REGINALD'S FORTUNE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXVIII, Issue 8538, 11 April 1891, Page 3 (Supplement)

REGINALD'S FORTUNE.

JIY MRS. HARRIET LEWIS, Author of " Lady Roslyn'n Pensioner," " The House of Secrets," " The False Heir," " The Heiress of ligrumont," etc. CHAPTER XVIII. MORS PLOTTING. " Had I miscarried, I had been a villain ; for men judge actions always by events ; But when we manage by a just foresight, Succeeds is prudence, and possession right." HIGGINS./ It was barely , eleven o'clock, bub Mr. Westcourt permitted the back drawingroom fire to die out, and had then, with his wife, sought their private chamber, it being by far the pleasan test room in the house, and the one they preferred for private consultations, there being no danger, when within its precincts, of being overheard by the servants. Mr. Westcourt drew toward the fire a couple of chairs—the same the maids had just vacated—and depositing himself in one of them, invited his wife to occupy the other. But Mrs. Westcourt seemed in no hurry to take possession of it, being absorbed in the removal of her costly silken robe, which was rather too tight for comfort. 1 ' here is my dressing-gown 'she asked, impatiently, looking in vain for it. " Those careless girls have forgotten to leave it out for me, and I am obliged to wait upon myself. Ido wish, Reid, you would allow mo to keep a maid." "There's time enough, Isabella," replied her husband. " I expect to bo able soon to gratify all your wants and coprices. Hasten, so that you can sit down by me. I have much to say to you that I didn't wish to say downstairs. I have an idea that the servants have taken to eavesdropping since Reginald went away, under the impression, perhaps, that his absence is mysterious so soon alter the fire. They may suspect something." "Oh, doar, no," responded Mrs. Westcourt, proceeding toward the closet. "Servants almost always listen. We have been too cautious to give them food for suspicion !" As she spoke she opened the closet door. Fcnnes, on hearing her approach, had hastily concealed himself behind a mass of soft drapery, and thore cowered, holding his breath. To his terror and dismay, Mrs. Westcourt examined the pile of clothing that screened him, but she did not or become aware of his presence. "Ah, hero it is !" she exclaimed, removing a dressing-gown of rose-hued merino from a hook. " .Now lam ready to balk with you, Reid !" She returned to the outer chamber, closing the closet door, and Fennes breathed more freely, although wondering with apprehension how ho should make his escape. To his relief, the door was not locked upon him by Mrs. Westcourt, and he began to hopo that he might steal from the house a few hours later, when the merchant and his wife should be asleep. His legs trembled beneath his weight, and ho seated himself upon the pile of blankets, keeping himself covered with the drapery around nim, and devoted his attention to the conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Westcourt. The merchant's wife attired herself in her rose-coloured dressing-gown, lob down her long black hair over her shoulders,- put on a pair of slippers, and then took her seat beside her husband, inviting him to proceed with his communication. " I hopo it isn't about that Fennes," she added. "We have done nothing but talk about him since ho rushed from the house an hour or more ago. You say that there is nothing to bo apprehended from him." " Of course not, so long as 1 hold the evidence of his forgery, respondod the merchant. " I wish I had asked him what firm is going to employ him. It might be well to givo his employers a hint, you know." The listener ground his teeth at this evidence of the merchant's treachery. " But 1 do not care to talk of Fennes," resumed Mr. Westcourt. "As you say, Isabella, we have exhausted that subject. I wish to say something to you about Reginald." "Well?"

