SERIAL STORY.

Marlborough Express, Volume XLIX, Issue 281, 27 November 1915, Page 3

SERIAL STORY.

THE UDY I* BLUE. (By F. M. White.)

CHAPTER XXXII r

THE SHADOW OF A CillM"K

Tho man in the arm-chair looked up without saying a, word. He soemed to bo hall-dazed, like one utterly worn out who is aroused from a deep sleep. 1-1 o was trying to collect himself and struggling slowly back to tho realities of life. Ho saw the princess dimly without catching more than a mere suggestion of her individuality. He saw his? daughter'and Audicy Blair standing side by side, and even he was not blind to the resemblance between ... them. Their coloring was different, and Audrey's features lacked the suggestion of hardness .and oaro which spoilt Pull;v "s more simple beauty. But she was excited now, and a little color had crept into her face. ' The color deepened as she noticed ' that CJutton s eyes were turned upon her wiLh a little more than friendly admiration. For some rime no one spoke. Therewere a good many mixed emotions penned np m that mean, ill-furnished room, and nobody seemed inclined to start a conversation. After all, it was j the man in the arm-chair who first broke the silence. j "I never expected to see you again, Laura," he said. *'T thought that you had passed into a world which was

me altogether. Of course, I Knew what, you were doing, but 1 - thought it Lest and kindest to leave it 'to yourself. You can see what I have come to, and how far I have fallen. , Many a time have I been tempted to write to you for assistance, but something that T call my pride has prevented mo. "Then there is nothing left cut of it all£" the Princess asked. • . "You forget chat I can touch 1 nothing that apparently bolsngs to me." the man in the arm-chair said. "I have only a life interest in the property. And all these years those scoundrels have taken my income, and have hardly left me'enough to keep body and soul together. They are here under the came roof—Magavitch and Polski-and the rest of them., "What would "they say if they knew that you 'were in, this room ? And why do you come hero in this disguise? It is only by your voice that I recognised you. Apparently. ,thoso men have- never troubled you? Why is it?" '"On the contrary," the Princess smiled. "Tl is I who have been v trouble to them. There are two persons of whom they stand in deadly fear—the Princess Zaroff and a, mysterious woman called Zara. They .meet Zara everywhere ; she checkmates thir plans; she has sent a dozen of them to exile. And it has never --.occurred to" any of them that the1 Princess Zaroff and Zara arc one and the same. Now. perhaps you begin to understand why I am liero this evening In my disguise f came here to see Magavitch, and he and his friends dared to lay violent hands upon me. Of course, I knew that my" life was not in danger, for Zara" dead to them is still more dangerous than Zara living. And there was just the -chance they could force me to tell them secrets • for which even that old miser Magavitch would sacrifice half his fortune."

"But how did you escape?" the man in the chair• asked. "And how did you know that you could find mo here?"

'•Perhaps I had better explain," Audrey interrupted. "I am more or less responsible .for all this. But it seems to me that if we start explaining we can go on all,night. Now, let me say who I am, in tho first place, [t is orly the Princess here who knows. On the stage 1 call myself Audrey Blair, but really I am Audrey Barris-•-court, the daughter of Gordon Bwrris-coui-t, the head of the family, who was I supposed to have died mysteriously on the Continent.some years ago. '"Today he (prefers t'o-call-himself Pascoe, and is known better aa a journalist than anything else. All of you here, possibly with the exception of Mr Glutiftm, know the reason for this concealment. When mv father crocs about he disguisesi himself in a red wig and spectacles and. --calls himself by yet another name. • It, seems to me that .yoars ago it would have'b'een far better -to have ' spoken openly of the i ■family'disgrace and ' accepted such! punishment as generally follows a trouble liko ours. This concealment bears hardly upon me, and, also, upon my cousin here.'*

"You children don't understand " Herbert Barriscourt said.

"I am not n child," Audrey exclaimed passionately. "I don't believe I ever \v;as one.. And the same vremar k applies to Polly. Did anybody ever know two .girls who from no fault of their own had such dreary childhood as ours, and all because of that absurd Jarmly prido? Here you are Undo Herbert : living within a mile of mv [father, and. he c lose to you, and you j both pretending to be ignorant of the other s existence. All this I found out purely by accident. ,1 was sworn to secrecy, and, sorely against t my will I have always kept my word. But fortunately for all of us, circumstances have proved too strong. It was only pure chance that I found, myself working in the same theatre as-Poll v J7he iirst time we met I felt.inclin-d to take her into; my "confidence but I remembered my promise and refrained. I don't suppose T should have been here now but for the accident of fortune. ,()f course I ha^ e known for years xJiat the Princess was my aunt, and when I heard to-day that she was in danger, under this very roof, I felt bound to act. I came here this evening and waylaid Polly as she was entering the 'house 1 guessed that the old place would have no secrets from her, and I was right. How_ rightT was the Princess and Mr Glutton wih toll you. Uncle, Uncle Herbert it is useless for you to hide jonrself here any longer. You must come with me—you must all como wi.h m^at once to Barris Court and thrash this matter out." 1 am mi old man," Herbert Barri*court pretested, "lam worn and broken, and I want no more than peace and quietness. My child, you have no conception of what T have gone through tho. last twenty years *or the sjikiyof the old name." ' He spoko imploringly but Audrey was not to be moved. "She had suffered too long from this family obsession to have the slightest sympathy for tho man m tho arm-chair. As she had truly said, she was no longer n child to be swayed by the whims and selfish' fancies of i.or ciders. She could sen clearly enough that f«to was offering her light and life and happiness, if she only had the couraac to hold out her hands and grasp them firmly. t>h | han- been told that til! I am tired or hearing it." kl lO said "impatiently. '\Rvm- since I was old enough to undorstiincl everything the same policy has governed'our "livoi and rrarkoTiod all tho years ;>t Varrh Court. Air father takas the- wunc

