n.',-r<s»m. L r *e..m -,ii “ I i -* r th d Rtelia Gned.s.. i, , J,.!,1 ,J 3 „.j tbo rurplo h,, ’ , , , r ,s ; .... thrnit t»>ld !>■•’■ l-.i- ’ >,| ]-, s J A« thev wo>«. Icir::- - fl,-, nwn t 1 met Mrw. Brpwh in tb- f>n-s.s.s,». cr.-w--ing »;»b the t. !.r tho t far sapper. Luetau took it f-.sris Ji.-.- h.-.n.ls, ,nrd going Mck. spr.-id it .-ever?i:Hv met the dead.

Presently the- police came. .IP nf-dit long thoro wa» a t'i cob-

stables, detectives, and journalists. At five in :ne nn inilig iliirgarc’t leit tne Hat. and was taken in by a charitable neighbour. a woman novelist, who lived below. Mrs. Brinch and Lucian remaned in charge. By eight o’clock the evening papers were publishing special editions anti all Lon lon. from Piccadilly to Peckham, Iron Wimblorton to Woolwich, knew that one of the capital’s favourite .I' trossces had fallen a victim to the 81.-mk H ind. At ton o'clock, after his usual slight breakfast, fruit and biscuits. Signor Gaetano Zucchi left his chambers m the Temple and emerged into Fleet Str-v-t. Ho entered Henry VIII.’s hou- (which ni vsr was Henry VIII.’s) ami went upstairs to the .shaving. Mt I non. “Terrible murder, sir. s ” said the vh-te-anrnnrd barber, as he tucked the nankin about his nock. “Ahl another murder?” said Zucchi. “Haven’t you hoard, sir? Miss Gordon. of the Thespis. A star, if ever there- was one. Saw her first in the 'Saucy Girl’ three years aco . Success? My word, she was the sauciest little bit o’ goods. S’ ’eiu m•. I don't know - hot or'cold sir?- no. I don’t knowhow anyone could hav'* had the ’onrt tn do it. Strangled, she was. Police sav thov have the usual chics but thoy won’t do much good: »hev don't seem to be able to touch those Black Hand fellows—beg pardon. I’m sure, but reallv it wasn’t niv fault : voir moved, yon know. TLo block will soon sten it—it’s .mt very dnon. That bettor? Thank von. sir Oh! yes sir. tlmv fnitml the usual visiting card, ntdv this time it was on an ordinary sheet of paper not a small affair as before, hut- as large as life, a real man’s hand. It’s terrible the police can't do anythin < R av ,uni. t ; r p to. fid it is awful. Powder? No? Voi v good, sir . Th:v>k yon. sir. N« \t. pions-*.” Signor Zucchi rohnned to tlio Temple. but did not st;-v long. After noting that Mr. Artloir Sm-hev-*r-'l’s looms were unoccupied, he went citv-

v.ards and cn’er-sl Mar-ion Hous * ('hambors Bv the pnrnetual lift <-'i which more anon) he mounted to the third storey, mid made his way by tortuous corridors an 1 -ide passages io roor.i , 9 «Ims** <h*or boro jo viinnl • b iter- the wor k “Mr. Jacob Carp'i>a; I. Mm-tgage-broxor ”

He did not tap He turned the handle and entered closing the door carefully behind him. There was a cruel smile on his lips. Mr Jacob Caipmacl we have s<*<m li-'fore. on the first night of the “Dear fiirl” the Themis Theatre—there is no need to describe him again. He was seate-1 at a plain deal table, scribbling kastilv with his quill pen. Ho locked up at the noise of the opening door and his iips grew firm and bar. I