" lb is not well. Mr. Aylmar is making the lad strong and healthy, and my hopes of inheriting Reginald's fortune are likely to be frustrated if lie remain under Mr. Aylmar's charge If the boy should livo to attain his majority, he would make a will leaving everything to Willa Heath or Mr. • Aylmar, or anybody out of our family. You may bo suro we wouldn't get a penny of it." " Then what is to be done, Reid?" The merchant seemed to hesitate, and then said : " You know my former designs about the boy, Isabolla; you heard what Miss Hayward said about the fire ; and you listened to my conversation with Fennes to-night. You will therefore not be surprised when I say that Reginald ought to die before attaining his majority." " But how can his death be accomplished ?" asked Mrs. Westcourt. " I hardly know yet. I have had a thousand wild ideas. I have thought of withdrawing the lad from Aylmar Manor and putting him again to business; but that wouldn't do at all." '• Certainly nob. Mr. Aylmar would cause you great trouble should you attempt it." " And then," said the merchant, " I have thought of sending to Reginald, as a present, a vicious horse, which would throw him at the first opportunity; bub that is clearly foolish. Mr. Aylmar wouldn't allow the lad to ride any horse until the animal had been broken by a groom. Besides, Reginald told Oriana, the day he came here with Mr. Aylmar, that he had a beautiful pony at the manor, and of course he wouldn't look at my gift." " But can't you think of some other plan less dangerous, Reid ?" " Why, to-night another idea flashed upon me," was the response. "It was when Fennes was here. You oould see, I suppose, that Fennes has a weak will, is yielding and easily guided?.' And then, too, he stands in mortal fear on account of his forgery business, as well as the latter affair. Now, I presume I could force him to do anything I like, even to destroying Reginald.". The listener shuddered, and his teeth chattered. "But how could Fennes do anything, Reid !" " Reginald told Oriana that there was a pretty little lake upon the manor estate. Now, Fennes could disguise himself, and in some way decoy the lad upon the water for a sail. What so easy then as to upset ?" " You seem to have thought a good deal on the subject." "Only this evening, Isabolla. I have sufficient hold upon Fennes to make him do what I wish, and as he is so deep in my confidence, 1 prefer employing him to anyone else. I think I will see him again soon and sound him on the subject." The couple sank into a thoughtful silence, and the miserable Fennes inwardly breathed a vow that he would die by his own hand before he would ever again lend himself to the evil will of the merohant. At length Mr. Westcourt broke the silence by saying : " And, after all, Isabella, there may be no need of putting Reginald" out of the way. I think I will allow events to take their course. Should he arrive at manhood and demand his fortune at my hands, I can arrange matters so that he can get very little, if anything." "I don't understand you." - "It isn't necessary you should. lb is enough for you to know.that if I ohoose to burn that bundle of papers left by my brother, Reginald would find it impossible to prove that hie father's will was more than empty words. There have been many cases known where people have made wills bequeathing large suiub to all their friends, when they were absolutely penniless and had nothing to bequeath. My brother's will might pass for one of those if the papers were destroyed." "lam sure, Reid, that burning : the papers is a much bettor way than destroying the poor lad !" exclaimed Mrs. i West-

court. "Leave him where he is, and do not attempt to injure him. How fortunate that his wealth is not in landed property, or entailed, and that you were constituted sole guardian of Reginald's person and property. You can give him something when he comes of age, as if from your own fortune, and as Mr. Aylmar's heir, he will be rich enough. Why nob destroy the papers to-night?" "; "ISo, not to-night," responded the merchant. "I want to look over them first, as there may be a few which I would like to retain. They show in what way my brother invested his fortune, and although I have changed the investments, they contain full proofs of the amount of the fortune itself. Were those papers destroyed, Reginald is completely at my mercy." " I wonder you never thought of the plan before," said Mrs. Westcourt. " Somehow wit must always be bought. If you had thought of destroying the papers you need never have excited suspicion by putting the lad into your counting-house." "Oh, that will make no difference," returned her husband. "It will rather go to confirm the statements I have made and shall make." " Your explanations have been rather contradictory so far, Roid, as near as I can learn. Do make up your mind to a plausible story, and keep to it. Ido feel so relieved," Mrs. Westcourt added, " to think that no personal harm need come to Reginald. I have sometimes felt that the justice we meted out to him might yet be meted out to Oriana." " Nonsense." "It may bo nonsense, but I couldn't help it, Reid. And the boy was so good, so frank, so truthful, so generous. He is in every way the image of his open-hearted father. Your brother had but one fault, Reidhe was too trusting. Ho never took ordinary precautions about his property, bub left it in such a way that you could seize it all if you liked." "And for that am I obliged to him," replied the merchant with a short laugh. " Ho left business to his younger brother, you know." ■ "He had perfect confidence in you," said Mrs. Westcourt, reflectively. "He had great reliance upon your integrity and business qualities. The merchant moved uneasily in his chair, feeling annoyed at the tenor of his wife's words. He could nob help remembering how the gay, frank brother —the supporter of the family dignities, the courted gentleman—had often consulted him in regard to the investment of money, and similar business affairs, and had always shown a profound respect for him, and a reliance upon his advice. The brothers not having been brought up together, their educations so totally unlike, and their subsequent careers having lain so far apart, their fraternal affection was, of course, less strong than it would otherwise have been. Reid Westcourt had no memory of a happy childhood with his elder brother to deter him now from injuring his brother's son. He had all his life cherised a secret jealousy of his more favoured brother—a jealousy which, at times, had deepened almost into positive hatred. As he remembered these things, he said, rather harshly : " You seem to be in a relenting mood to-night, Isabella. Perhaps you would like me to take care of Reginald's fortune, and give it all up to him by-and-bye '!" "Oh, no," responded Mrs. Westcourt, hastily. "Not for anything, Reid. Wo want it for ourselves and Oriana. Besides, Reginald will be cared for by Mr. Aylmar."

