THE LOST NOTES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVI, Issue 11147, 21 August 1899, Page 3

THE LOST NOTES.

It is seven years ago since the Mowing adventure took place, hut even now I cannot jecall tho weary, heartrending trouble without a feeling of profound thankfulness to Providenco for shapin b the end to our benefit. Jly husband was then (as now) a collector f or the "Safety Insurance Company," and lie had gone down to Birmingham td collect the sums gathered by the agents in that town. He had already been away a week, and had telegraphed me that morning to the j effect he intended returning that same afternoon, but it was ten o'clock p.m. before I heard the welcome click of his latc'iJjey, Ho was very tired, having had a long .(fait at Crewe, where he changed trains, ■ and refused supper; so, as I had already i jartaken of mine, we at once retired. As j ; Tie crossed the hall he stopped and took down his overcoat from the peg, at tho same ■ time taking his umbrella in his other hand, ' and saying: "Rhoda, my dear, you may as well put this in the lumber-room; it is smashed entirely now," and he laughingly opened his ! old'"gamp," which was indeed a complete week. I took it from him when ho had 1 closed it, and while he went to kiss our ! little ones, I flung the umbrella, into a distant corner of a dark closot under the attic ' Stairs. _ i Next morning wo were up early, as Edward wished to bo down at the office before nine o'clock, and he said li„ had a lot of cash to deposit. He kissed us as usual, and set off, looking i bright, strong, and happy. All! how little ' I guessed what sorrow was in store for us all, nor how long it would be before that dear face looked radiant again. ■ About eleven o'clock I was busy making 1 a pudding for an early dinner, when an 1 unusually peremptory knock at the hall- ' door startled me. I hastened to open it, ] end was surprised to confront two strangers, \ my husband (looking pale and troubled), and J Jlr. Snell, the director of the company by which my husband was employed. They walked in, and Ml. Suell at once ; addressed me. "Mrs. Falkner, forgive this intrusion, hut ' your husband has lost his pockot-boolt—or, 1 at least, ho Fays containing notes to the 1 value of £700." i "Lost! Oh, Edward, how could it hap- ] pen?" I cried. , "I don't know," he said, mournfully, "1 , had it in my overcoat pocket last night after j I camn home, and, ac you know, I took my ] coat into our bedroom, and it was there (the coat) this morning, for nobody wont into 1 our room except ourselves." : "Are you sure you brought it home?" I ' asked. 1

"Sure! Ye*, of course, I'm sure!" lie said impatiently. "Then in that ease we must search tlio house," said one 01 the strangers. "Do, oh do," I said eagerly; "it must be somewhere about." " In the meantime I must ask you to stay in this room," he responded, and they went out of the room, leaving us alono with Mr. Snell. My poor husband seemed too crushed to speak; but I asked him had he tho numbers of the notes; could they not bo stopped ft the bank? "Xo," said lie; "only £200 worth; that makes it blacker against me. Oh, Rhoda, my poor wife! What can we do?" "Hush, love," I said encouragingly, "you must not- givo way, dear; it must be found, sooner or later." But though I strove thus to comfort him, my heart was very heavy, nor did subsequent inquiries tend to lighten it. The book could not be found in the house, and though all was done that could bo in tho way of advertising and offering rewards, all our efforts were unavailing. Edward was discharged from his situation, and many of the people of the town did not scruple to say bo had appropriated the £500 to his own use. However, the directors were not among these, and as they quite believed thern lost, prosecution was of no avail; still, they could not keep in their employ 4 man guilty of such culpable carelessness; so he was forced to apply for work elsewhere. The bouse wo lived in was our own, having been presented tc me as a wedding gift, so we decided to stay in it, but to sell the better part of the furniture. This we did, and Edward went to America, where he succeeded in obtaining a post as clerk in a 6ugar warehouse in New York. Time went on, and more than two years had passed since our trouble. I had let my unfurnished rooms to a nice, quiet family, and undertook to attend to them, which enabled me to keep the wolf from the door. My two little girls were now growing up, and would soon require to go to school, an expense which I was not as yet prepared to meet. For two years I had not seen my husband, and I felt the separation keenly, and I could not help the yearnings of my heart creeping into my letters. Edward noticed this, and in March, 1880, he wrote, telling me tc prepare and come out to him next month; he would forward mo the requisite funds. _ We were greatly excited, and began packing at once; I sold the house for £200, and paid the money to Mr. Snell, as part payment of the missing £700, and also sold the larger articles ot furniture. The latter sum helped me to provide a few necessaries for our wardrobes. Tlie money came from Edward, and all Was now prepared, when I remembered tho Jumber in the stairs closet, and told the charwoman to bring it out. She did so, my little girls helping hei. I had gone downstairs for something when I heard a cry of surprise, find Mrs. Egan, the charwoman, camo running downstairs, bearing in one hand a dusty old umbrella of my husband's, and in the other the long-lost pocket-book. She had found it in the umbrella, she explained. Instantly it was clear to my mind, as my husband closed the eld " uamp" that night, now three years ago, and flung his coat over his arm. The pocket-book must have slipped down into the umbrella! Oh, what thankfulness filled my heart! In less than an hour I had handed it to Mr. Snell, and wired my husband the joyful news. Instead of us going to America, mv bushand came back to England, and on May 24, 188—, resumed his duties as head collector of the " Safety Insurance Company," and I am proud to say be still holds that post. Wo kept the " gamp" as a curiosity, and Ml hand it down to posterity as the instrument •which nearly gave my husband penal servitude.