Ho set himself back in his chair, and a w lite ] the nnv attack, biting the end of the rniill. ‘‘You didn’t oxfiect to see me?” said Zuif hi. quizzingly. •’Can’t you leav.- me alone?” "Ah! you want co be left alone?” *‘l have a right to that mneh.” said th<- old man. ‘ I bare Iwniglit your sjiem-.' n.-d<l enough for it. too. anil I ( bar- a rijit to in-ist on your kwpitig j your hah of th ' 1..-.igain.” • ’ Jlavi- as many lights as you < hoose.” I said Ztic hi. •’Min-ii good may thev do von!"’ •Why do v.hi come here?” j •’Bx<au«c I want money,” said Zocchi. ; "Ml I"-?" } " More ” I ‘You’ve had twenty thousand J pounds.” • Weil, and if I have had? What then?” ••It was enough.” I ‘ Enough- for one affair. Enough — for keeping the secret of John Joseph i Armotsr. But not enough for keeping the Mt-ii-t of the jther Armour — Lancelot.” ‘What do yon mean?” I ‘ Ye.';’ <<x>ln<"s fills mo with admiration.” • f ini obliged to vou.” "And I -hall lie obliged to you for | mother ’-.irnf.- thousand.” ■ Carpmael pit do-.ur his pen. •Talk sense.” he said shortly. | ‘I will.” suit! Zuechi. ‘‘Have vou ! seen the pafier.i this morning? There’s an interesting account of a murder.” I I have ii,iA it.”

“Yon v.-i nl<l. iiat iral’v. It is interesting to roe how one’s handiwork [ *tri.<es the imaginativi? iouruaiist.” I I don't nt deisf.ind you.” I ’No, Mr. ----- whatever your name [ is. i, t me call von Lane, lot Armour? ’ it was a rejry clever idea of yours to [ :>nec a bl.:«k im'id and lav it on the ; fJe.id «e' i.»n's con-ring- Hut yon J 1 marl-' a mistake ticthat's going to i .'.ot yon twenty thousand pounds and j not iiii<. p«-jinv |e»,. Xight Ix-fore last ; we i an e tr an urra.igi merit which cost [th * '.line sum. To-dai we shall come

I to a similar arrnnu m:--nt with regard j tc. tm> mode.- .H "stella Gorden.” ! Ag.iin. I tell >o'i. I don't understand ! von.” i , Acrv well. tile c. l!hl . h'.jff . it • i w ill D.dv rem. ml. r that when : you strangled So-Ila Gorden •.•■it’ l her ;etrn hair, for th- 1 pnr|i«'». the insane j o:ir;s.■■'»'. of k» oping vn’ir daughter in I *>,>■ ir.H’t rank of act : ve’r ... nitl'mi*. ‘■■ r 1- brain of . triond. G:o * l'"> Z.l'" I i. ” •’Man. you’re mad!” j I <1:1 v.eh ’ J v. W,-*l. ! Ar nxvisr. is it to .1;,- -s .->■• Th" >.!d r.v>r pick,vl no the .e.’ill igt'fi anil after idaving it ’• it a - -’id <■:’ t-vn. thiri-" >t :»t, Ziiscbi. ■(‘". •c I 1.-s' d. "It I .co’”. e-Jv - .tl'Avges' ”"11 1 ’■'.■.■■id b’-p-' i i" ■ ’ you 1" • ns’-'.tl. ;-! ’ ) Y.-:’ ' me. V .•-■ : t’ v. •• : i- ..i I r>--*nm " Ifovv von kiwr. t ...... *.i V’-b- . vn’j ,e. it t-l - I s’ If ' r■ - "d 1; 1 to I,* ■ ii , \ J ri-*» si---♦ si--I * r*’ • ’ ’ V.‘ .i;>" wink i' f I -en hive I had ! al’ right.” •t’lt’Ui'osi rtf.Tv rni;rt V-ith print j Ztic ”i:. who ’•"! never left hi-: j j ~,, !,v the do r I "Mv find! if T J.d only bring her (* i**l- • I» fe ’' ’ ‘‘Well, you can’t, yen see. So. the i next L s»t thine is to buy try silence

Then you’ll have only your conscience to worry you, and you can’t buy that JU."

Mr. Jacob Carpmael sank back in his chair and buried Ids face in his hands. Zucchi regarded him with a sardonic smile. There was silence for live minutes.