"To-morrow evening I will look over my papers, and destroy those that can in any way interfere with my entering upon the enjoyment of my nephew's property. I wonder i didn't think of this idea when wo first talked on this subject weeks since. I then had room, as it seems, solely for the idea that I could take possession only at the lad's death. The subject was new to me then, bub I have given much thought to it since, as you see." Mrs. YVesteourt assented, expressing her wonder that it should have taken her astute husband so many weeks to arrive at such a conclusion—that of destroying a few tell-tale papers. She declared that if she had had his knowledge of business she should have thought of that ide,a directly, and not rambled about on plans of destroying the life of Reginald. The couple conversed at great length on the subject, and formed brilliant plana for themselves and Oriana ; and the merchant's wife announced her intention of bestowing a suitable annuity upon her fatherthe half-pay captain once or twice alluded to. Felines listened to their schemes with considerable agitation, managing not to betray his presence, and he thought: "What a complete hypocrite Mr, Westcourt is. lam glad 1 have been ablo to see through him at least. What would the world say to the conversation I have just overheard? Poor Reginald ! It seems they have concluded to let him live. Oh, if I could only get those important papers that he intends to burn !"

The idea occupied his mind to the exclusion of every other during the period in which he concluded the merchant and his wifo were disrobing, and the more he thought upon the subject, the more intensely he longed to gain possession of the documents proving Reginald's wealth, and the paper so important to his own safety. He heard the couple move about the chamber, heard a sound of wearing apparel flung upon a chair, noticed that the light that penetrated to his concealment diminished, as if thegas had been partially turned off, and finally heard Mr. Westcourt kick off his slippers and throw aside his garments. As the last sound reached his hearing, he heard a jingle of keys. "Ah !" ho thought, " he keeps his keys in his pockob. I heard them as they hit the back of the chair. Oh, if I only dared to take them out, open the desk, and get the papers I want. Oh, If I only dared ! I am sure my doing so could not be accounted wrong. Even Mary must approve of such a design, for I should save Reginald's property and secure the evidence of my forgery, so that Mr. Westcourf could never ruin my prospects or force me to further evil. lam nob quite so weak as he thinks. I must get those papers. I am sure Mary would approve of it." Although Formes was weak in resolution, he was by no means a coward, and the more ho thought about the papers that were so important to Reginald and himself, the more his courage arose, until it finally culminated in a resolution to obtain them or die in the attempt. " Of course I shall run a great risk," he mused, while his face was bedewed with a cold perspiration. " Mr. Westcourt might even shoot me, should ho detect me at his desk, and my name would then be covered with additional infamy. Mary would never know the truth of this last affair either, and Mr. Fosdick would think worse of me than ever. Mr. Westcourt would only be too glad to shoot mo. if ho rcccognised me, and so rid himself of a troublesome accomplice and witness to his crimes. But I must make the attempt, nob on my accountalono, but for Reginald, whom I so nearly killed the night of the fire, I owe him reparation." At this point of his musings he grew collected and self-possessed, determined not to betray himself by a want of coolness and presence of mind. Withdrawing himself from behind the clothing, that had afforded him a screen, ho eagerly listened to learn if the couple were still" awake, but all was silent in the outer chamber.