view; I cannot get him to see the selfishness of it. * Why is my life to be sacrificed? Why should Polly's life be sacrificed ? Why should the women of the famiiy be called upon to bear these burdens, whilst the men skulk m the background? Oh, 1 know that I am taking a great deal upon myself ; I know that my words are bitter ; but all this has been pent up in my heart for years, • arid the time has come when I must speak. And why? Because, in spite of everything, in spite of the disgrace and shame', i. have found a good man and a gentleman who loves me, and who has asked mo to be his wife. And before Ido become a wife, tho man J love 'nust

hear every word of this, and thut is why I am asking you to come as far as 'Barris Court, late as it is. Mr Kt'lso and a friend are waiting for us in Ro«emead Avenue at the present moment. Now, come."' Herbert Barriscourt rose reluctantly

from his chair. Kteeped as ho was in selfishness and dissipation, those burning words, hot frohj Audrey's heart, seemed to have shattered the anno." of his selfishness and penetrated bin soul

"Very well,1' he said. "Give me a few minutes to change my coat ana make mvs«?lf rospectabW [f you want Polly " •

"Of course I want Polly/ Audrey said. "What should'we have doric without hf>r, or 'you either, for that matter 0" Herbert Barriscourt lounged heavily from the room, followed by his daughter. She also was desirous ol making mmn little change in her toi'et. ' The pinched, pale look had disappeared from her face; her eyes were britrht and sparkling. "This is altogether a remarkable , evening.'* Oluttju said. "[ know R'lipert Kelso quite well, Mi.ss Blair., and you nm<?t permit me, to say that 1 legard him as an exceedingly fortunate young man. Afc- the"'s::2rie lime, he is ti really good follow/ 'and lam quite sure deserves all the happiness that monies his way ' Without being the Ibast offensive, 1 may tell you that I am fairly well acquainted with the troubles of the house of Barriscourt, and this L jnr> certain of: if. tho men had possessed half the courage of the women there would have been "no scandal, and many years of "misery would have been saved."

"This is my grievance," Audrey said half tearfully."- ' 'Now take my aunt, the Princess here for example*! When the crash r>ame she faced the world and earned her own living. True, she had an aptitude for the .stage, and made a great name for herself, though only a haiadful of people knew her real position and story. *.-When the time came ror me to earn something, I followed her example. It was necessary thut I should earn money: but though T have.done fairly well, I loathe and detest the work. It ..will be a happy day for men when I; can-turn-my back upon tho theatre for ever."

;<lt won't be yerv long now," the Princess smiled. "I had" to. fling my net very*- wide and far, and it has taken many years to draw it in; but tho circle, is a narrow one new, and 1 can spq my fish wriggling j n the meshes." You are a dear girl, Audrey, and I uin going to be very fond of you ■ but you have certainly added to my difficulties. We should have had Magavitch and the rest of them gasping on the bank some little time ago bub for that little indiscretion of yours in connection with a certain diamond ornament."

Audrey colored to the* roots of her hair.

"So you know all about that too ' ■she stammered. "I vyondor if I-shall over hear the last of it? And do you think you can force that woman* to give the diamonds up again?" Tho Princess laughed as she loaned iorwfird and patted Audrey's hot chock affectionately. She had'stripped oir part of" her disguise, and stood there smiling, with-tho air of a woman who can see her way to victory complete and absolute.

|-Ask Speneoi- CJutton what he thinks, she said.

Juivc; absolutely nothing to bo niviwl of," Clutton s-iiil. "It is only n question of hours before those diamonds will bo in ir>y possession. *\Yhen you conic to lio-av the wholo story you will lvgiird it as iiliiiowt incredible '!>;) yon know tlmt vov.v little indisvretioa is an iniyortaa't factor j n briiKri'ntr noont thf liberation of yoil r lion 4 trom ih;> nn^n of terror ciinsod by Ma^iuitch and bis a?'sociato<° You r-suyt imagine such a tiling, oi; courso • but. I »ss,u-o you iJiat it is literally into. .>t.ll, one thing .-.t a tinio. And iion- shall we mol<o a >novo in th«

direction of Barris Court? I flatter myself that your father will be glad to see.tis." - "He should have met you long ago," Audrey.said. (To be Continued).