“I’m in a hurry,” said Zucchi at length. ’’l can't wait here all day.” Carpmael got up. gave himself a shake as if to l>e quit of an obsessing burden, and took his hat from a peg. “Comp over the way to the bank,” he said.

CHA ITER XIII.—MISS VAN ALSTER BEGINS TO ACT.

A on may soften the heart of a hard man ; yon can never soften that of a hard woman. There are reasons for this, but we

may leave the exposition of them to Messieurs les Psychologucs, who know their biisine s so well tor, though they are inters-ting iwons, the teller of stori's hr>s little time to spend in cataloguing them: his work is far other. Therefore, having stated our ride brieflv. we may proceed to record the f:v-t that Mi's Mimi van Alster was no ext option to it. At mid-day Miss van Alster was still ah-d. She had supned at the Chafing

Dish Club with the Honourable George B.'is-sondvne ■ she iuirl nlavod bridge and woo not a little at the Punters’ Club: and sin- ba.l returned to her furnished nnartm-nts in Langham Place some littto-*' b-l’oro thi' milkman clattered along The st roof \s von see. she was perhaps justified in. making la grasse

S'"- stretched out a band and pulled

I the b-11. i Two nr thro? minutes afterwards the <’nor and ’Meliar. Inst word in ! C<mnc'l school products, entered supor- ; edio i-’v with the matut’nal tea and i toa.st and newspanors, the “Era.” of i pn>ir<n. Ir-ing on too. | ‘‘’Mornin*, madam ” said ’Meliar. i sniffinglv.

' “Say—what voti got there? Ten? ; Snake” I’m not gein’ to soak tea r.t i this hour. Rush the can like a good | guir! foi something long ’u’ cool with i a straw in it, ’X’—quick!” i “If ven please, madam.” said 'Meliar. i “I might lie able to facilitate the re.nl- * isation of your desires if you would bo Iso good ns to formulate your wishes i with greater iucklitv and precision.” j “Ail that. Ay-mcba.” cried Miss van i Alster, letting' the ‘■Era” flop to the ' floor “I take it von want to know ! whit I'm gettin’ at. eh?” I “Distinctly so, madam.”

• Well, hustle ’n’ fix me up a cobbler, wi’h more ice-than they’ve got at the North Pole, ’n’ .straw enough to make a Gainsboro!. ’n’ sherry that makes the Ic art -:o merry. Now, skip. A-. -moli:' ”

“Ay-melia” skipped" as much as her seven toon-year-old sense of dignity would allow, and meantime Miss van Alster picked up the paper. A whole nage was devoted to the minder of Stella (Jordon. Wlmn Mimi unfolded the journal von would have said she was the laziest, little eat that ever curled up and purred when her eye caught the ' scarehead” she became a gutta percha ball for elasticity, a bombshell tor compressed force. She bounded out ct bod and. while diving here ami there for the various articles of outdoor toilet, sang -iiat-thes of the Glory Song” at the top oi her shrill Bowery voice. 'M liar, returning with the sherry cobble-, found her more than halfd’essed and battling ineffectually with the mysteries of twenty-seven boots. “Lor’, miss,” cried Meliar, forgetting

for th ' moment the dignity of one who had obtained a certificate for higher English. “Take away that rubbish.’’ cried Miss van Alster. “' N’ get mo a bottle of the bov You’ll find the cash in my sat<h<'l. Hurry.” “Whatevcr’s come tn you, madam?” ‘YMi.it’s come? Glory-fame fortune -the just reward of murr’t. (Miss van Alster meant merit let us forgive her> Av-melia, this night I’m goin’ to vlav the part of tho Dear Girl!’ ” In half an hour tho little American