He then noiselessly removed his shoes, depositing one in each ample pocket of his great-coat, and, after a pause that seemed an hour, he crept close to the closet door and peered through the keyhole. As he had thought, the gas had been diminished so that one globe only transmitted light, and that, although strong enough to see every object within the range of his vision, appeared dim. , Ashe watched and listened at the keyhole, ho soon heard the sound of regular, heavy breathing, and knew that the merchant slept. .' A little later he heard the regular, less sonorous breathing of Mrs. Westcourt, and then his self-confidence increased, and he began to think of the task before him. The little ormolu clock on the mantelpiece tinkled softly at half-pasb twelve, at a quarter bo one, and again rang out a ailvery little chime at ope, and still Fennes did not stir.. < , •' ! - ' In his fear and impatience he thought the sound of the clock would awaken the merchant or his wife, forgetting the probability that they were too well used to its chimes to be aroused by them. Besides, the sound that seemed so fearfully loud to him was

almost as faint and delicate as the fall of raindrops upon metal. ' ; He waited until the musical chimes had told the second hour, when the Westcourts were in their first and soundest slumbers, and therefore not likely to awaken easily, and then, with a wildly-beating heart, he softly turned the latch of the. closet door. It yielded, and he stole out into the outer chamber.

What a sensation pervaded him at that moment! He was tempted to flee from the room and the house, thinking only of his own safety, and leave the documents to the will of their possessor. He was also tempted to return to the closet and conceal himself there until morning, in the hope of a better chance of escape at that time. But these thoughts were evanescent, and when he had dismissed them he felt clearer in intellect and stronger in will than before. Cautiously and noiselessly crossing the floor, he paused at the side of the bed, the curtains of which were closely drawn in order that the sleepers might not be disturbed by the sound of the wintry wind without. He carefully drew the drapery a little apart, and saw that the merchant and his wife were both sleeping profoundly. Then he glided to the chair upon which the owner of the dwelling had deposited his garments, and began a search for the keys, whose jingle he had heard. Just as he began to fear that they had been concealed under the merchant's pillow, he discovered them and took them in his keeping. And then he stole tpward the massive desk, in which the documents were supposed to be kept. Grasping the keys firmly, that they might not betray his presence by jingling together, he carefully tried one by one in the lock of the desk, not without much trepidation and fear of discovery. The right key was finally discovered, the desk was opened, and a quantity of documents, tied into bundles, and carefully labelled, met his vision. With a careful hand he took them up, a bundle at a time, examining them, but none of them bore any reference to the documents he sought. Just as he had completed his investigations of the visible packets, the little clock struck the quarter-past two, and Fennes started, staring apprehensively toward the bed. The next moment he reassured himself, and devoted his attention to some inner drawers, which he unlocked by means of small bunch of keys which ho found in the desk. Still the desired documents were not found, and Fennes began to think they must be kept in another receptacle, when the idea struck him that there might be a secret drawer somewhere about the desk. He remembered that his father had once possessed a desk constructed with several secret drawers, ynd the interior arrangement of Mr. Westcourt's desk was very like that owned by his father. Acting upon this suggestion, he thrust his fingers into the little drawers, in the hope of touching a secret spring. His knowledge of his father's desk served him, for he soon succeeded in loosening the back of one of the drawers, and discovered that quite a hollow place existed behind it. Trembling with joy, he inserted his fingers into this private receptacle, and drew out several packets of papers, all tied and labelled. They all bore the name of Reginald Westcourt. Hurriedly thrusting them all into his pockets and looking in the direction of the bed, Fennes put hi 3 hand back into the secret box, drawing out this time—to his infinite relief—a single paper, on the back of which was written his own name. Putting that also in his breast-pocket, he noiselessly closed the desk, without locking it, restored the keys to their former restingplace, and stole toward the door opening into the corridor. It was locked, bub the key was in the lock, and he turned the bolt, not without a noise that he feared would arouse the sleepers. But he failed to awaken them, and with a heart full of joy and gratitude Fennes stole out into the corridor, closed the door behind him, and glided down the stairs. His experience after burning the business building of Mr. Westcourt had taught him caution, and before attempting to gain egress from the dwelling, ho sat down in the lower corridor, put on his shoes, buttoned up his great-coat over the suspicious papers, and then stole to the door, peering through the narrow spaces of glass on each side to see if thore were any policemen in the vicinity or any passersby who would bo likely to molest him. Bub the hour was too late and the night too cold for pedestrians to be about, even the houseless poor having crept under covering long since, and there were no policemen within the range of his . anxious vision.

The door was locked ; the key, however, was in the lock, and attached to the heavy chain. There was also a heavy bar protecting the door, bub this he easily removed. It was more difficult to unlock the door than to open it, on account of the inevitable rattling of the chain, bub Fennes accomplished the task with as little noise a possible, boldly opened it, stepped outside, closed it behind him, and then, as he descended the steps, gave a wildly anxious glance up and down the street. Nob a human being besides himself was in sight. Restraining his eagerness, he walked quietly away, turning the nearest corner, then quickening his pace, he hastened on his course toward Mary's home. He walked the entire distance, which seemed very short to him with his joyful heart, and reached the cottage long before daybreak. As he opened the little gate he noticed a light in Mary's room, and he had hardly given a low rap upon the door when his botrothed herself admitted him. " Oh, VYixon, I thought something dreadful had happened to you," she said, embracing him. " You have been gone so long !" _ J " But I have gob the paper !" exclaimed her lover, in joyous excitement, following her to her bright little sitting-room. "Here it is, Mary, and here are the papers proving Reginald Westcourt's wealth. I give them into your keeping until they are wanted." Mary took the evidence of her lover's forgery, looked it over, and then, with a burst of happy tears, threw it upon the fire and watched it burn to ashes. "So perish all that is wrong or dark in your past!" she murmured. "Let your future be good and noble !" CHAPTER XIX. THE FLIGHT OF SEVEN YEARS. " It is success that colour* all in life ; Success makes fools admired, makes villains honest All the proud virtue of this vaunting world Fawns on success and power, howe'eracquired." Thomas Agamemnon. " Who feels no ills Should, therefore, fear them, and -when fortune smiles, Be doubly courteous, lest destruction come Bemorseless on him, and he fall unpitied."

Seven years had passed since the occurrences detailed in the preceding chapters, and those seven years had wrought great changes in the circumstances of the several characters of our story. Mr. Reid Westcourt had retired from business, partly' in consequence of the urgent solicitations of his wife and daughter, and partly because he had greatly prospered in all his various speculations, and was now accounted a man of wealth. He had been succeeded in his mercantile house by his late manager, the good Mr. Hutohley, whom a timely legacy from a maiden aunt had saved from a life of privation and drudgery, besides enabling him to give his student-son a choice of professions. It was the leading principle of Mr. Hutchley'e business to conduct affairs as the " head" had done before him, and he would have been shocked at the slightest deviation from the precedents established by his late employer. Of course, on leaving his old business life behind him, Mr. Reid Westcourt had yielded to his wife's long desire for an establishment in the country, and had bought an estate in one of the Midland counties, upon which he had bestowed the title of Westcourb Lodge.

In this new' house Mrs. Westoourb was fast forgetting that her husband had ever had any connection with trade, and regarded him only ■in his new character of landed proprietor. The Westcourt name and the merchant's wealth, had gained for them an entrance into very good society, although the more exclusive county , families had :; nob yet called upon or recognised them.