was at the Thespis Theatre. She bounded past Pratt, without nothing that already Im hail’ bou’ri! a band of crape about his left arm. and mt to the stage wh- re Toddy's tisunllv bright though uglv fare made a lugubrious gloom. Geo-’ge Ibihnrte.s was there, too. and so were ‘•Alphabet’ Atlilone and Garland. •T must do it,” Robartes was saying. ‘ I must., it will cost something but hang it all —the public will ex[>ect it.” ■Morwin’ everybody.” cried Miss van Alster bounding oi with a surge of petticoat. ‘When do we start?” “Start?” said I’obnrtes, turning. ‘‘Sf-i’-t what?” ’ Why—mv rehearsal ’” ‘ Rehearsal of what?” ■‘Well. 1 guess T play the Dear Girl’ to-night, don’t 1?” ‘Guess again, tn? dear," said the great Robartes. "You don’t mean to tell mo that the Armour girl's got no more feelin’ for he: dead pal than that?” “Xi," said Toddy. "Miss Armour will not play to-night.” •Well. I’m next on the list, ’n’ I reckon I oughter have a run through ; I don't med it it's true. I can go ’n’ do it on mv head, ’n’ do it better'll her. too. Still— to get the others used to me. you know.”

•Tlmre will bo no performance in this theatre until Stella Gordon has been bulled,” said Mr. Robartes,

gravely. ■-Wh.it!” she almost shrieked, looking iTom one to the other of the group. "That's so.” said Toddy. ■Prcii'olv.'' said "Alphabet.”

■ YiniTo goin’ to turn away good money.” sb*' went on addressing Robartes.

• f know it.” ho said, calmly. '.X” I s'poso we don't draw nothing whit the theatre’s shut?”

•Yon can suppose w’’>at you like.” ■ It's a shame —it’s a ” ■This is Miss van Alster?” said tlobart.es to Toddv. Yes.” ■ T. li her. Toddy, that 1 do not allow mv a iio;i< to bo ipr-stionod bv anyone in mv employ, male or female. Tell her. ton. iliat she is impertinent, and that the sooner she get= oft my stage the bettor for my temper, and for her chum-os ef remaining my servant, drawing my money and eating my bund. X’ow. At’nlone.” Toddv look Miss van Alster's arm and b’d her towards the wings. ‘ Y mho making a howling ass of voursolf. .Mimi.” said th” good-natured li-tb’ man. 'Take a triendlv tip and u’i;. The guv’nor's horribly upset: if h” wasn't so rn o* Jm'd have sacked '.-n’t on the spot for daring to speak t i him - vou did.” ' Yog rcallv mean that he's ruin' to f unt) l after Stella Gordon” planted?” "Mis; van Als'er. ” said Toddv. drm>’.;::', arm "i’ll thank you to sr-eak :■ btth’ rm r” reverently. We’ro : n- 1 folk, but wo do have seme hei'-t. X'ot a soul in fl ” -I ■■ .’ f n ’ of Stella, and • r- -i’ tn d - her w hat honour we r-■ ■. v.vt ‘--leak tn the meanest English 'lir.nu girl of Stella I’ke that, and yoti'ii have the eves scratched out of your htad b-'fore you have time to say

kroto. You're too businesslike alto-

“Goody”’ snapped Miss ran Alster, and turned her headAs ftho walked ent of H..-- tkeatie. and went westwards, in.■ . heart; —oi what she called her heart —was boiling over with black hate. She saw herself done out of the chance of distinguishing herself; she was jealous with the jealousy of the impotent. Margaret Armour would come back and resume the role she had created and with which she had conquered all hearts. She consigned Margaret to the fate that hud overtaken Stella Gordon, and she cursed her long and deep. As she walked westwards, more than one head was turned to look at her, and to wonder what dark passion was contorting her little baby face so strangely. She crossed the circus, and went along Piccadilly as far as Clarges Street. She stopped at a stuceo-front-ed house with green shutters and flower-boxes, and rang the bell. In answer to the summons, a mummy-faced man servant opened the door. “Mr. Bassendviie?” she said. “I don’t think ’e’s hup yet me lady, but I shall hem-mire.”

“Miss van Alster, tell him ’n’ be smart.”