There was nothing either grand or 1 ancient about Westcourb Lodge, bub it pleased its new owners far more than an antiquated mansion would have done. There were no patches of hoary light varied with shade on its walls, no turrets, or mullioned windows, carrying the thoughts back to past centuries. It was simply an ambitious-looking villa, built of red brick, with wide windows and doors, and "all the . modern improvements," as had been duly set forth in the very attractive advertisement that had first called the attention of Mr. and Mrs. Westcourb to the place. It was square in form, constructed on mathematical principles, and had a very new look about it. In front of the lodge was a very prettily laid-oub flower garden, intersected by winding gravel walks; and at a little distance in tho rear of the dwelling was a space devoted to vegetables, etc. The estate consisted of a small plantation of firs and larches, fields, etc., and there were paddocks for the horsesas the merchant's wife now kept her carriage. - The seven years that had elapsed since the removal of Reginald from her father's roof had been passed by Miss Oriaua Westcourt in a fashionable boarding-school, where her acquaintances had been quite select enough to please even her ambitious mother. The last year of the seven was spent by the young lady as a parlour boarder in a "finishing school," where she learned the airs and graces that her parents fondly hoped were to make her the future belle of the county. Her education having at length been pronounced "finished," Miss Oriana was summoned to Westcourt Lodge to take her rightful position in society and in her father's house. The morning after her return home her parents were seated in Mrs. Westcourt's private parlour, engaged in discussing about their daughter and her prospects. The lapse of years had nob greatly changed the personal appearance of the silk merchant. He was more portly in form, perhaps, and decidedly more pompous in manner. His countenance had more than ever a sanctimonious expression, and he had acquired an air of dignity that did not fail to impress his new neighbours and acquaintances. He was always scrupulously well attired in garments of the finest material and most fashionable make, and was fond of walking about his grounds with his hands folded behind him and his head thrown back, as if no care or trouble ever dared disturb his prosperous life. And yet there were times when keen eyes might have noticed an uneasy, apprehensive look upon -his face—a look that showed that a secret dread inhabited his soul ! Mrs. Westcourt had changed still less than the merchant. A few white threads were mingled with her black locks, and her forehead had gained a few lines that time or trouble might speedily change into positive wrinkles ; but her form had gained in uprightness, as well as in proportions. Her manner had grown overbearing and supercilious, which she deemed consistent with her changed estate; bub in other" respects she remained unaltered. "You must acknowledge, Reid," she said, settling her heavy bracelets upon her lace-shaded' wrists, "that Oriana has realised all our dreams and the promise of her childhood. She -is really very beautiful 1" "I share your opinion, Isabella," replied the merchant. " She is much handsomer than lever expected her to be. She has also greatly increased in respect for me, which I consider a matter of even greater importance than her beauty. You know very well—for I've told you often enough— that she always failed in filial duty when at home for the holidays in town !" "Bub there was very good reason for her looking down upon you then, Reid," said Mrs. Westcourt. " The dear girl associated with the daughters of noblemen and gentlemen, and it wasn't very pleasing for her to own a tradesman for her lather. lam sure I don't blame the poor child," added the weak-minded mother. " I despise trade as much as she does. You will never again have occassion to find fault with her want of respect toward you I" Mr. Westcourb made no attempt to defend ' the process by which he had gained his wealth and present position. He said nothing about the dignity of trade, nor bow vastly it contributed to the prosperity of nations, and what a grand foundation ib made for the superstructure of society. In truth, he was ashamed that he had ever been a tradesman, and was as anxious to forget the fact as were his wife and daughter. " Very well, Isabella," he returned. ! "Our daughter having returned to us beautiful and accomplished, it is right and proper that you should be thinking of her ! future husband. We are in a most excellent neighbourhood— " "And there are several eligible young gentlemen with whom I am already acquainted," interrupted Mrs. Westcourt. i " Of course, Oriana must marry a wealthy gentleman— possible, a nobleman. She will have a very tempting fortune of her own, and can marry whom she likes !" Air. Westcourt's brow clouded, and he said, uneasily: "It is now the middle of April, Isabella, and I wish—that is, I have formed ideas different from yours in regard to Oriana's future !"