The H onotirablo George was breakfasting. Morning and evening papers wore on the table, but he had not yet looked at them. He was very tired, very weary, this morning, and his repast consisted of “a whisky and soda, a chop, and a dog” (the whisky and soda for himself, and th“ chop fm the

dog ) “What brings her hero?” he muttered as the man left the room. “She is beginning to worry me too much. I do believe I .shall have to marry her. so as to have a little peace. Good morning. Mimi.” “It ain’t a good mornin’,” snapped the young lady. “What’s wrong?” “Seen the papers?”

"No!” “HuHy Gee! No wonder you Britishers get left in the race. Two o’clock, ’n’ don’t know what the world’s adoin’.” “I don’t know that .vlint the world’s a-doin’ interests me very much.”

‘ Well. Stella Gordon’s pegged out.” “Dead?” “Murdered.” “What ?” “Killed by the Black Hand.”. “Impossible!’’ “I’m tellm’ von!’’ “But ” t ‘ ■ But what?” “It’s not the Black Hand.” “flow do you know it’s not? They found the usual ticket.”

i Still, the Honourable George Basseni dyne shook his head; and Miss Mimi j van Alster wondered why he seemed iso positive. Further, being a young , lady of nimble wits, she asked herself i how George ioul.l know anything about ! it; mid then she remembered that he I had manv oue.nr acquaintances in New : York, and that the Black Hand was not unknown on the other side of the Altunlic, and that —in a void, arguing from altogether shadowy premises, and with the usual blind directness of a i woman, she ?ame, by intuition more ■ than logic to the conclusion that her j arixtocratic friend was a Black Hand I himself.

! She di«l not 'blurt out her eoncluI sion. however She would make sure ■ of her ground, and then she would use ; her information, if correct, to her own i ultimate advantage.”

j “It’s not that that makes me mad, ; ’n’ I am mad - ni-a-d mail. Georgie.” “What is it?”

i “That ass, that pompous ass, • Robartes is shuttin’ the doors, puttin’ ■ up the shutters, until after the funj oral.” | “Ho couldn’t do less,” said George. ! “Well, that diddles me out of iny ■ chance of playin’ the •'DcarGuriT; for > the Armour stick’ll come back - —” I “Will, you can’t help that.” “No! but you might.” i ‘1? Nonsense!” I li’is contemptuous torn; stung her. j “Look here, George Bassendyne, I 'am goin’ to tai!; souse—horse .sense — i ’n you’d better listen to mo. 1 mean I to play the Dear Gurrl,’ ’n’ that’s all ■ there is to it. Margaret Armour must \ not eater the Thespis Theatre again, i You're a man. ’n’ you can do things. ( You’ve got to fix it. If you don’t—- | well, there’s still T hat affair of Mis. ( Schuvk-r’s emerald-— —”

“Curse you : hold your tongue. I the light we’d agreed to let that sleeping dog lie.” “Y’ou agreed, p’raps -I didn’t. You help mo, ’n’ I’m mum. Otherwise. I’ll talk.” “Talk. then. If you do you’ll never talk again.” '■That’s pretty to a lady.” "A lady? A blackmailing little wasp.”

“Huh!” she laughed. “Don’t forget, anyway, that a wasp can sting.”

“I’vo offered to marry you.” “Thanks!” “Bussendyne’s a good name.” “Sot on a bill.” “You would tie worth £lO a week more.” ‘ I’erhans.” ■And ”

“And you'd take that tenner ’n’ as much more as you .eotild get. No, Georgie, I'm not goin’ to support you —yet awhile. I don’t mind bein’ engaged to you —its respectable, to be engr.g”il. far more respectable than bein’ marri”d. 1 may marry you- some day But. just now. got me the part of the *D”ar Gurrl.’ ’n' I’ll hold rny tongue about the emeralds, ‘n’ may lie I’ll marry you into the bargain. Gimme a drink.” It was three o’clock when Miss Mimi van Alster left Gl.trges Street. A smile of triuinpili irradiated her cherubic features, and she hail a more or less contented spirit, for she and the Honourable George had come to an agreement with regard to Margaret Armour. wiio. at that moment, was seated by the side of her dead friend. Stella Gordon weeping from a full heart tears of si.mere ami bitter sorrow. (To be Continued.)