"indeed exclaimed the merchant's wife, with a show of surprise. " What can the month or season have to do with your plans ?" " Why, in June Reginald will attain his majority !" This announcement made Mrs. Westcourt appear as uneasy as her husband, but after a few minutes' thought she said : " But, Reid, when your nephew comes of age you have simply to tell him that there is nothing to show that your brother died possessed of the amount bequeathed to his son. The papers are all gone, you know." "This is what troubles me," interrupted the merchant. " Where could they have disappeared so mysteriously seven years aeo ? Some one must have abstracted them from my desk, but who could have fathomed the mystery of the secret drawer ? The abstraction of those papers have troubled me all these years. They were taken by no ordinary thief, for my other papers and some bank-notes remained untouched. The only thing removed with them was the forged check of Fennes. "And I have also told you that that clerk must have been the thief," Mrs. Westcourb interposed, in her turn. " It has always been my opinion that he slipped upstairs on the evening of his last visit to us, and opened the desk with a false key. He might have discovered the secret drawer by accident, and taken Reginald's papers as well as his own in a hurry. In that case he burned them long ago to avoid being found out." " The affair is a very unpleasant one," replied the proprietor of Westcourb Lodge. " If Fdnnes took the papers and gave them to Reginald or to Mr. Aylmar, we must expect decided trouble in June, as I shall be compelled to give my nephew every penny of his fortune." "And that would beggar us and our dear Oriana," said Mrs. YVestcourb, becoming very pale. " At any rate we should be obliged bo give up the lodge and go back into business again. Oh, Reid, why not seek out Fennes and force a confession from him, if he really took the papers?" " You forget that I have tried to do so," was the gloomy response, "and all the satisfaction I obtained was Fennes* repeated assurance, ' I have got the papers you seek.' I could not arrest him on suspicion, of course, without injuring myself, and bringing out things I wanted concealed. Besides, when I missed that forged cheque, I * lost my chief hold upon Fennes. It's very singular that his trial has been warded off so long." "Perhaps Fennes took them and gave them to Reginald or Mr. Aylmar," suggested the wife. "Couldn't we find out if they be in Reginald's possession ?" " Perhaps so," was the reply. " I ought to have kept my nephew with us instead • leaving him at Aylmar Manorbut, then, I couldn't. We have seen the lad but once since Mr. Aylmar book charge of him, and have bub the faintest idea ot his oharacter and his personal appearance. However, I am still his guardian, and intend to recall him without delay. ; He shall spend the remainder of his minority at the lodge." " Bub what do you hope to accomplish by bringing him home ?" Why, I should find out whether or nob he had those missing papers, or any knowledge of them or ,■■ their ' contents. Sec ondly, during his stay here Oriana must put forth every effort to enlist his affections, so that in the case of the worst she may become his- wife. I am sure, Isabella, that

—^——————— our daughter could not do better than marry Reginald Westcourfc." "It would be a good match, Reid, but you forget .Reginald's aversion to the dear girl," , ; "No, I do not. That aversion was a mere childish sentiment, long since forgotten, of course. Oriana is beautiful and accomplished, and Reginald is not quite twenty-one, ardent and impressionable. If we bring the two together, they will very naturally fall in love with each other." "I see. Suppose Reginald falls in love with Oriana, but knows nothing of .the missing papers. Shall we then allow them to marry ?" , "That will be an after consideration, Isabella. We must keep his fortune in the family, and all. our energies must be bent to that end." Mrs. Westcourb assented, and after a pause, remarked : " I used to think that Reginald would marry Willa, if both lived to maturity. I suppose, however, their childish love died out long ago, and they have quite forgotten each other. I almost wish, Keid, that we had kept up Oriana's intimacy with Willa. The Tracys of Lincolnshire are such an excellent family, and it would be so nice to be on visiting terms at Longholme." "It's too late to think of that, now," replied the merchant. " Willa has long siuce forgotten us — nob having been here since her aunt took her away. It is better so, as I would not care to have Reginald meet the child again." [To be continued.] ,